21. The Shadow of Him
Chapter twenty-one
The Shadow of Him
A fter returning to High Tower Castle under the cover of complete darkness, Solveig woke the next morning to a harsh rap on the door to her bedchamber. A second later, Teris waltzed inside. Two servants scurried in behind her with eyes downcast, each carrying a large velvet bag.
“Good morning, Your Highness.” She beamed. “Feeling better after a night’s rest, I hope?” She walked toward the windows, throwing the drapes wide, allowing the sun to cascade into the room, shining off her slicked back red hair.
The two servants left the bags lying on the chaise at the foot of the bed, racing to leave as quickly as they had arrived. Teris stared at them, a playful gleam in her eyes. Solveig reached warily for one bag, grimacing at the unexpected heaviness as she tipped it upside down on the bed.
Daggers, throwing stars and knives of all shapes and sizes, scattered across the bed. Some Solveig recognised, others she didn’t. Those were shinier, newer, likely never even used. Her gaze caressed each gleaming blade from largest to smallest. Her fingers itched to test each of them for balance and sharpness, longed to hear them sing through the air.
She reached out a shaking hand to pick up the two smallest and most expensive daggers. They were a matching pair and had been the last gift that Aldrik had given her.
“ For when your outfit doesn’t afford a hiding spot.” Aldrik had laughed, as she slid closer to him on the couch. Fire flickering in the background, somehow cooler than the heat that bloomed across her skin from being close to him.
“Why don’t you show me what you pictured?” she whispered over her shoulder. She’d heard his shaky exhale. Revelled as his fingers drifted along the length of her neck, across one shoulder, and down her arm. His touch left gooseflesh in its wake and tremors in her blood. He plucked the daggers from her hand and carefully slid them, crisscrossed over each other through the knot of her hair. Only the obsidian jewelled hilts and shining steel points were visible.
“If I’d known sharpened steel was the easiest way to your heart,” he whispered, placing a kiss to her nape. “I would’ve bought you an entire armoury years ago.” Solveig twisted on the spot, sealing her mouth over his,
“You never needed to work for it,” she whispered between breathless kisses. “My heart was always yours.”
Solveig forced the memory back into the confines of her mind, where it belonged. In a locked chest covered in dust, never to be reopened. She gripped the twin blades fervently. Watching as they caught the light shining through the windows, her reflection distorted within the steel.
“Your Highness?” Teris asked from where she stood beside the bed. Concern clear in her creased brow, Solveig glanced up at her expectantly. “Their Majesties, King Emerson, and Queen Asta, wanted to welcome you back to High Tower Castle. They had your belongings retrieved from the vaults last night, and they will reinstate your funds by this evening.”
Solveig eyed her, frowning as suspicion coiled. Whatever the test had been at the temple, they had clearly decided she had passed, despite the blood spill.
“The queen,” Teris continued, “has also requested that you join her in the tearoom this afternoon. Master Gabriel and Leader Ezekiel will join you as well.”
The delight at having her daggers returned to her, guttered immediately. The last thing she wanted to do was sit around one of her mother’s delicate tables. Sipping her special blends of herbal tea from floral cups. She wished for the dirt and screams of Luxenal once more. But at least it gave her the morning to go searching for answers within the castle.
“Where are my parents this morning?” she asked Teris, trying to appear disinterested as she toyed with the weapons before her.
“The queen is with her ladies, preparing for the upcoming manifestation ceremony.”
“And the king?”
“With his advisors,” Teris swallowed, and Solveig’s gaze rose to see Teris’s lower. “They’ve gone to The Hallows. There’s talk that the grounds may need expanding soon.” Teris’s voice was gloomy as Solveig’s blood ran cold in her veins. That The Hallows needed expanding was a frightful thought. The mere idea that the dead may soon outnumber the living as the blood curse ran rampant through the realm.
Solveig rose from her bed, careful of the daggers still scattered across the sheets. She slipped into her robe, heading for the bathing chamber without a word, for there was nothing more to say. No words existed that could comfort either woman when faced with the harrowing truth that either of them could be next.
When she exited, hair still damp, Teris handed her a fur blanket, to keep her warm against the morning chill. “Sit,” she ordered. Teris removed her hair from the towel wrap, letting it fall down her back. Solveig was instantly grateful for the blanket, shivering slightly as Teris set to work, brushing it free of tangles.
Soon a gentle warmth caressed her scalp, her eyes drifting closed as Teris worked her magic. When she opened them again moments later, her hair was completely dry. Teris made quick work of pulling the princess’s hair into a bun, but when she moved away to grab her clothes, Solveig reached for her.
“I want to wear these in my hair from now on,” she said. Staring up at Teris, whose gaze fell to the small twin daggers. To most, they would be nothing more than a daring accessory. But Solveig knew, as Aldrik had, that she had the skill to make them every bit as deadly as full-size daggers.
With an almost imperceptible nod, Teris took the weapons from her. Placing each one carefully through her bun until they crossed each other like swords beneath a coat of arms. Once upon a time, Solveig hadn’t been able to even look at them without falling apart completely. Now, she would wear them with pride. She would carry a piece of him with her everywhere, including to tea with her betrothed.