Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
It was late when I finally left the library, my eyes aching at all the material I had gone over.
After Bran had taken his leave, I took the opportunity to study various potion tomes, from history to the art of mixing and everything in between.
Despite having confidence in my abilities and Merle's teaching, I wanted to be as prepared as I could be for whatever laid ahead in the next trial.
The gardens were quiet at this time of night, with only a few straggling apprentices returning to their rooms or out for a late night walk with a friend.
There were few people around and I was thankful for the quiet.
A cool breeze flirted through the air, a nice reprieve from the bone chilling wind that had been plaguing the city.
Spring wasn't near, but it appeared the weather decided to bless Amori City tonight.
I veered from the garden paths, heading towards the palace.
Knowing I couldn't enter, wouldn't dare without permission.
I still wanted to look more closely at the engravings on the wall, at the myths and stories they told.
When I got close enough to the giant structure cast in the light of the moon, I trailed my hand along the carving of a firesprite winding through a vine and into a forest, my gaze travelling further before I froze.
My shadows hissing to life at the—
My ears strained.
A cry?
A child's pained cry.
I walked quickly as I followed the sound that led around the back of the building. I knew that's where the servants entrance would be and my heart picked up slightly in pace. At the second cry I was running, my feet quiet and light as I rounded the corner.
I took in the scene before me, a terrifying rage brewing deep within. The boy who had delivered Bran's message was leaning his back against the palace wall, blood trickling from his nose as he carefully cradled his arm. He stared up in fear at the man who stood before him.
His shoulders were broad, his height intimidating as he towered over the young Luanthian, or Solerian convert.
My shadows responded eagerly to the wrath that burned through me, a fan to the flames as they hissed and slid beneath my skin.
Do you see the fear, little shadow?
To hurt a child is such a grievous sin.
Let us pay back the pain he has caused by ten.
The boy's eyes slid to me, widening slightly, and that was when I stepped forward.
I needed to be careful how I approached this, a reckless idea forming.
"There you are.” I stalked forward, practically shouldering my way around the large man.
I played the part perfectly, a haughty Solerian woman, without a care or fear of retribution.
I spun then, facing him as my hands landed upon my hips.
“Why are you holding him up? l've been waiting on his arrival for an hour and had to traipse all the way down here. "
His thin lips pulled back in a sneer. “The Luanthian scum had two silver coins on him. He's a thief and I was trying to figure out where he obtained them from."
I took in the guard uniform the man was wearing, a golden breastplate, the sigil of the King etched upon it.
This man was part of the KingsGuard, not an ordinary soldier then. Lifting my chin slightly, my hand waved. "I gave them to him. The boy is a message carrier. I asked him to gather some herbs to practice my potions, and figured he should be compensated as it's not part of his job generally."
The lie slid easily from my tongue.
Telling him that Bran and I had tipped the boy for delivering messages would have been far too suspicious.
Luanthian’s were not generally treated with that kind of respect, and I’d be marked as a sympathizer, something I could not afford to be labeled on the palace grounds.
In Amori City, fine. In the Old Quarter, fine.
However, under the scrutiny of all these eyes, the royal family? Absolutely not.
"Is that true, boy?"
A shaky breath sounded from behind. "Yes sir, I was on my way to collect the herbs that I stored to bring them to her."
Goddess please don't let this man ask to see those herbs.
"Rainer, what's going on here?"
Normally that voice would have sent chills spilling down my spine, but at this very moment it sounded like salvation.
Roan Delmar stepped around the side of the building, his white hair glowing in the silver moonlight. His eyes locked on me for a moment too long before moving to the boy who had slowly been inching behind me, taking shelter from the fury of the soldier who had hurt him.
The Kinslayer’s eyes flitted back to Rainer who now stood at attention. "You were supposed to return to the barracks twenty minutes ago for debriefing after Kilken took over your post."
"Thought the kid was a thief, Captain," Rainer explained. “He had two silver coins on him, but the lady says she gave them to—”
"Leave."
Bitterness crawled up my throat as his stare met mine again, never wavering, not even as the guard stalked away towards the barracks. I held the Kinslayer’s gaze for a moment longer than necessary, before my worry outwon the challenge that lay there. Quickly turning, I crouched to the boy’s level.
I didn't give a shit if Roan Delmar thought me a sympathizer.
The stake had always been my fate, a call that haunted me with every breath that left my body. I refused to let the fear of it diminish the compassion within me.
Wiping the blood from the boy's face, I gently touched his nose, checking to make sure it wasn't broken. “Are you okay?"
The relief came swiftly when it was just slightly swollen, and I moved my attention to his arm as he nodded. "Thank you, Miss."
I carefully felt around, my eyes narrowing at his wince, not missing the slight tremble of his words. Sitting back on my heels, his dark eyes were wide and glimmering with unshed tears.
"I don't believe it's broken, merely sprained, but it's best to go to a Healer tonight and have it taken care of." My explanation was quiet, strained with emotion that I tried to contain.
His lower lip quivered, eyes downcast. "The Master Healers don't take Solerian convert patients for another two days, Miss."
My head snapped to the side, intensity burning in my question.
“The Healers have set days that converts can visit them?
" I didn't wait for a response before I turned back and asked, "Do you deliver messages beyond the palace walls?
" At his nod, I pulled a small piece of paper and a pencil from his satchel.
Not wanting to cause him any more trouble, I kept the message simple, in case his mail was checked before going out.
I miss you. I am doing well. I hope you are well. There is something we must discuss when I visit.
S
Folding it, I tucked it into his pocket and said, “Take this message for me tomorrow and while you are there, my aunt will call for a Master Healer."
I gave him instructions on how to reach the shop, Merle's name, and made him repeat it back twice to make sure he remembered before I let him go. He thanked me before he left, scurrying into the servants entrance, his arm still cradled against his chest.
I kept my back to the Kinslayer, my eyes pinned to the doorway the child had disappeared into.
Honestly, I hoped if I didn't turn he would simply get bored and stalk away, but I was never truly that lucky.
He had been quiet throughout that entire exchange, perhaps a record seeing as he never seemed to shut up any other time I had been around him.
No sharp words or low blows came from his lips tonight, at least not yet.
Arms crossing over my chest, guarded and untrusting, I finally faced him. He stared back, boring into me as if he were trying to splay me open and read my soul, to reveal the secrets I kept buried within.
I fought the urge to squirm beneath the scrutiny.
He made to speak, but I beat him to it.
"I believe there was a misunderstanding last night," I started and his mouth immediately shut. The last thing I thought I’d be doing tonight was apologizing to him. "I am sorry if you thought my reaction to being seen with you was because you're Luanthian—”
"I'm not Luan—”
My voice raised, cutting over his objection. "Because you're a Solerian convert," I corrected before continuing, "I do not care what you once were or what you are now. That is not why I dislike you."
He raised a brow at that. "I believe this is the strangest apology I've ever heard." His drawling condescension had my blood boiling as he took a few lazy steps forward, his head tilting slyly to the side when he got close. “Tell me, little menace—why do you dislike me, then?"
I was determined not to be intimidated by this man. I had spent my life cowering in the shadows out of fear, out of self preservation. I was tired.
Goddess, I was so tired and there was something so infuriating about him.
This man who had turned his back on his own people and served the Kingdom that had cast them out.
But was I not doing the same? Was that why I disliked him so much, because I saw everything I hated about myself reflected in him?
Was a bystander to terrible deeds any better than the one whose hands committed them?
"I dislike you because you are an arrogant, self-centered, ill-tempered man." Each word was punctuated with a sharp stab of my finger to his chest, my cheeks reddening with ire. "I dislike you because if there's one thing I can't stand, it's a coward.”
A chilling, vicious smile tugged at his lips then, his eyes anything but kind.
He stepped closer, gripping my wrist, my finger still stabbing into his chest. He leaned down, so closely that if I moved I was sure his lips would brush against the tip of my ear.
His breath fluttered strands of my hair, every muscle in my body locking.
"Call me a coward again, little menace," he whispered so quietly, the words a deadly caress that had my heart beating a wild rhythm. “And I'll flay the skin from your bones and toss you in the woods for all the little creatures to feast upon, do you understand?"
The irony wasn’t lost upon me. The threat was so similar to the one I had dealt in the tavern.
"You don't scare me." We both knew it was a lie. I was sure he could hear the pounding in my chest. The way my heart constricted as fear slithered through my bones.
"I should." He smirked, stepping back.
My nerves were on edge as he turned his back to me, hands sliding in his pockets as he made his way towards the barracks, without even a glance in my direction.
“The Prince will call upon you tomorrow for your decision–be ready.”
Cursing beneath my breath, I flipped the most unladylike gesture I could think of at his retreating back.
Yessss.
The shadows mused, their hissing song a mocking melody.
You certainly showed him.