Chapter 2 #2
I slid my hands over the rest of her swiftly, trying not to linger anywhere.
Her pockets held a set of keys with a sparkling black-spotted pink pig sculpture dangling from the ring on top of a glittering ball, and a pink glittery tube labeled Strawberry Smackers.
Not particularly interesting as a threat, though I’d never seen anything like it before.
Her cheeks flushed, and she glared at me. “Asshole,” she muttered.
I’d have retorted something sharp and cutting if I could have rerouted the blood back to my brain.
Instead, I grunted, stepped back, and jerked my thumb toward the western entrance.
“Put her in the dungeon. Not with any of the other prisoners. No one talks to her but me. And double the guard at this portal point in case anyone else follows her example.”
“Hey!” she protested as they dragged her off. Her pink and white shoes shuffled over the flagstones and squeaked as she fought for purchase. “Let go of me! I haven’t done anything wrong!”
I resisted the urge to watch her go. The tugging in my chest intensified and urged me to go after her. This had to stop. I’d killed to become king, laid aside everything I’d been, and I wouldn’t be distracted now.
“Well, that was interesting.” Ashren sidled closer, his tone low. “Your eyes went completely violet for a bit there. Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Apparently, I should tell you that your eyes are no longer functioning.” I refused to look at him as I started toward the eastern servant’s entrance.
My muscles tensed though. It had been a foolish lie.
There was no reason to pretend she hadn’t impacted me, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit it, even to Ashren.
“Just stay away from her. I’ll handle her myself. ”
“I’m sure you will,” Ashren said with a sly smile.
I growled at him but didn’t slow my pace.
Before I’d risen through the ranks to become king, I had entered the palace through the servant entrances.
A part of me still felt more at ease with the closeness of those stone walkways because they limited the number of people who would see me, versus if I entered through the main hall.
My head brushed the door jamb, and if I spread out my arms fully, my hands would press on either wall.
Ashren followed me into the narrow hall, his footsteps lighter than mine. “What do you intend to do with her?”
“None of your Fate’s-damned business,” I snapped. I had no clue what I was going to do with her, and I didn’t need anyone pointing that out.
“Well, we have to get answers from her—” he started.
I spun to face him and pointed my finger into his face. “There is no we in this matter. You will not do anything to her. I will speak to her in my own time. Do you understand?”
Ashren lifted his hands while his mouth twitched like something was funny. “Indeed. If I am not to aid in this matter, what would you have me do instead?”
“Speak with the quartermaster and ensure we have sufficient supplies for the outposts bordering the Night Court. It’s going to be a long, cold winter, and Bram is likely to exploit that.” I didn’t wait for Ashren to confirm the order. He’d do as he was told.
I turned into the next hall and took the tight staircase to the fourth floor, where my study lay. The heavy wooden door carved with constellations and dusk emblems swung open at my shove, and I slammed it shut behind me. The sound cracked through the silence like a whip.
The room was colder than usual, the hearth unlit. I didn’t bother with a fire because my anger burned hot enough.
Maps and missives covered every surface of the heavy oak table in the center of the room.
Smaller tables sat at intervals against the wall, and a massive desk was stationed near the window.
Sideboards held unopened bottles of dark wine and frost gin.
Star charts hung on the walls, their ink shimmering faintly under the lamplight.
Each one showed the slow shift of constellations—the faint bleed of the Night Court’s magic where it pressed against our sky.
Most were enchanted, adapting and adjusting to the patterns of the stars as they shifted.
But a few were hand-drawn and based on observations of what the sky should look like.
My uncle’s old astrolabe sat beside a stack of ledgers, brass dulled from use, gears catching the light with each rotation. It sat just atop the map of the territories nearest the Night Court with circles drawn and redrawn around the mountain passes like wounds that wouldn’t heal.
I dragged off my gloves and dropped them onto a table by a star mirror.
When I glimpsed my reflection, I turned away.
I had no desire to look at that man—a man with far too much blood on his hands, who was running out of time.
I reached inside my coat to my tunic and removed a silver compass. My uncle’s.
I placed it on the top right corner of the map, and it settled into place with a soft click.
After all that had been sacrificed, I could not falter. Not even for my mate.
A knot of grief formed in my chest alongside a hollowness that threatened to tear me apart.
Memories of being cold, hungry, and afraid returned, of my father rejecting us before his death, followed by my uncle showing us compassion and allowing us to return to the safety of the city and the palace. Why were these memories returning?
Damn that woman.
This was her fault.
Her presence was already undoing me and bringing things to the surface that I had no time to deal with now. Our connection was burning through the barriers I had struggled so hard to erect. Giving in to it would weaken me, make me vulnerable. I’d be useless, both to my people and ultimately to her.
Nothing good would come of being near Hannah right now.
If I were smart, I’d kill her and be done with it.
I froze in place.
No.
That wasn’t necessary. It wouldn’t be necessary. I’d figure something else out. The situation could still be managed.
I strode to the sideboard, opened the top left drawer, and seized a bottle of lorn leaf.
The dull green leaves had been ground into a fine powder.
It took only a moment to mix a dose into a glass of cold, bitter frost gin, and I downed it in a single gulp.
The foul taste coated my tongue. It hadn’t gotten better with time, but it was the only thing that gave me peace.
I poured more of the frost gin into a clean glass and tried to wash out the horrid flavor.
A burning foulness spread through me, chilling me to my core. The tumultuous feelings receded. Hannah would be dealt with soon. For now, I would let the lorn leaf do its work and get back to preparing for the next Night Court attack.
I turned my attention to the records, observations, and reports sent from the outposts and the watches.
The Night Court’s assaults had worsened over the years, even though King Bram himself had become uncharacteristically cowardly.
Reports from the northern and northeastern ridges between the Salt Mountains and the Shadow Peaks indicated that Bram had been solidifying forces in front of our borders and that more were massing near the Night Court’s southernmost outposts.
They were going to attack the Aurora Court soon, while the court remained blanketed in sleep.
If my informants were correct, Bram still didn’t have the enchanted dagger needed to open the veil, though he had tried to find every single remaining Aurora Fae that lived to demand they assist him or die.
But the continued massing of forces concerned me.
The volcanoes had been growing in activity as well, but they had not erupted, suggesting that Bram was using his magic to keep all that power focused. But for what and when?
I made preparations for the upcoming war meeting with my brother and generals.
Winter would soon be upon us. Without the presence of the Day and Aurora Courts to unveil the sun, the chill of dusk and the cold of night would make our lives all the harder.
Restoring the Aurora Court would bring a little more sun, but our world would remain imbalanced.
At last, I strode to the long line of narrow windows that overlooked the inner courtyard. The torches below cast fitful halos over the stone tiles and glistened on tiny flakes of falling snow.
My thoughts returned to Hannah, and I pressed my fists into the chilled stone windowsill.
Her presence was an intolerable addition to an already tense situation.
The detached feeling I sought wasn’t as present as I wanted.
If I wasn’t back to my old self within an hour, I’d take another dose of lorn leaf.
Being near my fated mate probably meant I’d be burning through the emotion-dulling herb at a much higher rate.
I dipped my head forward and closed my eyes, and numbness spread through my chest. Answers would come. They had to.
I opened my eyes and peered out into the courtyard once more, only to see a dark form moving toward the dungeon entrance. A low growl rose in my throat. I’d made it explicitly clear that he wasn’t to go down there.