Wulf
Although years of hunting have taught me patience, it is not easy to wait until nightfall.
Yet when Aurefeld's barracks are finally rife with the sounds of snoring knights, and the star-filled tapestry of night at last drapes over Eidengrau, I move silently through the shadows toward the servants' entrance the crown prince used to sneak me out earlier.
Instead of stepping through the door, I remain close to the exterior wall of the castle. I make my way toward the wing assigned to the Isenmerian visitors.
Before I reach that wing, I pause in the shadows, listening to two Aurefeldan guards stationed nearby. Their chatter is quiet as they stand guard just around the last turn I must make.
"…cannot believe they invited every maiden in Aurefeld, even the commoners," one of them is saying. "How desperate must they be to see him take a wife, when the heir is still unwed?"
The other guard grunts, "I doubt they truly care if he marries, so long as he stops roaming the far reaches of this kingdom long enough to take an interest in someone.
The king's proud enough of the lad, but the queen is beside herself.
They say she's a whopping romantic—she's the daughter of the Faerie of Love's bishop over in Turnstadt, after all.
At this rate, I bet she would send offerings of thanks to all Thirteen Faeries no matter who the spare prince takes a shine to. "
I peer around the corner. The guards stand in their gold-and-white livery a stone's throw from me. One cleans his teeth with a frayed hazel twig, while the other uses a thin knife to whittle a comb.
"Well, that scamp is bound to find someone at such a grand festival," the first guard muses, tossing the hazel twig before speaking in an excited hush. "Tom, you've been here longer than me. Is it true they sometimes allow a magical display at the masquerade?"
Silently, I approach the inattentive guards.
"Indeed, they do," the whittler replies, blowing wood scrapings off the incomplete comb. "I've heard that to make this festival special, they've rounded up a piper who—"
Before he can finish, I raise my hands. The runes upon my arms alight, sending them both to sleep.
I catch both of them before they can make too much noise and lower them gingerly to the ground.
Though I myself wield no magic, using such permanent magical gifts would be enough to have me sent to the gallows in Aurefeld if I'm discovered.
But I care not for their ridiculous fears of magic. I only care about protecting Verena, as I have pledged to do—and because it has been far too many hours since I last laid eyes upon my beautiful vantaei.
Taking the thin knife from the unconscious whittler, I move on soundlessly, slipping through the servants' entrance of the Isenmerian wing.
Verena's door is, of course, locked when I reach it.
But I took special note of its type of lock earlier when I scouted her room before she went to meet with the royals and sent me to the barracks. Initially, I only noted the lock out of irritation, recognizing it as the sort that can be picked with a thin knife.
Now, I slide the whittler's tool into the lock. Working swiftly, I grit my teeth when the shackle of the lock releases with an audible click.
I pray to Eldrunia that did not wake her. I never want to frighten Verena again—and I have seen the pure dread on her face when she believes her safety has been compromised.
Heart pounding, I gently ease the heavy gold-painted door open until I can peer into the guest room set aside for the queen.
It is spacious, ornate, and filled with gilded things just like the rest of Aurefeld Castle. This kingdom's greed for fleeting finery is strange to me—but by far, the most precious thing in the dim guest room is Verena sleeping fitfully in the large bed.
She has left a candle flickering softly at the bedside. It casts a warm glow upon her furrowed brow, her hair in a long braid.
I shut the door silently behind me, taking another step forward.
"Took you long enough," Eris murmurs.
He watches from a gilded full-length mirror in the corner of the room as I move closer to the bed.
In the quiet of the room, Verena grumbles unintelligibly. A small whimper escapes her lips before she rolls over. The sheets are tangled around her nightgown, evidence of her unhappy rest.
Gingerly, I adjust the blankets to better cover her, though there is hardly any nighttime chill in this temperate kingdom.
"She nearly fed on someone else, earlier."
I go still, keeping my voice low. "Who?"
"Some Aurefeldan knight whose blood tempted her greatly, like yours.
Perhaps you met him in the barracks. He outright offered his blood, but she would not feed on him," he adds with a heavy sigh.
"Why must she be altruistic to a fault? It's fucking maddening.
If she was anything like me, she would be sleeping with a full stomach. "
Part of me is relieved Verena didn't feed on another. If she had, what would have stopped him from becoming too greedy with the pleasure her bite brings?
I do not trust the greed of Aurefeldans.
And yet…
She has not fed from me since the start of the journey here. Eris said she drank blood in the Loomdark, but now she has gone another day with nothing.
The thought of my vantaei trying to fall asleep with such an empty stomach is intolerable.
She whimpers once more, curling in on herself in her sleep. Her breathing grows quicker for a moment, as if she runs from whatever monstrous visions plague her nights.
I reach out to cradle Verena's face and once again use the runes emblazoned upon my arms. They heat rapidly upon my skin, a warning that I have not let the spells rest long enough since using them to put the guards to sleep—but finally, she relaxes into a deeper sleep.
"You should have done that when she wasn't able to sleep at the inns," Eris scoffs quietly.
After placing a featherlight kiss on her temple, I release Verena and blow off the steam now rising from my arms. When I was given these runes as payment long ago, the witch who enchanted them cautioned me to use them sparingly.
"She explicitly ordered me to guard Snow White those nights, but I am held hostage by no such order tonight. I can return again tomorrow to do this once more."
Eris pauses. "Don't return tomorrow night."
I look at him again, inquisitive.
"Just trust me," he says earnestly. "I'll take care of her."
I may not trust Aurefeldans, but I suppose I trust Eris. Still, for a moment, I linger in silence beside the bed.
I should leave. Return to the barracks.
Instead, I give in to the temptation and carefully lie down beside Verena. Close enough that I will sense if her sleep grows fitful again, but not close enough to satisfy my constant, selfish longing to hold her close.
"Wake me before dawn," I murmur before I fall asleep guarding my vantaei.