Chapter Four
T rue to his word, Gray lets himself into my room and yanks the covers off me at first light.
I string together a creative line of unkind words and throw a pillow at him.
Ultimately, however, I peel myself out of bed, attend to my needs, and dress myself.
By the time I’m finished—now dressed in a thinly woven sweater and breeches, since the Rivara Kingdom currently sits in the in-between of summer and autumn—I’m fully ready for whatever it is Gray has planned.
Wearing a sand-colored tunic paired with a brown vest, gold stitching weaving down the center along the seams, Gray’s brown hair is half-drawn, and he has his leather satchel strapped across his chest. He pushes off the wall outside my chamber and flashes me a grin, extending his hand, offering me a pewter cup. “For you.”
The aromatic smell of citrus and cinnamon fills the air, and I immediately recognize the sweet scent as I inhale the steam.
It’s my favorite tea.
My tongue salivates. “Thank you.” I take the cup from his hand and blow on the scalding liquid. “So what is it you have planned for us today?”
“Oh,” he lilts through a smile. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
I arch a brow at him as I sip on the tea.
He just smiles wider in response.
“Can I at least get a hint?”
Gray cocks his head, thinking. “Alright,” he says after a moment. “ We’ll need to pay a visit to the stables first.”
My eyes narrow on him. “The stables? So we need horses?”
His growing smirk is his only answer.
I’m about to point out that we’re not supposed to just take the horses when a memory strikes me.
Tell the stablemaster to expect a summons from me later .
I shove my cup back in Gray’s hands. “Give me two more minutes.”
When those minutes pass and I return from rummaging around in my room, Gray watches me with an inquisitive expression pinching his face.
He lifts a brow. “Do I even want to ask?”
I adjust the pack on my back, looking through it a final time, making sure I have everything. “You’ll find out soon enough,” I mutter, trailing behind Gray as we walk down the corridor.
We reach the stables, and I see the errand boy that ran in during The Founding mucking out a stall near the front.
“Hi, Thestis.” Gray walks over to the stall the boy is working on and rests his hands and chin atop the thick wooden planks. “How’s your training going?”
The boy halts mid scoop and slowly swivels his head in Gray’s direction. His eyes brighten with excitement, and he drops the shovel as he scurries over toward Gray, propping himself atop a hay bale to be at eye level. “Is it true you’re going to be a Jurafen?” He asks, his voice rattling with awe.
Gray chuckles. “It is true I’m going to try.”
The boy’s eyes grow round as the moon. “Wow,” he breathes. “That is so cool.”
Gray lifts his chin from the stalls and ruffles the boy’s hair. “If you keep your training up, you might become a Jurafen someday, too.”
Two expressions pass simultaneously across the boy’s face.
The first is one of dreams and hope, but then the second expression washes over his features like a tidal wave sweeping loose sand from a shore.
His face falls, and he pouts his lip. “My ‘Ma told me I shouldn’t hold on to such silly hopes. She said everyone knows only nobles or those from exceptional bloodlines like yours get to become Jurafen. No one like me has ever become a Jurafen before.” He pauses, pulling a lone straw of hay from the bale.
The boy—Thestis, Gray had called him—grumbles, “She thinks it’s nice you train me in your free time, but she also thinks it’s a waste of time. ”
Gray trains him?
I didn’t even know that. Though, it at least explains how he seems to know the boy so intimately.
Gray’s eyes soften. With his hand still resting atop the boy’s head, he replies, “Do you know the tale of the first Rivarian King, Isaphus?”
Eyes now glued to the ground, the boy nods.
Gray’s smile is kind. “Good,” he says. “Then it will come as no shock to you when I say Isaphus was nothing special. He was not a noble. He did not hail from any exceptional bloodlines. He was just a simple man who was good and true, who worked hard to provide for his people.”
“What’s your point?” Thestis mutters.
Gray tilts the boy’s head back, forcing him to meet his eyes.
“My point,” he muses with a gentle yet sturdy tone—one that reminds me of Azalea, “is that if Isaphus told people when he was your age he would become the first king of a newly founded kingdom, people would have laughed at him and told him there was no chance in…” Gray glances left then right, lowering his voice to a dramatic whisper. “ Hell .”
The boy snickers, and Gray smiles.
“Though what your mother says is true about the current state of Jurafen, that is not to say you couldn’t be the first to break the mold. The exams are open to everyone for a reason. And if you work hard, Thestis, I am confident you can be whatever you want to be in this world.”
The boy flicks his eyes at me, and I have to force a smile to my lips.
The truth is, I can’t in good conscience say I buy into what Gray is saying—even though I know he truly believes it. But I fear I am too jaded to believe in fairytales and happy endings.
The stablemaster appears from the back of the stables, limping over to us. “Well, what a pleasant sight for these old eyes.” His stark-white hair is half-drawn, and his bushy white eyebrows are as overgrown as ever.
I eye his movements closely and, just as I anticipated, they are incredibly stiff and rigid.
The stablemaster, Delroy, addresses the boy. “Thestis, why don’t you take that bucket there and fetch the horses some fresh drinking water.”
Thestis jumps down from the hay bale, scuttling over to the bucket. “Yessir.” He pauses, glancing over his shoulder at Gray. “Thank you,” he murmurs.
Gray dips his chin at Thestis, his eyes warm and kind, and then Thestis scurries out of the stables to fetch water, leaving just Delroy, Gray, and myself.
“The stables seem to be in excellent condition considering there was a fire only a few days ago,” I observe with a mild tone.
Delroy grunts his agreement. “It would seem hay bales were left in front of the stables, and a lantern was left atop of them, catching the straw on fire. The water-wielders were able to put it out before the flames could cause too much damage.”
“How convenient,” I mumble, finding that odd.
Delroy hobbles to a nearby stool and eases himself down. Taking that as my opportunity, I slide the pack off my shoulders and rummage through it, collecting what I’ll need.
“Did my father make the necessary arrangements for us to take the horses?” Gray asks.
“He did,” Delroy answers. “I have two horses tied up out back, saddled and ready to go for your journey.”
Gray inclines his head. “Thank you, sir.”
I grab the final item—a tin container—and rise.
“Before we go,” I say, turning to Delroy.
I soften my voice, but make sure to keep my expression steady, not allowing any signs of pity to leak through.
I know Delroy would hate that. He is a good man, but he is also a proud man.
“Would you let me take a look at your back?”
Delroy stiffens. “Why do you ask?”
“I was in the Great Hall when Thestis ran in, and I heard the king mention summoning you.” I don’t bother mincing words with Delory—he hates that, too. “You and I both know I am all too familiar with what those words imply.”
Delroy releases a drawn out sigh. I glance over at Gray, who now has a wrinkle in his brow.
Gray knows about some of the nights where I received my own summons for doing something that displeased the king. But he certainly doesn’t know about all of them, or about how demoralizing they could become—how painful.
It would have broken his heart. And I couldn’t stand to watch someone as pure and good as Gray be broken.
“Very well,” Delroy murmurs. I walk over to him, and as soon as my fingers graze the threads of his tunic, he adds in a low voice, “Please, be gentle.”
Understanding settles deep in my chest, my heart squeezing with it.
“I will,” I assure him.
When I lift his shirt, I have to fight against the hiss threatening to blow through my teeth. His back is…well, it is a mess, to say the least.
Sensing my reaction, Delroy supplies, “King Alastair found my inability to watch over the stables particularly disappointing, but not as disappointing as the interruption to The Founding it caused. He said I forced a great deal of embarrassment upon him, and that I was lucky to be keeping my toes.”
My stomach churns with disgust. “You’ve watched over these stables for many years without fail. The king is cruel, and you should ignore him.”
Delroy huffs an amused laugh. “Careful who you speak such words to, Lyra. Cruel he may be, but he is still a king.”
I click my tongue. “This will hurt a little.”
“That’s alright. I may be old, but I am not frail.”
The corner of my lips tugs with a smile.
I first reach for the vial containing a strong antiseptic I had previously made.
I pop off the top, and I douse Delroy’s skin with it.
He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, but past that, Delroy remains silent.
I let the solution bubble on his back before next applying a healing salve.
I screw the lid off the tin container, and I swipe two fingers into the balm.
As gently as I possibly can, I swipe the salve along the oozing lacerations across his back.
After I finish, I dress his wounds in clean linen bandages, thankfully already infused with fresh lavender.
“He wouldn’t let you see a healer?” I ask as I finish up.
Delroy shakes his head. “I was to be reminded of my incompetence so that it may not happen again.”
I fight the urge to spit on the ground at the words. Instead, I reach for the dark brown glass bottle filled with a deep amber liquid. It is my own personal supply, used to help ease the pain from wounds inflicted onto me. “Hold out your tongue,” I instruct Delroy.
I walk around to face him, finding his brows deeply furrowed.“I know you are quite skilled like your mother was, and please know I trust you implicitly, but do you mind telling me what you are about to make me ingest?”
I huff a laugh, amused. “It is a willow bark tincture I made for myself. I’ll only release a few drops onto your tongue. It’ll help ease your pain.”
Delroy nods and does as I ask, sticking out his tongue.
I pull the dropper from the bottle, and I squeeze a few droplets from the tip.
“There,” I say, finished. “That should help ease some of your discomfort for a while. I’ll come find you in the morning to re-dress your wounds and give you more of the tincture if you’re still in pain. ”
Delroy’s pale-blue eyes soften as a smile spreads across his face. “You take after your mother more than you know.”
Tiny needles prick my heart at the words. Still, I smile in response, and collect all my supplies, placing them back in my pack.
Gray kneels down next to me and whispers, “So that’s what you went back to your chambers for?”
I nod.
He places a hand on my cheek, sweeping his thumb across my skin, studying me for a brief moment before rising and turning to Delroy. “Is there anything I can help you with before we depart with the horses?”
Delroy lifts himself from the stool and waves Gray off. “I have Thestis helping me attend to the stables today. He’s a good boy, that one.”
“He is,” Gray agrees. “And quite talented.”
Delroy nods his head slowly, as if with contemplation. After a brief passing silence, he says, “You two better get on your way. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
When I stand, slinging the pack over my shoulders, I face Delroy, who reaches for my hands and cups them between his own. “Thank you, my girl. You do your mother’s legacy justice.”
The words strike me like an arrow to my heart. I release a shaky breath and steady myself, plastering a warm smile to my lips. I squeeze Delroy’s hands. “Thank you. Like I said, I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow.”
Delroy dips his chin. “Go,” he instructs. “Best not dilly-dally any longer.”