Chapter 50
Icreep through the dim servants’ corridors—empty, save for the rogue mouse that scurries across the opening. The guards must have already done a sweep of this part of the castle, sending the workers to their rooms.
Firelight glows from lanterns, casting long shadows across my body. I trail my fingertips over the wall, tracing the path the best I can.
I’m no stranger to sneaking through servants’ corridors, having done it for years in Sarenia. But I haven’t had the time to memorize the layout of this castle or which paths connect to which rooms.
Pausing my steps, I press my eyes shut and calm my breathing. Based on what I know about the layout, her door should be along this hallway. But if I choose wrong, everything will be ruined.
I blink my eyes open and count the doors until I come to the fourth one. The room is nestled into the corner of this wing—the perfect place for me to hide for the night.
The wind whistles under the gap in the door, and I wrap my hand around the knob. I twist it, and a curse passes between my lips. After everything she’s been through, I should know better than to think she’d leave it unlocked.
I comb my fingers through my hair, then dip them into my pockets—searching for a pin to pick the lock. No luck.
Blowing a breath through my nose, I lift my fist and tap my knuckles against the wood. The sound echoes through the hallway, and I sidestep a few feet away, should this door belong to someone who would have me arrested.
My pulse rings in my ears as the seconds tick by.
The latch clicks, and the door inches open.
“Who’s there?” she calls out.
I sigh, and the muscles spanning my shoulders relax. Pushing away from the wall, I step into the light and approach her door. “It’s just me, Gem.”
Gemma’s eyes shoot wide, and she swings the door open, snatching my wrist. She yanks me in and shuts the door, securing the lock. “What are you doing here? Don’t you know what would happen if you got caught?”
“That’s the least of my concerns right now.” I cup her hands and hold her gaze. “Have you heard anything about my crew?”
“There’s speculation, of course. Some believe they died in the blaze, and others believe the Fire Court took them as their own captives.”
“But nothing about them being captured on a ship north of Ignata?”
Her brow furrows. “The advisors talk constantly, and that’s not something I’ve heard.”
A weight lifts off my chest, and I make my way to the maple wood chest directly in front of the unlit hearth. Sinking onto it, I rest my elbows on my thighs. “I know the last time I asked for a favor, it ended with your sister being killed.”
She shifts on her feet but hedges closer—taking a seat at the armchair across from me. Her hair hangs in a glossy sheet around her face, brushing the arch of her shoulders. “Whatever it is, I’ll do anything I can.”
I give her a small smile. “You’d make a great member of The Twelfth Night.”
Waving a hand, she brushes me off. “What do you need?”
“Most importantly, somewhere to sleep for the night.” I glance around the space. It’s similar to Kressa’s quarters—with a main living area, then two bedrooms branching off either side. “Is the ceremony still taking place tomorrow?”
Gemma nods. “Callum caught on that you escaped, so he requested the marriage take place as soon as possible. Sometime in the morning.”
“Kressa can’t know I’m here.” I gnaw on my lip. “I can’t let her get married.”
She leans closer and clasps my hands. “And how will you manage to do that?”
“If you can glamour me so I can get close to the wedding, I can take care of the rest myself.”
Leaning back, she sighs and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “You know I would. But with everything going on, and all the spy work Golan is having me do with Callum, my power is stretched thin.”
My chest pinches. “Do you at least know where the ceremony will be held? Is it possible for me to sneak close enough?”
“I’m not entirely sure about what Callum is requesting, but members of the Earth Court royal family have all been wed outside.
On the earth they claim as home.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “So, if I had to guess, it would either be in the courtyard in front of the castle, or just outside Ignata somewhere in the forest. But I can ring for a maid and ask.”
“Thank you,” I breathe, letting my body relax for the first time in days.
She stands from the armchair and crosses to a small stovetop pressed into the far wall—a makeshift kitchen.
Lifting the kettle, she fills it with water and places it over the burner.
“The guards have already swept my quarters, so you’ll be safe here.
” She tilts her chin toward the door over my shoulder.
“There are spare clothes in there. Why don’t you go get changed, and I’ll bring you some tea. You look like you need it.”
Swallowing, I nod and press myself up. I catch my reflection in a mirror on the opposite wall. My hair is a mess around my head—blood and soot coating my shirt. Sucking in my cheek, I turn away and stride to the bedroom door, pulling it open.
A low whistle comes from the kettle, and I glance over my shoulder at Gemma. “I owe you.”
She gives me a warm smile. “Yes, you do.”
I step into the room and drag my fingertips over the vanity beside the door. They come back coated in a layer of dust. Cobwebs cling to the corners of the room, and stale air meets my nose.
Moonlight filters through a pair of moth-eaten curtains, and I pull open the armoire, thumbing through the hangers strung along the top rod. My heart stumbles, and my fingers pause.
They’re all Marianne’s clothes.
Her fiery hair and sparkling eyes fill my mind, and a tear rolls down my cheek. The last time I saw her, she was crumpled on the dock—her sister screaming over her lifeless body.
I run my fingers over the neckline of one of her dresses.
The door clicks open behind me.
“I can’t wear these,” I whisper—my voice catching as I drop my hand. “Not after I promised you she’d be safe.”
Gemma comes up beside me and sets the steaming mug on a side table.
She lifts her hand and rubs the fabric between her fingers.
“There are sacrifices we have to make in war.” Clearing her throat, she pulls a plain tunic from the end of the armoire.
“Here, this was hers, but she never wore it. And anyway, if she was here, she’d want you to wear it if it meant helping Kressa. ”
Handing me the tunic, she pulls open a drawer at the bottom and digs out a pair of leggings.
I take the clothing and hold it close to my chest. “Gemma?”
She pauses. “Yes?”
“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”
The words tumble out before I can stop them. There are so many times—so many instances of my recklessness hurting others. Even when I believe in my core that what I’m doing is right, I’ve been proven wrong.
She gnaws on her lip, then swings her gaze to me. “I don’t think this is a question of whether or not you’re doing the right thing.” Pressing the doors shut, she lifts the mug and hands it to me. “If you love Kressa the way I believe you do, this is the only thing you can do.”
I blow out a breath and nod. “I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”
The mug is warm against my palm, but it’s nothing compared to the fiery blaze churning beneath my skin.
The fire has been at bay thanks to the recent proximity to Kressa, but it won’t last long.
I have no idea what will happen come tomorrow, but I’ll twist my power and my anger—mold it to my will. It won’t harm those I love.
“I spoke to a maid while you were in here,” Gemma says. “She said the ceremony will take place at sunrise near the harbor, since much of the castle and surrounding area is still being rebuilt from the wyvern attack.”
I flex my hands around the handle. Even with the harbor, the saltwater will be too far away for me to wield.
Fire it is.
“Thank you,” I say, lifting the mug to my lips.
“Tomorrow will be an early morning.” She strides toward the bedroom door. “I’ll let you get some rest.”
She offers me a final glance then pulls the door shut behind her, leaving me alone in the silent room with the ghost of her sister. I set the tea on the nightstand and undress, putting on the borrowed clothes.
If anything, maybe they’ll offer me Marianne’s bravery.