Chapter 52 Home
Castien walked through the salt-laden mist with his hands tucked into his pockets. The bones of barren trees created an arch over his head. Snow crunched under his black dress shoes. In the distance he could make out the faint sound of music floating on the icy breeze.
Tonight his peers would dance beneath glittering chandeliers.
They’d drink berry wine until their minds became too fuzzy to recall exactly why they were celebrating in the first place.
Laughter would ring through the ballroom and smiles would be worn alongside diamonds and rubies.
All the while, Percilean was at the bottom of the Tides.
Kelda, Alysia, Perci, Adalin. Heron before them.
All innocent lives ripped away from the world.
Their absence felt only by those who loved them enough to not be placated by fine food and music.
Castien’s grief would certainly not be assuaged by such nonsense.
The only reason he was attending was as a gesture of good will to the headmaster.
She had opted to disclose the presence of the tunnels to only a select few people: Ivanhild and Westover.
Cyprus and Adalin’s bodies were assessed by the small team, then disposed of.
The area was then combed for further evidence, but the headmaster said she had no intention of making use of the tunnels for now.
Castien did not know what the future held, but her discrepancy warranted acceptance of the invitation.
There was also the matter of Wren, who would be in attendance.
In the week since Cyprus’s death, she had hardly left his side.
Castien could not complain, for he felt so encumbered by grief at times that he thought it might swallow him whole.
He needed the warmth of her presence to combat the chill of his darkest thoughts.
The ones that told him he was at fault for all of it.
That he should be the one at the bottom of the Tides, not Perci.
The music grew louder. Torchlight lit his path through the snow.
He told Wren he’d meet her in the ballroom.
Castien hadn’t known how long it would take to force himself to get properly dressed and leave his chambers.
Preparing himself for the burden of human interaction was tiresome in the wake of Perci’s death.
Castien gathered his wits and forced his princely mask in place.
That was the most exhausting part of it all.
The Tides-cursed pretending. How was he supposed to wake up and go about his days as though there wasn’t a gaping wound in his chest?
Next week the headmaster expected classes to resume.
Castien had no idea how he would manage it.
Light flooded the night as the door at the top of the stairs opened. A cascade of sparkling skirts came into view. Castien’s breath caught. Wren smiled down at him.
“I was watching through the windows, waiting for you to arrive,” she said as he climbed the steps to meet her.
His storyteller was a vision to behold. She wore a shimmering gown that resembled an icicle with its opalescent shade of blue.
Her pale blonde locks were left in loose curls down her back, and atop her head was an arrangement of diamonds and pearls that formed a tiara.
White silk gloves covered her fingertips all the way to her elbows.
She was a picture of timeless elegance. The embodiment of a future empress.
“I have never seen anyone or anything as beautiful as you,” Castien murmured.
Wren’s cheeks turned the color of peonies. He took her hands in his. A breeze lifted her hair. Snow began to fall. Dainty snowflakes peppered Wren’s hair and skin, making her look like she belonged in a children’s storybook. She giggled as a flake landed on the tip of her nose.
“I do not deserve you,” Castien rasped, gazing upon her in awe.
Wren squeezed his hands.
“I would say the same to you,” she replied.
Castien shook his head. “Nonsense. You deserve much more. You deserve every good thing this world has to offer and then some.”
Wren let go of his hands and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Castien settled his hands around her waist and felt his heart settle, too.
There was something about Wren’s presence that acted as a balm to his bruised soul.
He supposed that darkness could not overcome light, and Wren was made of starlight.
“I don’t want every good thing in the world.” She toyed with the hair on the nape of his neck. “I only want you.”
“Only me?” Castien pulled her closer, so her body was flush with his. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You endeavor to increase my ego.”
Her eyes sparkled with mirth.
“The aim was to increase your happiness, my pompous prince.”
Castien tipped his head down and brushed his lips against hers. They were cold from the snow. He would need to get her inside soon, but he longed for just a moment with her before he had to face the world again.
“Your presence alone does that, my dearest Wren.”
He captured her lips in a kiss. She tasted of peppermint and honey and every sweet dream he had ever had.
His hands pressed against her back, desperately trying to draw her closer.
Nothing was close enough. Wren seemed to share his sentiment with the way she arched into him.
Her fingers ran through his hair, pulling a low hum from his chest. She smiled against his lips.
“I love you,” she breathed.
“I love you,” Castien echoed.
Wren shivered in his arms. Castien pulled back and tipped his head toward the door.
“Come, my love. Let’s get you inside before you freeze.”
She nodded, her cheeks flushed. They walked into the foyer together, and Wren let out a soft sigh as heat enveloped them. Castien offered his arm, which she took, tucking in closer than was typical. They approached the ballroom doors, and the guards posted outside bowed before opening them.
Having Wren at his side didn’t make Castien want to attend the ball, but it did make the act less excruciating.
He surveyed the room. Everything was as he’d imagined.
Shining gowns, tailored suits, perfect smiles.
Opulence on full display. A dazzling distraction for those foolish enough to fall for it.
“Our friends are right over there,” Wren told him with a gesture toward the far-right corner of the room.
Kierana, Eindar, and Finn sat around a table cloaked in white linen. Castien had told the headmaster not to invite Letta. It would be an insult in the face of her overwhelming grief.
“I visited Letta prior to the ball,” Wren said softly, as if she could read his mind.
Castien had found that by leaving his emotions on display for her, that she often pieced together his thoughts before he said them aloud. She gently tugged Castien toward the table. He followed, his shoes feeling as though they were lined with lead.
“She was well, all things considered. Her maid said she’s been eating more, and she left her bed today.”
Castien nodded in acknowledgement of her words. There was little he could say. All he wanted to do was scream that it was his fault and he was sorry he had failed everyone. But Wren wouldn’t allow that. She spent each day trying to convince him otherwise.
They approached the table. Finn lifted his top hat in lieu of a proper greeting. His blue eyes were lined with exhaustion and rimmed in shadow. Still, he smiled as Castien and Wren sat down.
“You two sure took your time making your way in here,” Finn said, his implication clear in his tone.
“We were admiring the snow,” Wren replied, though the blush on her cheeks contradicted her words.
Finn hummed, his gaze bouncing around the room. “Perhaps I will find someone to admire the snow with tonight.”
Everyone at the table knew Finn would do no such thing. He was more likely to fall asleep at the table than to seek out a woman to flirt with, but humor was his way of coping.
“You have perfect timing,” Kierana said, ignoring Finn’s previous statement. “The headmaster gave a ridiculous speech before you came in about how the academy was beaten down, but it would rise again.”
Castien gritted his teeth. The headmaster had arranged the preposterous ball to celebrate justice being brought forth, so it made sense from a political standpoint that she would give such a monologue.
But none of this was political to those who had lost their loved ones. Wren grasped his hand under the table.
“No one clapped,” Finn said dryly. “She should have waited until everyone had drunk more wine.”
“I wish it were Eventide,” Kierana said. “I need off this Tides-cursed island.”
Eindar grunted his agreement.
“Should we expect an invite to a wedding in Stonemouth?” Finn asked with a smirk.
Kierana’s face turned red.
“Why would you ask such a thing?” she hissed.
“I’m not hearing any rebuttal from your brute,” Finn teased.
A smile blossomed across Wren’s face. The sight sent warmth through Castien’s chest.
“We don’t have any plans,” Kierana said in the meekest voice Castien had ever heard leave her.
Eindar said nothing the entire time, but there was a slight quirk on one side of his mouth that indicated he was entertained.
“I’ll keep my schedule open.” Finn winked, then swung his gaze to Wren. “And what about you, darling Wren? What are your Eventide plans?”
Wren’s smile widened further.
“I am looking forward to seeing Enlight. I have heard so many stories. Castien promised me a grand tour.”
Castien’s throat grew tight. They hadn’t spoken of their plans for once the semester was over.
At least, not in an official capacity. To hear her speak with excitement about visiting his home …
it made his heart ache with love for her.
Wren looked over at him. More than likely she felt everything he did.
“And what about your royal wedding? Should I expect my Eventide to be filled with planning the most magnificent celebration in all the Seven Havens?” Finn asked.
Wren did not grow shy as Kierana had. Instead, she giggled. Castien could not keep his eyes off of her. He feared he was dreaming. If he was, he hoped with all he had that he would never wake.
“I should think that Castien’s mother, the empress, will want some say in that.” Wren turned her beautiful smile upon Castien. For a moment, his pain dissipated to a dull ache instead of a sharp jab. “For now, I am content to learn all that I can about the Lucent Enclave.”
“We will have to visit the Wild Holm, too,” Castien said as he ran his thumb over her gloved hand. “To tell your family the news, and so you can show me your home. I want to see your favorite meadow and the lily pond. The tavern, the market, all of it.”
“Of course, but that is no longer my home.” Wren gave him a meaningful look. “My home is with you.” She turned toward their friends. “All of you.”
Kierana looked taken aback, and her eyes grew misty. Eindar dipped his chin.
“Tides, Wren, you can’t say things like that,” Finn laughed. He swiped a tear from his face. “You’re liable to break all of us.”
Castien agreed with Finn, though he could not form the words to say as much.
He met Wren’s soft gaze. She picked up their clasped hands and kissed the back of his.
Castien knew she could feel everything he did.
He was immensely grateful she could. It ensured that he didn’t have to speak for her to understand how deeply he loved her.
His storyteller. His dearest Wren. His future empress.
The queen of his heart, and the other half of his soul.
She had walked through the darkest of times.
Swam in an ocean of grief. Faced down monsters.
Looked death itself in the eyes. And here she sat, clothed in light, offering love to those around her in spite of how she had been taken advantage of in the past.
It was at that moment that Castien knew he’d be able to carry on. He had lost much. He felt the pain of grief like an ever-present knife in his chest. But he had Wren, too. Castien glanced around the table. And his friends. They would make it through. Together.
He wouldn’t heal right away. Perhaps it would take years. That was okay, though. He squeezed Wren’s hand.
They had forever.