Chapter 19 Wren
Ifinish up with Runara, grab lunch in the kitchens, and head outside to enjoy the fresh air. I’ve missed my chance to go for a ride today, although I’m still hopeful to go to the Rosey Duckling tonight and meet with Zephyr.
I wander the halls for a while, admiring the way the afternoon sun filters through the stained-glass windows.
A few servants pass me by with polite nods, and I pause to peek into the library, where someone’s left an open book and half a cup of tea still steaming.
I drift through the west wing next, running my fingers along the tapestries and glancing into empty parlours and music rooms. Eventually, I climb the spiral staircase up to the battlements, needing air more than company.
I find myself up on the parapet, overlooking the castle courtyard.
I’m most surprised to spot Cassiel below, sparring with Dain.
Dain’s far too soft with him. I want to yell at him to hit him harder, but I’m too far away—and it occurs to me that they’ve probably picked this spot because they didn’t want to be seen.
My mind crawls back to yesterday, to the way Cassiel bested me… and then touched my ears to check whether or not I was fey. He’d said it jokingly, but it wasn’t a joke to me.
For the most part, I’ve always disliked lying.
When I first came to the Moonhollow, it was what set me apart from the others, marked me as not like them.
Something to be distrusted. My grandma told me that my ability to lie was a weapon, but if it is, it’s double-edged amongst my kind.
They know I can lie, so they distrust everything.
When I lied to get into the palace, I found a satisfaction in it—particularly when lying to Captain Fellwood. I felt clever then. Like I was doing my people proud.
I don’t feel clever lying to Cassiel. I don’t like how the lies taste, how they squirm under my skin.
I hate the way he hates what I am even more. How he was smart enough that it crossed his mind. If he ever finds out…
It doesn’t matter, a voice reminds me. This is only a job. You are not supposed to care.
I repeat the words to myself in my head, but half-human or not, I know the shape of a lie.
Keep your distance, my grandmother would preach.
But Grandma isn’t here, and it’s hard to keep my distance when the first thing he does every morning is reach for me.
“An interesting way to spend your day off.”
I straighten. Prince Evander is at the top of the steps. I immediately start bowing. “Your Highness—”
“Please,” he says, walking towards me, “don’t trouble yourself. You seemed lost in thought.”
It’s not often someone manages to sneak up on me. Am I losing my edge? Going soft amongst the humans? Perhaps it’s just the wind not blowing in my favour and interfering with my ability to hear…
Evander comes to stand beside me. For a long moment, he says nothing. We stand next to each other, almost shoulder-to-shoulder, watching the sparring in the courtyard.
“Thank you,” he says, leaning towards me, just a fraction.
“For what?”
Evander smiles, not meeting my gaze. “For watching over my brother.”
“It’s what you pay me for.”
“Not today, it isn’t.”
“I’m just enjoying the weather.”
“Of course.”
Below us, Cassiel disarms Dain. He looks quite happy with himself, and even Dain looks surprised, though he was barely trying.
“Sometimes, all people need is a little push,” Evander remarks.
“Sometimes, people need to be shoved off a bloody cliff.”
Evander laughs.
“That,” he says, shaking his head, “is what I like about you.”
I arch a brow. “That I’m violent?”
“Forthright,” he says, much more tactfully. “You don’t suffer fools gladly.”
“I don’t suffer fools at all.”
“You’re funny, too. And honest.”
Honest. The bitter irony of finally being around people who think I’m trustworthy whilst I’m secretly spying on them is not lost on me. I’ve wanted people to say I was honest all of my life, to believe me, and now that they do…
You’re all fools, I want to say, but I take no pride in deceiving them.
I think, maybe, I’m the biggest fool of them all.
Evander’s gaze lingers on the courtyard below, where Cassiel is basking in his small victory. “He’s changing.”
“He was always capable of this,” I say. “He just needed to believe it.”
“He needed someone who refused to let him wallow.” Evander goes quiet for a moment. “We really tried, you know, when he was first injured. When it became clear that nothing the healers could do would fix him, we tried—”
“You don’t have to justify what you did or didn’t do to me—”
“I just… I want you to understand. How much we wanted to help him. How much it hurt us that we couldn’t.
We just had to watch him slipping further and further away from us…
and then you arrived, and suddenly he was arguing again and leaving his room and even fighting.
He’s… still not quite himself, but he’s more recognisable than he has been in months. ”
I don’t know how to respond to that. I shift my weight, glancing at the crown prince. I don’t want his praise, or his kindness. I also don’t want to tell him that Cassiel will never be like he was before, because no one ever is. We all change. We’re supposed to.
But who Cassiel is now… I quite like that person.
I don’t think I like myself very much.
Evander studies me now, rather than the courtyard. “I’m very grateful for you, Thornvale. We all are.”
I glance at him, but he says nothing more. Just clasps my shoulder briefly before walking away, leaving his words to settle like a shadow in the sunlit morning.