11. Ezryn
11
Ezryn
I lean against the door frame, ignoring the frost that’s slowly creeping over my armor.
Keldarion paces before me, gaze down, a familiar snarl on his face. He hasn’t noticed me yet and I’ll give him a few more moments before I announce myself. I don’t find myself often in the Winter Wing and I need to have a look.
Was it always like this or has it gotten worse? When’s the last time I was here? I peer out from the shaded black visor in my helmet. Thorns crystalized in frost scar each surface. The walls shine with ice fractals and the floors are treacherous with black ice. His sword is discarded beneath his bed.
No, it’s definitely gotten worse.
I clear my throat, and Kel whips around to face me, his eyes shining like a wounded animal. As soon as he registers me, his body relaxes, and he sighs. “Oh. You’re back.”
“Arrived an hour ago,” I say. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
Kel snorts and continues his pacing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dusting the frost off my shoulders, I step into the room. “We’re keeping human prisoners now?”
Kel leans against the windowsill, staring out at the Briar. “There was a trespassing thief from the human realm. Would you have preferred it if I killed him?”
I run a finger along the thick layer of snow that’s settled over his blankets and pillows. The cold cuts through even my armor. Spring and Winter have a long history and I am no stranger to the clinging remains of a frost, but this cold is unlike any I’ve ever felt outside of the Winter Realm. “And the girl?”
“The servants talk too much,” Kel grumbles.
So, he was going to be a cagey asshole. “We’re in the business of imprisoning innocent human girls, then?”
Kel whips around and snarls at me, “If you want a say in how my castle is run, maybe you should actually stay inside it.”
I’m perfectly still, not allowing an inch of movement to give away that his words have any effect on me. Times like this, I’m grateful for the helm. I should have known Keldarion was monitoring my comings and goings.
I take a long, silent breath to steady my emotions and pace away from him. “All these years, not a single soul has been allowed to dwell inside the castle save us, the servants, and Quellos. You’ve sent away all of Caspian’s annoyances. Now, you’re willingly keeping a prisoner?”
Kel slams his elbows down on the table, sending up a dusting of snow, then sinks his head into his hands. “Her father stole from me. She found him and offered to trade her freedom for his. Who am I to deny her that right?”
I stare at him. I know he feels it even though he can’t see my eyes because he sighs, “What is it, Ez?”
What is it? Keldarion has never been one for keeping personal prisoners, not even war criminals. And he certainly has no interest in humans. He’s hiding something. A part of me wants to grab him by his shoulders and shake him.
But no one in the fucking four realms would dare try that.
The question turns over in my mind. Why now? Why does he have any interest in this human after having interest in nothing at all?
I think back to earlier when I was coming home and saw the girl hanging precariously off the bramble bushes, climbing down from the dungeon tower.
When she was running toward the Briar like the snakes of Below were on her heels, I swore she was some sort of servant of Sira or Caspian. I was ready to take the life from her right there.
Tin can . That’s what she’d called me. It was so ridiculous, I almost could have laughed. Almost.
She’d stared me down with such a fire, I had no idea how to read it. Fear, anger. Something else.
It was a good thing Astrid showed up. I don’t know what I would have done. Probably let her go.
But even I dare not disobey the master of Castletree.
Keldarion stares at me with that familiar intensity. He wants an answer to his question.
Maybe I’m a masochist. Maybe I want Kel to feel anything at all, even if it’s hatred for me. But I ask, “You can’t possibly think the human woman is your—”
Kel flies across the room in a single instant, slamming me into the wall, and holding his forearm against my neck. “Don’t say that word to me,” he roars. His eyes flash with the power within.
It takes everything in me not to shudder into submission. But I force my muscles to stay still, take a slow breath, and calm my heart. We stay locked together for a moment, two wills facing each other.
Finally, he drops his arm and turns his back to me. “Leave me, Ez.”
I turn to the door. “I gave her a room and told Astrid to attend her. We’re not beasts.”
At least, not yet.