CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO #2
“Excuse me,” I said, and marched over to her, one hand on her arm, guiding her into a darkened corner.
“Your-Your Highness,” she stuttered and curtseyed low.
“You’re a wonderful dancer,” I said quickly, praying Jaron did not notice. “I’m most impressed with your skill. I have not seen such wonderful talent before, save for the top dancers in Spartva.”
“Truly? I did not know of Spartvan dancing. Thank you,” she said, looking genuinely stunned.
“If I were to give you a bracelet of gold and gems, would you trade it for fare to board a ship to Spartva? And use the rest of the barter to start a new life there?”
Her eyes widened. “I-thank you, Your Highness, but I couldn’t. That is too kind.”
“You could do it if you wanted,” I said, quietly slipping one of the bracelets from my wrist into her hand.
The back of my neck heated. I was being watched.
But I was in too deep. Jaron already knew I had an interest in Cecelia—this was the only way to stop the problem.
I watched her stare in awe at the bracelet, then, just to be safe, I slipped her another.
“Think of it not as kindness, but as a command from your future queen. A queen who wants to ensure that art continues to flourish in her home country.”
Cecelia’s mouth fell open, but I could see her furtively glancing around the room, her gaze pausing and darkening on Jaron. Then she pressed her lips together, her expression determined.
“Go,” I said. “Before anyone here can stop you or question where the bracelets came from.” There was more force in my voice than I’d meant to use, but I wanted her gone, away from Jaron. I wanted her safe, and if I had to scare her to make it happen, then so be it.
She curtsied, and then began making her way out of the ballroom, just as Brennan rejoined my side.
“You were speaking to the dancer?” he asked. I looked quickly past him, trying to find Jaron, to see if he’d noticed, but he had his arms around another noblewoman and seemed otherwise occupied.
“I was offering her compliments on her skill.” I smiled shyly.
His mouth tightened, some unreadable look in his eyes, but he nodded. “That was kind of you to do.”
I shrugged, knowing we were in dangerous territory. “Is everything all right with the hunt you spoke about?” I asked, my heart racing.
“Oh,” Brennan laughed, “of course. It was nothing, as usual. He just wanted to ask about some of the recent sightings of the boar we’re after, questions he certainly knows the answers to.”
“I see.” A weight lifted from my chest. Gods! The boar hunt. Not the hunt for me. I nearly gasped in relief.
“And in good news, the king granted us permission to take a temporary leave of the ball.” He gestured to his guard, half a dozen soldiers in blue cloaks and tunics embroidered with blue moonstags and flames.
We exited through the stairs leading to the back hall, and then Brennan took me through a maze of corridors that led right out into an atrium garden where fresh flowers were blooming beneath the light of the moon, their scent filling the air, and in the leafy oak trees peppering the space, robins chirped.
Vines ran up the surrounding walls full of roses that reminded me of the ones in Azeal.
We were perfectly encased within the safety of the castle, and yet surrounded by nature, with a clear view of the sky.
“This is Lafir Castle’s moon garden,” he said.
I stared in genuine awe, looking up at the full moon, and then seeing how its reflected light lit up the garden, an effect achieved with some carefully placed mirrors and torches. I spun around and shook my head, almost in disbelief. “It’s beautiful.”
His eyes were on me. “It is.”
My chest tightened as I stared back, and for a second, Brennan seemed to lean in toward me, like he was lost for a moment in my eyes. But then he began to scan the garden slowly and methodically, his gaze falling on every garden entrance and every guard who’d come to protect us.
“There’s something I want to show you,” he said, and reached for my hand.
Brennan walked us past a small bench situated beneath two trees whose branches looked as if they were reaching for each other.
And then behind it was the oak, its branches hanging so low, we had to duck to get past them and reach the trunk.
His guard dispersed to take their stations at every possible entrance to the garden.
But they were just out of earshot, and with the low-hanging leaves, for once we couldn’t be seen. We were completely alone.
“This is nice,” I said, somewhat nervous. I released his hand and turned in a circle, taking it all in. “Peaceful.”
“Private,” he said.
I swallowed, turning my body back toward his.
“I used to come here as a boy,” he continued, running his fingers through the leaves of a branch just above his head. Though it was spring, they looked more gold than green in the moonlight and torchlight. “I called it my secret spot.”
I smiled, glancing side to side. “Doesn’t seem so secret.”
He laughed. “Well, to me it was when I was too young to understand that just because I couldn’t see my guards, it didn’t mean that they didn’t know exactly where I was, and were standing at the entranceways, exactly as they are now.”
I laughed.
“But I guess the nickname stuck. At least in my mind. I still like to come here to read, to draw, to think, and while I know it’s,” he sighed, “clearly not so secret, it’s a good place for us to talk, a place where we’re not likely to be overheard.”
“Oh,” I said, my heart racing.
Brennan’s expression turned serious, and he took another step toward me. “Can I ask you something? Something … strange?”
The racing in my chest turned to a drum-like thud. “Of course. Anything.”
“That dancer you spoke to just before—I-I didn’t want to say anything at the ball—but,” he gestured to my arm, then slowly, his fingers moved down the bracelets that still covered my wrist, until he reached my hands, his fingers lightly grazing over my skin before he pulled away.
“I count four.” His eyes lifted to mine. “You started the night with six.”
“You-you noticed?” I asked, barely daring to breathe.
“I find myself noticing everything about you lately.”
“And?” I asked, too afraid of where he was going.
“You gave her two of your bracelets, didn’t you?”
I nodded slowly, my throat suddenly dry.
“Why?”
“I …” I swallowed. “I’m sorry-I shouldn’t have—”
“No,” he said quickly. “No. I’m not upset. Gods, how could I be? Nor am I accusing you of anything. I truly just want to know. Why?”
I took a deep breath, deciding to be as honest as I could.
I was already wrapped in too many lies. “I thought she could use them. I-I heard it was her tavern where she worked that burned down outside the city after the chimera attacked. And I just wanted to offer her some help in restarting her life.”
Brennan nodded. “That was very kind of you to do. More kind than I expected.”
“Because you didn’t think of me as kind?” I asked, terrified I’d made a fatal error.
“No, because I didn’t know the depths of your kindness. Until tonight.” His eyes darkened. “I noticed my cousin Jaron has been around her quite a few times.”
“Oh? Is that so?” I asked, trying to sound surprised, but I sounded ridiculous, even to myself.
“It is. And I think you know that,” he said.
I squeezed my eyes shut, praying I was making the right choice as I said, “I do.”
Brennan let out a shaky breath. “You’re not the only one who noticed. Nor is she the first that he’s—” his nostrils flared, “given such attention to.”
“I see.” My throat went dry as I met his eyes. My heart still pounded, waiting for him to accuse me—to connect me to Cecelia the same way Jaron had. To realize Olivay was not that kind—would never give jewelry away with such ease.
Brennan bit his lip, his brow furrowed as he stared up at the oak’s golden leaves, then to me, like he’d made some kind of important decision.
“One should not speak ill of their cousins,” Brennan said slowly.
“Nor do I wish to worry you or complicate the contract between our families. But …” He sighed.
“I feel it is my duty as your future husband to warn you, and to keep you safe. Jaron and I grew up together. Very close, we were by each other’s side for everything always, our entire lives.
Our fathers weren’t just brothers, you see, they were twins.
A rarity in the family bloodline. But so it was, and it made him my brother, made him far more important than any cousin.
Especially when my uncle passed away. That was when my father took him under his wing, treated him like he was another son. ”
“That must have been hard for him,” I said, trying to speak carefully. I had no sympathy for Jaron. He was a fucking monster. But losing a parent was never easy. Especially as a child.
Brennan shrugged. “It was. But I lost a parent, too, when I was young,” he sucked in a breath.
“Too young.” He bit his lip. “My mother. She was beautiful and kind, but she was—well.” He shook his head.
“I remember feeling as if I couldn’t breathe after it happened.
It took weeks for the feeling to go away. ”
My eyes watered. Memories of myself in the moments after I’d lost my mother appeared like a flash in my mind.
Coming back down into the snow, the red scales and talons falling away, my skin and bones reverting back to my old body.
My energy drained, my breath coming short.
I remembered the way it felt as if my heart physically hurt.
The way it took months for that pain to dull.
But I couldn’t say a thing, couldn’t tell him I understood. Olivay’s mother was alive.
“She’s the one who used to bring me here,” he said. “Tell me stories. Fairy tales.” His gaze lifted again to the tree. “This looks like an oak, but the leaves are always gold when unfurled, not green. She used to say it was from a seed Kavrir carried from the old world, that the tree was magic.”