Chapter 14
By the time Anelize stepped out of the stables, the sound of voices in the common room filled the tavern. Steering clear of any curious eyes, Anelize quickly wandered up the steps to the third floor.
She stopped when she reached the landing and heard children murmuring from around the corner to her right.
Followed by the sound of a deep, yet soft spoken voice.
Curious, she followed the sounds until she spotted an opened doorway that led into a room.
Five small children of varying ages sat on the floor, surrounding Castian as he read from a book on his lap.
Leaning against the doorway, she crossed her arms and listened.
He told them a tale of mythical creatures she knew of from her childhood.
Ones of the Jidovi, the kind giants that were often mistaken for mountains amongst the Salistane Peaks.
And the iele, mischievous spirits that enchanted wanderers under the cover of night, luring them through their honey-sweet songs into the forest. Painting illusions that stemmed from their deepest desires as they danced the night away.
Only for the wanderers to awaken saddened once they realized they’d merely wandered off in their sleep.
The prince’s pallid complexion was replaced by his bright eyes, his joy unmistakable as he noticed the children were enraptured by his storytelling. He made silly faces and morphed his voice into different cadences. When he made a particularly absurd face, the children all started to laugh.
Luca, the one who sat the closest to Castian, said, “Tell us another one!”
“Another one? But I just told you the fifth one tonight,” Castian mused.
“Another one, Cas. Please!” the children around him chimed, a few rushing over to climb onto his shoulders.
Castian laughed, nothing but warmth in his voice.
He glanced over the children surrounding him before his eyes met hers, before his cheeks gained a slight pink tinge.
He cleared his throat as he closed the book and got to his feet.
Leaving with the promise to find them another story to read them, he slowly stepped out into the hall despite the children’s protests.
“Hello, Miss Yarrow. Are you well?” he asked when he joined her in the hall.
“Anya is fine.” When he frowned, she clarified, “You can call me Anya. Everyone does.”
The prince smiled. “Anya it is, then. I heard you were training all day in the stables with Adan. I take it you two managed to come to an understanding after last night?”
She gave him a flat smile. “I don’t believe that is the word I would use to describe what transpired between us. I’m sure Adan wouldn’t mind if someone else took up the responsibility of teaching me.”
They wandered down the hall to where she spotted another set of doors on either side. Slowing in her stride, she noted that there was a slight limp in the prince’s gait.
Not noticing where her attention had wandered as she glanced back up at him, Castian said, “I’m sure Idris wouldn’t mind teaching you.
I’m sure he’d love the opportunity to take on a pupil, anyone to corrupt with his ways.
As for Adan, I wouldn’t take it to heart.
We all have our reasons for worrying about the stakes at play, some more than others. ”
“I wish I had your confidence,” she said, surprised by the prince’s sage words. “Have you…known them long?”
Castian paused and turned to face her. He was surprisingly tall, lithe for his age, as if he had practiced all his life to present himself with poise. Every bit a noble. But the usual condescension she’d witnessed from the nobility within the upper districts was nowhere to be found upon him.
“They were lower ranked guards, until they were conferred titles of Watchmen by Aeric, once be became captain. I’m sure you can guess why that is by now.
Then they became my escorts during my time within the castle for a few years until we all found ourselves here.
Somehow, I managed to leave the walls of the castle, only to end up behind the walls of this tavern, all for the sake of being safe, if stagnant. ”
She watched him as a serene sort of sadness came over him, leaving her to wonder what he must have been through to end up amongst Vedrans and rebels.
A few children poked their heads out from another opened doorway curiously before ducking back inside. As they passed, Anelize saw them climbing into bunks tucked snugly together. Curling up beneath the covers as one of the older children urged them off to bed.
“How long have you been staying with the Dobrins?”
Castian seemed to contemplate it before he said, “Quite some time, possibly over a fortnight. Yes, that seems about right. I lost track of time for a period after I arrived. I wasn’t exactly at my best what with this ailment I have.
” They reached a door at the end of the hall and he opened it before turning to face her.
“Would you care to join me for tea perhaps?”
Anelize hesitated. She did not know why she was talking to the son of the man who was responsible for taking her sister away and countless deaths, but she was wise enough to know that he was also not at fault for King Amaranth’s wrongdoings. Lest he also believe them to be true.
His gentle smile appeared to tell her otherwise.
“Very well.” She nodded, and Castian’s smile brightened.
He pushed the door open and strode into his room.
The wallpaper and oak floors were nearly the same as the room where the orphans were staying, only there were at least dozens of books on the floor around the legs of the bed across the room.
Atop the dresser, bookshelves, and the table beside his bed.
If there was one thing the prince appeared to enjoy, it was books. The curtains were tied back to reveal the falling snow painting the glass as they fell across the darkened sky. There were candles lit across the room, casting an inviting glow around them.
“Apologies for the mess.” Castian cleared away his books on the round table. “I didn’t account for a visitor today. The only one who truly comes to my room is Aeric, and he’s an even bigger mess than I am.”
The last thing she wanted was to imagine what Aeric’s room looked like, or her standing in it, alone with him. She mentally cursed herself for even thinking about it now.
Stepping into the room, she looked to the small vials on the table and picked one up. Pulling the cork free, she took a whiff of it and grimaced.
“Zara gave me those. She told me they would help with any pains I’ve been feeling.
Though, in truth, they taste quite awful.
” Castian chuckled as he placed a pot over the small grate in the fireplace.
His movements careful and diligent. He swiped two cups from one of the shelves with the least number of books and brought them over to the table.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what illness was it that you were diagnosed with having?
” When he glanced at her curiously, she explained further, “I was an apothecary in my father’s shop before…
all this. I may be able to concoct a better suited tonic for you.
Please refrain from telling Zara I said that. ”
Castian grinned before it wilted into quiet contemplation.
“I wish I could tell you. Not even I know, and I am the one most affected by it. The royal physician hardly seemed to know either. All I know is that I began feeling unusually fatigued, then it became difficult to eat properly without being overcome with sick, and one day…I felt the strength completely leave me. My hands trembled and my legs were nearly useless. At times, Aeric needed to support me. Other times, carry me. Near the end of my stay in Castle Rime, he practically had to haul me around like a doll. I was all but useless.”
Anelize frowned at the mention of his symptoms. She had heard of chronic pains and other strange illnesses that were difficult to cure, but never one such as this.
Indeed, as she watched him closely, she could see that he used his left hand more than his right.
His fingers trembling slightly as he set their cups down on the table.
The shadows of fatigue under his eyes growing the longer he spent walking about the room.
When he finally sank into his chair across from her, she caught the way he breathed out a sigh of relief.
“May I?” she asked, reaching for his right hand. Castian hesitated, clearly taken aback by her boldness. She could almost hear her father chastising her for it. “If you would grant your permission, of course.”
Castian eventually nodded and placed his hand upon hers.
His palm was soft, unmarred by years of labor or scars from conjuring.
She assessed his mobility, found that he could not feel his last three fingers where she prodded.
Numbed down to the knuckles. Castian explained it was the same for his left leg, though it was nowhere near as bad as his hand.
The pain in his bones coming and going at the most unexpected times.
“I can come up with a series of treatments, remedies to take with your tea to at least mask the foul taste of the herbs, if you wish. We can see which will give the best results then.”
“I would appreciate that greatly. Anything to help me regain my strength so that I may once again feel like myself.”
She contemplated her next words before she eventually said, “I understand that you are ill, but what I do not fully comprehend is why you are here, Prince Castian.”