Chapter 22
I could no longer maintain that impassive face.
I blinked once, twice. Then blinked at Aegir for a third and fourth time.
Aegir chuckled. “They say you’ll never forget the first witness of a shift.”
I was looking at him, confusion clearly written all over my face, yet I still found the need to say it out loud. “I don’t understand.”
“Some Fae have the ability to shift into a particular animal form. Eldric can shift into a great eagle and back into his Fae form as he wills it.”
“Yes, I—I heard about that. But what about your important confidential dinner meeting?” My words came out hushed. He took a few steps towards me. I glimpsed the bob of his throat, giving me the urge to swallow.
“He realised that you had eaten from my plate, didn’t he?
It is my fault that your face is bruised and your belly is empty.
” I blushed at the fact that he said my plate and not my tray.
“What? Did you really think that I wouldn’t notice those little bite marks peeking just above my own?
They felt so small against my tongue.” His words and their accompanying sly tone had me lowering my flushed cheeks.
“But the fact remains that it was my fault, I fell terribly short and—”
“No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have eaten while you were in the bathing chamber.”
It was going so well and I ruined everything.
“No, you don’t understand, I—I could have prevented it. I could have locked the door, but instead, I left it open. I thought of it as a subtle gesture of trust towards the king and his people. I should have locked it.”
“How could you have? That door doesn’t lock. I should have waited for you.”
Aegir gave me a subtle, shameful smile and moved towards the door.
He grabbed hold of the handle and I glimpsed what looked like a bluish-white net forming around it.
Then it gradually disappeared. Fingertips still at the handle, Aegir looked my way and said, “Nobody can come in unless I allow them to. I should have locked it. I didn’t lock it before because I had nothing to hide, but when I did, I didn’t lock it either.
You warned me. You said that it came with risks and I took your words lightly. I must admit, I feel…embarrassed.”
Him—the Ice Prince—embarrassed?
I realised then why the creepy thief on our journey to the market couldn’t open the carriage door. And the multiple mentions of securing the weapons.
Aegir moved towards me, stopping a few short steps away, then lifted both of his arms in the air.
My head followed his movement. A similar net formed at the ceiling’s centre.
It grew around us—a blanket that expanded and spread like wildfire, making the walls reflect with moving streams, just like when the sun reflects over clear water.
The net disappeared all at once. “There. Now no one can hear us either.”
My lips parted in a gape. I had heard of the Fae having magical abilities, but I never thought about the specifics. I always assumed they had something to do with fighting and killing, such as being able to form an ice spear from water. This was a different kind of power.
“Please, sit,” Aegir said, gesturing to the chair behind me. I remained unmoved, staring at him. “Have dinner with me.” It was not a demand but it was not a question either.
“I—what about the meeting?”
“We held it already. Now, will you have dinner with me?” He sat, taking the chair beside the one he had pointed at earlier. I was hoping, wishing, for a couple of quick stolen bites, but not this, nothing like this.
“But I mustn’t…if I get caught, I’ll—”
“You promised me that you wouldn’t say a word, and I promised you the same. I assure you, he won’t find out.”
Despite my hesitation, I found myself replying, “Very well, then,” and finally agreed to sit.
But as soon as my hind end met the chair, I was instantly on my feet, remembering that I was the servant here.
But Aegir rose to his at the same time and said, “Please, allow me.” He gestured once more to my seat.
I didn’t argue with him.
He poured us each a glass of red wine, followed by a glass of water.
Then he gave us each a bowl of soup, placing the bread within our reach.
My belly growled in impatient anticipation.
I expected Aegir to snicker at the sound.
He didn’t. If anything, he appeared rather displeased by it.
Because yes, the noise was funny, but the reason behind it was nothing of the sort.
I reached for the wine glass. My eyes widened at its smooth taste. This was delicious! It was much better than the ale I drank at Dunehaven. For some reason, Aegir found my expression amusing as I glimpsed him looking at me, lips smirking.
My spoon was full, but I waited for him to start eating before doing so myself. I had to make an effort not to moan as I consumed spoonful after spoonful, then mopped the bowl clean with bread.
“Tell me something about yourself,” he said, and I almost stiffened.
“There isn’t much to talk about really.”
“Oh, come on, there must be something. Tell me something like…which part of Ramel did you grow up in? Are you from Sharlam?”
I swore that his words felt like a dagger being pushed through my heart. What a lovely question. How many times had I wondered about that? Sand Priestess Selmira and stableman Martin told me that I was found on the outskirts of Kalnar, but my origins were never confirmed.
“I lived in Kalnar, at the Orphanage of Dunes for several years, and then, when…when I came of age, I was allowed to live in the castle to work as a servant in the east wing.”
His features and his voice softened when he asked me what no one else had ever dared to. “What happened to your parents?” I was stunned for a while. Perhaps it was because I very rarely spoke of them—I never spoke of them, whoever they were.
“There was an accident. They both passed; I…I survived.” Truth. But one that kept my deepest and most shameful secret hidden. I survived. But my memories didn’t.
“I’m sorry they passed.” His eyes remained softened, but then, to my surprise, his lips curved up, showing the start of a smile. Then he said, “I should have definitely started with a different first question.”
“It’s not your fault,” I replied quietly.
“So, you’re from Kalnar, then. That’s west of here, right?”
“Yes, two days’ ride west. Do you want to see it?”
“You want to go back there?”
I let out a small chuckle. “No, I mean from up here. Come, I’ll show you.”
I moved towards the window and Aegir followed.
I leaned forward, my belly grazing the blemished sill, and I eased the window open a little farther.
I was both surprised and displeased at myself for never noticing how breathtaking the view was from up here at this hour.
The sky turned to gloam as the sun gracefully set behind everything else, behind the dunes.
A blend of red, orange, and yellow painted the purple sky.
I pointed out the window. “There, right there. Do you see that tower? It looks like it’s emerging from in between those two big dunes.”
He leaned himself out, his right hand resting on the windowsill; he placed the other on my lower back.
My skin came to life at his light touch, like a moonflower unfurling its delicate petals at the moonlight’s embrace.
I still remembered how it had felt—when he’d placed his hands on my waist and my back when we danced in Dunehaven.
And how he held me from around my belly for long hours on our ride back.
But this—his palm on the naked skin of my back—was too much.
I tried to appear as nonchalant as physically possible.
“Yes, I see it,” he replied.
“That is the high tower of Kalnar. The Orphanage of Dunes is right behind it.”
He dipped his head and looked at me with what appeared to be a very warm smile. His eyes, I noticed, seemed greener than usual, being so close to his green tunic.
“I’m glad you survived.”
His soft words fell over me like a gentle caress, but I could only bring myself to nod, my lips pursed, then continued gazing at the tower. I could not always say the same—I admit that there were some hard days when I wished I had joined them. Others, when I thought about finally lifting that tile.
Aegir pointed at the high tower—no, not at the tower, but at the invisible orphanage behind it—and said, “So, I’m very curious now, was it right there where you became this clever, or was it where you became this cruel?”
I suppressed the start of a smile and snapped my head towards him, narrowing my eyes.
I swore that not one word faltered as I asked him rather too quickly, “Why do you ask? Oh, let me guess, is it perhaps because you’re interested in visiting, to give a guest teaching yourself?
‘Endless ways to become a brute,’ you would call it. ”
He barked out a belly laugh, his hand leaving my back. Finally. My skin was impetuously embracing the combination of warmth and cool. I either needed more of that or nothing at all.
“I attended the teachings every day; that may have made me both clever and cruel,” I added, looking at him over the top of my nose.
“Good for me, then. Did you…enjoy your time there?”
Oh, never mind—now that he’d placed his hand on the small of my back once more, I decided that I’d rather he kept it there than nothing at all.
“I cannot say I hated it. Sand Priestess Selmira became the closest thing I had to a mother. I enjoyed my time with her, and after the teachings, I spent most of my afternoons at the stable, playing with the horses and reading.”
“You had horses there as well?”
“Mmhmm. Linda, a sweetheart, and Nutmeg, secretly a sweetheart.”
“And so you spent your time reading and taking care of the horses. Why am I not surprised?” We both chuckled at that. “You didn’t get along well with the other children?”