13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
I f Asheros hoped delaying communication with Viridian until morning would lessen my resolve, then he’d better be prepared for disappointment.
Rather, the opposite is true. Waiting has only lent itself to the firmness of my decision to warn Viridian and Cryssa of the Gold Court’s plans. It’s been more than a week since the attack at Nemos’s pass. At this point, had I stayed on course, I would just be arriving at Illnamoor, if I hadn’t already a few days earlier.
Moving from my bed to the window, I peer at the sunrise peeking over the treetops, coloring the sky a bright honey that gives way to cerulean. The beautiful, intermingling shades splayed across the horizon lessen the tension in my shoulders, lowering them slightly. Crossing the room to the dresser, where I laid out my leathers before going to bed last night, I put them on, fastening the buckles to secure them to my body.
Catching a whiff of them when I do, I wrinkle my nose. I’ll need to wash these soon. As part of my training for the Guard, we learned how to care for them properly so they last.
I brush my hair back and run my fingers through it to work out the tangles. My sleek, blue-black mane has lost some of its luster, likely from being on the road for as long as we have, though it’s still smooth and easy to detangle. Separating it into three groups, I quickly weave my hair into a braid that falls over my left shoulder.
Taking a breath to still myself, I carefully open my chamber door and step into the hallway. The manor is dark, the corridor lit by the sunlight cast through the slim window at the end of the hall. Stepping lightly, I make my way down the staircase, but pause before entering the sitting room.
Kheldryn sits in one of the armchairs with her legs crossed. She leans over the chair’s arm, an open book resting in her lap. “You can come in,” she calls, without adjusting her posture, voice raised so I can hear.
“All right,” I say by way of announcing my entrance.
She moves only to turn the page, still focused on her book.
I wander toward the bookshelves, my arms hanging loosely by my sides. Reading had been a passion of mine years ago, before I left for High Keep. Even then, I didn’t read much for pleasure. Most of my reading was selected by my mother or my tutors. Boring, bland material on Inatian history, treatises on alliances between the Noble Houses, that sort of thing.
But once I joined the Guard, I didn’t have the time, nor the patience, for reading. I can’t remember the last time I picked up a book. It feels foreign to me now.
“Orim’s mother is an avid reader,” Kheldryn says, and my attention snaps to her. “Any genre you could imagine is somewhere on those shelves. There’s even more in her personal library.” She straightens her back, holding up the book she’s reading. “That’s where I found this one.”
I raise my brow. “She won’t be angry about that?”
“She won’t know.” Kheldryn’s eyes briefly meet mine and then she turns the page.
I press my lips together, the corner of my mouth tilted upward. “Of course.”
Crossing my arms, I turn away from her. The image of Asheros brushing her hair at dinner last night flashes before my eyes, sparking a tight pang in my chest.
“You and Asheros seem close,” I say, unable to stop myself. If I had a clearer head, I would have kept those words to myself. They’ll only lead me to answers I won’t like and things I don’t want to hear. What do I care if they’re together? Though he’s my fated, I have no claim on him.
No claim at all .
That thought should soothe the jealousy coursing through me. But it only adds kindling to the spark in my chest, making it catch fire.
“Yes,” Kheldryn says, her voice softening. She looks up at me. “We all are.”
“I know but—” I pause, stopping myself from saying something that might come across as abrasive. “You two seem… closer than most.”
Kheldryn furrows her brows, and then her expression relaxes, awash with understanding. She sets the book down on her lap. “You think we’re together.”
Jitters replace the fiery pang in my chest, dancing across my skin. “You’re not?”
“No, most definitely not,” Kheldryn tells me, shaking her head. Her silvery-white hair swings with the movement, touching her cheeks. “I, uh—I’m not interested in males.”
My eyes widen, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Oh, my apologies for assuming.”
“It’s all right,” she assures me, waving a hand. “You couldn’t have known.”
There’s a pause where neither of us says anything. Then Kheldryn closes her book and presses it to her chest. “My parents died when I was very young, my mother from disease, and my father from falling through ice. He harvested it for a living, you see, and there was plenty to be harvested up north where I lived by the Silent Chasm in a small village just outside of Morir. ”
The Silent Chasm lies on the Silver Court’s northern border, large sharp cliffs broken up by fjords from what I’ve heard. I’ve never seen them myself. With the exception of Dalir, Morir is the northernmost city on mainland Inatia.
I orient myself toward Kheldryn, tilting my head forward slightly.
Taking a breath, she continues. “After that, I was on my own for a while. I learned to shoot so I could hunt game for food. It was difficult at first, but I eventually got good at it.”
“I imagine you would,” I say, my voice soft. “You were dependent on your skills for survival.”
She nods, eyes flicking to mine. “Right. Anyway, I was out hunting in the mountains one day when I was overrun by an avalanche.” Her expression constricts, mouth tight. “The mountains that far north are rocky and difficult to cross. I couldn’t get far enough in time.”
My mouth parts. “I take it Valhyr’s Teeth are aptly named?”
Stories of Valhyr, the God of Honor and Glory, describe his favor of struggle, of challenge, of pushing oneself to the point of breaking for the sake of glory. Whoever named the Silver Court’s broken, jagged, and unforgiving mountain range had no doubt been thinking of the god’s love of testing and exceeding the limits of a hero’s strength.
“Yes,” Kheldryn says. “To be quite honest, I have no idea why Asheros was out there that day. Perhaps Valhyr himself had taken pity on me. But he was there with a horse and pulled me from beneath the snow.” She wraps her arms around the book, still clutching it to her chest. “I don’t remember much, but the next thing I knew, I was in bed at an inn, with a warm meal, and an innkeeper’s wife that nursed me back to health.”
Asheros is a good male.
Something lightens in my chest, stirring feelings of pride within me.
My gaze falls to the floor. Perhaps the part of the sly, cunning, and indifferent fae lord that he plays is merely a fa?ade, protecting his true self underneath.
But if it is just an act, why go through the effort? What happened to him? What taught him to hide?
“He didn’t ask,” Kheldryn says, “but I pledged my service to him, nonetheless. He’d saved my life, and I vowed that day, I would save his, too, if it ever came to that. Only then, would my debt be paid.”
Her undying loyalty to her lord is evident in her tone, in the conviction underlying her words. I don’t need to ask her to know that she would remain loyal to Asheros, even after her so-called debt is paid. It reminds me of the Guards I once commanded in Keuron. Their belief in the crown—and in me, when I served as their Captain—shone through in every obeyed command and every salute to my position.
Gods, what I would give to be among their ranks once more.
“He is lucky to have you,” I say, my voice soft.
“I am lucky to have him,” she corrects me. “And you would be, too.”
My eyes land on her immediately, my face snapping down to hers.
“I see the way you two speak to each other,” she says, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “The way you look at him.”
Snorting, I say, “I only look at him when I must.”
Kheldryn raises a brow. “Oh, sure you do.” She glances at something in the hall and then back at me. “Have you ever wondered that, maybe in marking you two as fated, the gods weren’t telling you that he’s your enemy, but rather, that you and he would become something so much more?”
My stomach leaps into my throat, my body brimming with the possibility of what could be—if I’d only let it.
“I…” My voice trails off.
“You haven’t let yourself,” Kheldryn remarks with a knowing look. “But maybe you should. Mate bonds are something to be treasured, not rejected.”
“Not all of us have the luxury of accepting a mate bond,” I tell her, fumbling for something to use in my defense. “Though we might want to.”
As if she’s won whatever game we’re playing, Kheldryn makes a pleased face.
I open my mouth to counter her wordless statement but pause when I hear a male’s voice beside me.
“I should have known you’d be up early, Bladesinger.”
Tilting my head back, I press my eyes shut when the realization we had an audience for the last part of our conversation washes over me. Knowing full well that my fated won’t let this go undiscussed, the burn of my mistake sizzles in my lower abdomen.
Opening my eyes, I turn my face to Asheros who is standing beside me with his hands casually resting in his pockets. His medium-length, white-blond hair is mussed in silky layers, as if he’d brushed it back off his face with his fingers. He wears a loose-fitting cream-colored shirt, the top unbuttoned and the bottom untucked, and a silvery-blue vest that’s generously fitted to his torso. His form fitting pants are a darker shade of blue, like that of the sky come midnight.
Savell enters the sitting room behind him.
“Truly, I’m surprised you didn’t come wake me.” Asheros grins wickedly, diamond eyes meeting my own.
“Luckily for you,” I tell him, crossing my arms, “I’m in the mood to be gracious this morning.”
His expression darkens, stoking the embers deep within my core. “How lucky for me, indeed.”
Tightening my arms across my chest, I avert my gaze. This male will be the death of me, I’m sure of it.
“Orim’s in the kitchen preparing breakfast,” Asheros says, tone matter-of-fact. “In the meantime, you and I will send a message to His Majesty.”
“And Her Majesty,” I add, emphasizing Cryssa’s title.
“Of course.” Asheros nods. “Both of Their Majesties.”
“Good.” I gesture in front of me, encouraging him to get on with it. “Let’s not waste time. ”
“Savell,” Asheros says, glancing back at the male. “The mirror, if you would.”
“I can’t believe you’re actually going through with this,” Savell grumbles, glaring at him.
Asheros doesn’t miss a beat. “Then you’d better start believing.”
Forcing an exhale, Savell slips from the sitting room.
“A mirror?” I ask, incredulity bleeding through my voice. “How in the gods’ names is a mirror going to help with this?”
“Patience, Bladesinger,” Asheros muses, sending a smirk my way. “All will be revealed.”
Still glowering, Savell returns with long strides and brings Asheros a silver, handheld mirror.
“Thank you,” Asheros tells him, taking the mirror. To me, he says, “As you know, each of the metals in Inatia have magical properties used for spellcasting.”
“Of course,” I shoot out. “All noble fae do.”
Bronze metal is used for elemental manipulation. Those who wield it can bend fire, water, air, and even the earth to their will. Gold is the conduit for summoning, whether that be a magical familiar, an entity of great power, or even spirits to do one’s bidding. Copper is used for alchemy, a vessel for formulating magical potions and tonics, often used for healing. Those who are attuned to steel, like my sister Vestella, can transform the world around them. For example, changing inanimate objects into animals, or a person’s physical attributes. Silver, as Asheros himself has demonstrated by using his shadows, is for conjuring.
“Then you know that silver metal allows for conjuring.” Holding up the handheld mirror, he says, “Using this, we can conjure a connection between you and the individual you wish to see.”
Placing my hands on my hips, I cock my head. “What’s the drawback? Every spell has some kind of limitation.”
As if I beat him to that part of his explanation, Asheros presses his lips together. “The spell needs silver metal on both ends. In other words, a connection can only be conjured between two silver objects.”
When I don’t say anything, Asheros speaks again. “This is the fastest way to send your message. Unless you’d rather wait however long it takes for a messenger to reach Keuron.”
“No.” I let my hands wall from my waist. “Let’s try the spell, shall we?”
Asheros grins. “We shall. Luckily for us, the spell will locate the closest silver object to your desired recipient to conjure the connection.”
“All right,” I say, nodding. “What do I need to do?”
“Nothing,” Asheros says. “I’ll do the spell for you. All you need to do is speak to Viridian once the connection is made.”
Straightening my back, I take a breath.
Standing directly before me, Asheros holds the mirror out in front of him so the reflective side faces me. I adjust my position, lining my face up with the center of the mirror.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
“Ready,” I tell him.