Chapter Four
“Lady Aine will murder me.” Finnrey extricated herself from the flood of people and stood before me, gaping.
“Did you hear—”
She nodded. “Yes, the Zulenii prince has arrived. Have you seen yourself in a looking glass this morning?”
“No. Why?”
“Your jaw is yellow and green with”—she peered closer—“splotches of blue.”
I touched my aching jaw gingerly. “My mother won’t kill you. Broga did it. Besides, she should be glad for anything that makes me look less desirable to the Zulenii.”
“That’s your goal, not hers. Mission accomplished, Mara,” Finnrey said.
I would have given her a withering look if it didn’t hurt to scowl.
“Is that what you’re wearing?”
I looked down at the sleeveless undergarment and cut off leggings I slept in.
“No. I just woke up. Why aren’t you already gawking at him?
” I threw the last over my shoulder as I stepped back into the house and headed to my chamber to change.
Finnrey followed me, leaning against my bedchamber door while I stepped behind my screen and scrubbed my face with cold water.
“I woke up late, like you. We should have been at the training field first thing.”
I quickly brushed my teeth then stripped off my sleeping clothes and pulled on clean undergarments. “I don’t think one more day of sparring with Broga will matter.”
“Don’t wear that,” Finnrey said when I reached for a brown tunic. “At least make an effort.” She elbowed me out of the way and selected a honey-gold tunic. “This one makes your eyes stand out.”
The choice of tunic wasn’t worth arguing over.
The prince wasn’t likely to see me in the crowd.
I pulled the tunic over my head and then hopped into a pair of dark brown leggings.
Finnrey handed me a gold belt, and by the time I had that on, she was motioning me to sit on the bed. “I’ll fix your hair.”
This seemed like a lot of fuss to me, when I could quickly plait it and be done.
On the other hand, Finnrey was supremely skilled with hair but rarely offered to style anyone else’s, so I sat obediently.
She pulled and twisted until I thought my scalp would come off, but when she was done, a quick look in the glass showed me an elaborate braid framing my face and wrapping around my head like a crown.
The glass also showed me the bruise Finnrey had remarked on earlier. “I should use a cold compress,” I said.
“Later.” Finnrey took my arm. “He must be at the castle by now.” She started for the door, and once we were outside, I motioned her to the back of the house.
“We’ll never even get close to the castle that way.
” In the back of the house was a sturdy trellis beside the patch of earth we used to grow vegetables and lentils.
Everyone in Highcastle gardened to supplement what was brought in from the outerlands.
Having our own gardens also meant we would not starve if the castle walls were besieged by Hollows.
I climbed up the trellis until I reached the roof of the house then looked down at Finnrey.
She blew out a breath. She’d never explicitly admitted she was afraid of high places, but I’d known her long enough to notice that she avoided them.
Finnrey never wanted to go up to the castle towers or climb trees or walk on the top of a wall.
“Come on,” I said. “There’s plenty of room on the roof. ”
I saw her jaw tense before she grabbed hold of the trellis and pulled herself up.
I hadn’t lied, the roof was wide and flat.
Additionally, the houses were so close together, we had to do little more than hop from one to another.
Of course, as we neared the castle, the chore became more difficult.
We had to jump from a lower roof to a higher one, but one look down at the crowds below, and I knew we’d made the right decision.
Finnrey squealed after she jumped behind me, and I turned and caught her wrist as she wobbled. “I’ve got you.”
“I hate this,” she hissed.
“We’re almost there. There’s the castle gate. We can sit on the wall.” Several young boys and girls had already climbed the wall and were perched there.
“I hate you,” Finnrey muttered as we jumped to the next roof.
No houses were right next to the castle, so we had to climb down and push through the crowd to reach the wall.
Finnrey and I linked hands, and I pulled her through as I was tall enough to see where we were going.
Snatches of conversation swirled around us.
“Did you see—”
“—giants.”
“—on their arms and faces.”
“Terrifying giants.”
I grabbed one of the protruding stones of the wall and scrambled up.
Finnrey was right behind me, waving away my hand when I offered to help.
“Move,” I told a couple of young boys so Finnrey and I might have the best vantage point.
The boys obeyed, and Finnrey and I sat on the wall, legs dangling down. One of the guards looked up.
“Good morning, Lady Finnrey. Lady Mara.”
I didn’t know the guard’s name, but I smiled at him. “Did the Zulenii already enter?”
“No. They’re approaching now.” He pointed toward the thickest part of the crowd.
A contingent of honor guards crested the hill leading to the castle gate.
Their black coats with gold piping were instantly recognizable.
They must have been chosen to escort the Zulenii.
The guards cleared a path through the curious villagers.
I held my breath as the strangers behind them came into view.
I knew these were the Zulenii contingent immediately.
They wore strange clothing—long, close-fitting coats with intricate designs.
Their arms were covered by elaborately decorated sleeves.
Instead of leggings, they wore trousers that ended at the tips of their boots.
Three of the Zulenii were men and one was a woman.
As soon as they crested the hill, I realized why everyone had been whispering about giants.
Every single one of the Zulenii was at least a head taller than the men and women of the honor guard.
Finnrey grabbed my arm. “Mara, they—”
“They’re tall like me,” I said. “I see that.” Even more astounding, the men of the Zulenii group were actually taller than me.
I could judge their heights by that of the guard, who I saw often.
I was taller than every single member of the honor guard by four or five inches.
These men were at least a foot taller than the shortest guards.
The woman in the group was closer to my height.
“No, not their height,” Finnrey said. “Their arms.”
My gaze slid to the Zulenii man in the front of the group. As the contingent moved closer, I realized the Zulenii didn’t wear sleeves under their coats. Their bare skin was decorated with colorful art.
“Old Ceba said he would know them by the designs they wear,” Finnrey said.
I nodded. I’d thought he’d meant the markings on their clothing, but now I understood he must have meant the markings on their skin.
Although, their clothing was also decorated.
One of the men had the beaded heads of what looked like two large cats on either side of the coat he wore, the noses meeting in the middle of his chest. His coat was a deep blue, and the cats were gold.
The craftsmanship of the design was exquisite.
This was the clothing a prince would wear.
My gaze traveled from his chest to his neck, which displayed an abstract design that dipped under his coat.
Was that paint or was it permanent? Then I took in his face.
Some of the Zulenii had designs on their faces, but not this man.
He had lightly tanned skin—not of a golden hue like mine, but more of the color one achieves from a few hours in the sun.
He was clean-shaven, and the absence of facial hair exposed his square jaw and chiseled cheek bones.
He had a knife-straight nose and dark brown eyebrows.
My perusal halted on his eyes. They were a pale blue-green color I had never seen before.
I was unnerved by how pale they were, especially when contrasted with his hair.
The color was a blue-black, so dark I had rarely seen anything similar.
It looked like raven’s feathers, tied in a queue at his neck. It shone, glinting in the sun.
“That one is the prince,” Finnrey said, pointing to the man I’d been ogling.
“Yes.” There was no question. The way he carried himself was unmistakable. He had a regal bearing, that same sort my father possessed.
I couldn’t look away from him, and he seemed to sense my stare. He turned his head, his gaze passing over the crowd until it landed on me.
My breath caught in my chest as our eyes locked. The force of those piercing eyes caused me to rear back so far Finnrey put a hand on my back.
“Don’t fall, dusthead!”
“He’s looking at me,” I hissed. I felt a flash of heat on my back, like the feel of the sun in the morning after a dark night.
The warmth spread over my back and up to my neck, making me want to fan myself.
I couldn’t seem to escape that gaze. His light eyes slid over me like a silk ribbon.
I could almost feel his gaze as it touched my eyes, my nose, my lips, my neck, my breasts.
He was examining me as boldly as I had him a few moments before.
My heart sped up, and I couldn’t quite catch my breath.
His perusal finished, his eyes returned to my face, and despite the heat making my skin prickle, I raised my brows at him.
It was a challenging look. I’d given enough of them to know what to expect.
Most women and quite a few men looked away when I gave them that look.
Broga was the exception. She usually tried to smack it off my face.
But the prince didn’t appear at all intimidated.
In fact, one corner of his mouth curved up in a smile.