Chapter Twenty-Seven
He takes me back to the palace on the griffin, talking to her and tugging on her feathers like he’s guiding a horse.
Which works, shockingly enough. We don’t speak for the ride, but I know he can feel my awe in spite of everything as we pass through the darkening sky. As we glide over Faros, sparkling with candlelight. As we take in another view no one has ever seen before.
I want to be with you, he said. The words echo in my mind.
My desire for him has not waned. If anything, I feel it more than ever knowing what happened out there with my father.
The way he felt when confronted with the reality of killing him.
The knowledge of what he needed to do, what was best for his people, and his inability to do it.
It’s exactly how I feel when I look at him.
I’m also grateful to him for trying to show Father mercy even if he wouldn’t accept it.
He gave Father a choice, and Father chose to fight rather than to return to us.
To return to me. I don’t care about whatever nonsense code of honor was broken.
If showing mercy is dishonorable, then what’s the good in honor?
But Ronan had nothing left when he stood on that cliff. He had no siblings; both of his parents were gone. I have people I still care about despite everything terrible they’ve done, people who will die if I give them up. If I can’t find a way to stop them.
I want to be with Ronan, too. I know it, as much as it terrifies me to admit it. But I need to take some time to think, to find a way to have both him and my family.
“Will you keep her?” I ask him as we dismount on his balcony.
“If she’ll let me,” he says, and I wonder if he’s talking about the griffin.
In the morning, Adria wakes me early to hear what happened during the hunt. Apparently, our change of plans regarding the griffin caused quite a controversy.
“I thought Cornelius was going to shoot one of us instead,” she says. “You know him. Big guy from House Gallus.”
I shake my head.
“With the weird little beard?”
“Oh, sure,” I say. I know exactly who she’s talking about now. “What did he do?”
“He tried to snap his bow in half, but it didn’t break. So he threw it down and stomped on it. You should have seen it. A full-blown tantrum.”
Another enemy made. Ronan has a talent for it, that’s for sure.
Speaking of enemies, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask her. “Hey, have you seen Hermes around? I’ve had this headache that keeps coming back. I wanted to ask him about an elixir.”
The lie comes to my lips so easily, I wonder if there is something to my shadow-born nature. Maybe the reality is that I’m quite good at lying, even lying not by omission, when I feel justified in doing so.
“No, I haven’t seen him in a while, actually. He’s barely been around since we got here.”
I take it from her casual tone that she doesn’t know what Hermes is involved with. Or she’s lying to me about it, which is always a possibility around here.
I don’t tell her about our theory that he’s somehow involved with the missing shadow-born. She’s never brought it up again after that time in the arena, and I no longer trust her enough to risk exposing something to her that could help her, if she is involved in some way.
I part with her on the way to breakfast, taking a detour to the bathing caves. By the time I arrive in the dining hall after my bath, she’s already on her way out with Titus of all people following behind her.
I should have warned him about her. Gods, she’ll eat him alive.
I meet Ronan’s eyes the moment I walk in the room, and it sends my pulse racing again. He has such an effect on me even from such a great distance. I look at him for a long moment, and then I take a seat at my usual table.
He goes back to his conversation with Cyrus, and I turn to my plate, trying not to look up again.
“He’s gone and fucked it, hasn’t he?” Quinn saunters over with a steaming mug in hand. She takes a seat beside me without invitation and puts her hand on my shoulder.
“No, I—I don’t know what you—”
“Oh, yeah, I thought so. He’s been moping around all morning. What did he do? One near-death experience too many?”
“No,” I say. “I actually enjoyed the griffin ride.”
She nods in appreciation. “A bit of a thrill-seeker, are you? I like that. I’m really jealous, actually. We saw you from the ground. It pissed a lot of people off, but it looked like it was worth it.”
“It was,” I say. I’m not sure how much or what to say to Quinn about what happened with Ronan. We aren’t friends, and he told me she doesn’t know the truth of what happened.
But without Larus around, it would be nice to have someone to talk to, even just a little.
“Did he confess his undying love or something? Too much too fast?”
I nearly spit out the grapefruit I’m chewing. “Does he do that often?”
“Hardly,” she says with a snort. “He never lets anyone get this close. It’s probably the only reason why he’s still alive. But it seems like the kind of thing he might do with you.”
I take a sip of tea, trying to keep my hand from shaking at hearing that. “It wasn’t that.” I know I should say more, but I’m struggling to think of a good lie. Instead, I turn the question on her. “Have you ever been in love?”
“A few times,” she says with half a smile.
“You see that girl over there, the one with the baby?” She points to a woman around her age with dark hair holding a chubby little infant in her arms, trying to get him to drink something from a mug.
“She ripped my heart out of my chest. I cursed Kerensa for about two years before I could stand to be in the same room as her.”
“What happened?” I ask.
“She married—where is he? Oh, there he is. That guy.” She points to a large man with a weird little beard that doesn’t cover his chin. Cornelius, the man who’d lost his shit when the hunt was called off.
“Adria said he’s an asshole.”
“He is. But he’ll inherit the lands and the title, and I never will.”
“I know the feeling,” I say. We’re both the youngest children in our families.
“Listen, you don’t have to tell me,” she says. “But judging by the way you two are looking at each other, it’s not over for good. Tell me what I can do to help. Do you want to make him jealous?”
“No!” I say a bit too forcefully. “No. I agree with you. It’s not over. I just…I just need a bit of time to think.”
“A distraction then,” she says, pointing to me with her pastry, her mouth half full. “The good news is the best festival is about to start.”
“I thought you’d be more into the Festival of Sport than the Arts, to be honest.”
“Are you kidding? This is the beauty festival. Have you seen the dancers? The acrobats? The theatre folks in their skimpy little costumes?”
I smile. “I do like music. I was thinking about joining the court band—”
“Oh hell no. No, Sylvie.” She looks at me like I’m insane for suggesting it. “That’s not for you. It’s all old people and quiet kids obsessed with patriotic songs. If you want to play, there’s a music competition that should be fun.”
“I don’t want to play on my own, though.”
“Getting sick of the attention?”
“Yes, actually.”
“Look, participating is fun and all, but it’s far more fun to just watch. Come on. Ronan is about to kick the whole thing off in the throne room. Then we can make a plan. You can at least stand to be in the room with him. That’s better than I could manage.”
I wasn’t planning to go to Ronan’s announcement of the Festival of Arts, but I let Quinn drag me along with her.
Honestly, it feels good to have someone else decide what to do.
And I’m sure I’ll appreciate the distraction, right after I watch the man I’m deeply conflicted about talk to his court like nothing is happening between us.
Ronan takes his time getting to the throne room to make the formal announcement. They’ve brought in benches this time since the room will be used for some of the performances, so at least we get to sit while we wait.
When Quinn and I take seats in the front row—at her insistence, though off to the side at mine—Zara comes over to join us. I realize I didn’t have a chance to mention my suspicions about poison to Ronan yet, and doing so now is going to be awkward.
Great.
“I heard you had quite the encounter with a rare animal last evening,” she says to me.
I’m not surprised this news has reached her since it seems like nothing stays quiet for long in this palace.
“I asked Ronan if we could collect some of its feathers. Not many, of course. But griffins are rarely encountered, and there could be much to learn from them.”
“Good luck,” I tell her. “He’s pretty attached to her.”
“He didn’t seem fond of the idea. I should have asked you first, it seems.”
When Zara looks away, Quinn gives me a look I can’t fully interpret.
It seems like she doesn’t want me to tell Zara that something is going on between Ronan and me.
Does she suspect something too? Or did Ronan tell her about Hermes, and that’s made her suspicious about all the alchemists, like I am?
I don’t get time to give it much thought because Ronan arrives then, and we all get on our feet to greet him. I’m reminded of the last time we were in this room when I watched someone die right beside me.
When I watched Taran kill him. Just as he’d killed my father.
Taran enters behind the king. His face is red, from embarrassment or exertion, I can’t say. It’s such a kind face. The Taran that killed the man beside me took no pleasure in it. His face was emotionless as he sliced through the man’s heart.
Was it the same when my father died?
We take our seats again as Ronan sits on the throne. He’s wearing his crown again today, along with a somewhat nicer tunic than I’ve seen him wear before. It’s the same black he prefers, but there’s a sheen to it. A subtle embroidery in a floral pattern, to honor Kerensa, no doubt.