Chapter 20 #2
I had no time to waste. There was less than two hours before dinner, and I needed a bath. Whether my hair would dry enough to be styled or if Catrin would be able to press a gown on time were other questions altogether.
Turning back toward the castle, Catrin had disappeared, likely already running down the hall to get her iron. When I reached my apartment, I found her inside, sweating over a dress. Seeing me, she ran to the tub, dropping lavender into the bathwater male servants were busy filling.
I waved her away. “Don’t trouble yourself, Catrin. I can bathe alone.”
She exhaled slowly, loosening the strands of hair sticking to her face. “Isca, moments like these make me grateful to be serving a woman who knows how to take care of herself. Thank you!”
The gown she’d chosen was a midnight blue trimmed with silver embroidery. It was sleeker than others I’d worn thus far, the neckline slightly lower.
She was muttering something about the hem not sitting straight as she pulled the silver belt tighter at my waist, when I asked, “Has Prince Emrys been informed of Owain’s presence?”
My hair was still unbound, curling in waves down my back. Braiding it while wet would only make it take longer to dry.
“Yes,” she said, frowning as she adjusted the sleeves. “His steward told him an hour ago. But…” she hesitated, eyes flicking to mine, “apparently, he…might not attend dinner.”
My hands clenched at my sides. “He what?”
Catrin winced at my tone. “He didn’t say no. Just… hasn’t said yes.”
Fury caught in my chest like fire through kindling.
“He can’t leave me to do this alone,” I said, my voice rising in panic. “This is a prince of Larethia. I don’t even know what he came for.” Talking to no one but myself, I gritted out, “No. Absolutely not.”
I turned from Catrin, rifling through the carved wooden box that held the small sum of my personal belongings.
My fingers found the glass vial tucked in among trinkets and notes.
Still full and cool to the touch, I pulled the pale blue bottle out like I was unsheathing a weapon. And for someone like me, it was one.
I turned and stormed toward the door.
Catrin opened her mouth, but I was already summoning my magic. The door flew open with a resounding crack, slamming against the stone wall. She squeaked in surprise.
Only as I stomped over the threshold did I realize that Catrin had never seen me actually use magic. And it had just swept out of me like wind lashing the storm-ravaged coastline.
“I— Sorry,” I muttered back to her as I stalked into the corridor, vial clenched in my fist. My hair spilled across my shoulders in a wild curtain, but I barely noticed its disarray I was so enraged.
Catrin’s soft slippers pattered on the stone behind me. A glance back showed her peering through my open door, half-hidden, half-worried.
I reached Emrys’s chambers and banged hard with my knuckles.
“Prince Emrys!” I shouted at the wood. “I demand a moment of your time in my capacity as a diplomat for the Assembly!”
A surge of his dark magic answered, flinging open his door.
A second later, Emrys stood on the threshold. His dark, tousled hair framed eyes blazing with terrifying volatility. I could feel, almost see, his magic pulsing just beneath his skin. He looked half-crazed, half-starved, not for food but for control.
My heart lurched, traitorous thing, at the sight of his shirt askew off his shoulders. A bit of exposed skin should not have been enough to make me forget the stakes of dealing with this cursed man entirely.
“What?” he snapped. His voice had teeth. Had I been less panicked about dealing with the prince of Larethia alone, I would’ve realized that pushing Emrys into a formal dinner when he was like this wasn’t the wisest decision.
I stepped forward and thrust the vial into his chest. “Take this. Now.”
His gaze flicked down to the glass, to the tops of my half-exposed breasts, then back up to me, incredulous. “More leaves in a bottle?”
“Yes,” I said, louder than I’d meant to. “Because I’ve spent days reading everything I can find on Darreth, and I still know nothing compared to what you surely do. And I cannot—I will not—represent this kingdom alone at this dinner. I need the prince.”
Something I said struck him like a slap. He flinched, and for a fleeting second, his eyes betrayed a hint of misery.
Then they flashed a brilliant blue and he snatched the vial from my fingers. “Fine!”
And with that, he slammed the door not three feet from my face—again.
Catrin said nothing as I returned to my chambers. My pulse still thrummed with the aftershock of his fury, my magic buzzing as if the confrontation had set it alight. I didn’t regret what I’d said, but I did regret that she’d been there to witness it.
The scent of lavender from the small vial of perfume I’d made back in Caervorn dispersed some of the tension as I sat before the bronze mirror, watching Catrin’s usually deft fingers fumble with my braids. She pulled too tightly once then dropped that section entirely.
“Catrin,” I said, frowning slightly at her reflection. “You’re shaking.”
Her hands stilled, hovering over my hair like a flock of birds too afraid to land. “I… Lady Isca, no one has spoken to Prince Emrys that way since…forever.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, as though afraid the stone walls would carry the words elsewhere. “Not even his father.”
The embers of my indignation hadn’t yet gone out. I said, “Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe he needs to hear a few harsh words occasionally.”
But her reflection didn’t smile back at me like I’d expected.
My stomach sank through the stones underneath my feet. “How badly have I—” I stopped, swallowed hard then managed to complete the question. “Messed up?”
For a long moment, the only sound was the comb sliding through my hair. Then, in a thin whisper, she said, “I wasn’t worried for your position, Lady Isca.”
I went still. Completely, utterly still.
I had not only yelled at the Crown Prince of this nation, but also the most powerful mage alive, the cursed beast who barely clung to his sanity. And I’d done so without even a flicker of caution, wielding my fear like a blade.
My voice was thin and reedy, like a frightened bird. “I’ll apologize. He isn’t the monster he seems to think he is.”
Catrin nodded, but the crease in her brow and the tremor in her emotions told me she held a fear I had stubbornly ignored.
“Say it,” I whispered. “Please.”
She sucked in a breath and said, “I worry about how he’s going to react.
Emrys is either going to run and hide even more than he already does, come out of his shell, or lose control.
Not because he’d want to hurt you—he wouldn’t, he’d do everything he could to prevent it—but some days, it’s like he’s barely holding himself together. ”
The sorrow she felt for him hit me square in the chest, and I realized how badly I’d bungled this. With a sigh, my righteous anger deflated, leaving only guilt in its wake. “You’re right. I wasn’t acting very much like an empath, pushing him like that.”
“No.” Catrin said softly. “I don’t think you understand, Lady Isca.
Emrys has seen more of the light of day since you’ve arrived than he had for years.
He puts on a good show when you’re around, but he’s been living in a prison of his own making for a very long time.
I… I just don’t want to see him go back there.
Emrys doesn’t bend for anyone, but he did for you. ”
I shut my eyes. The truth of it wrapped into a knot inside my chest that I couldn’t untangle with my worries blocking the way. If I failed tonight with Emrys or Owain… No, I couldn’t think about that. I couldn’t afford to doubt myself. Not now.
I had poked a lion who wanted nothing more than to hide in his cave and then asked him to join me for dinner. Someone had to pull him into the light. And I had simply been reckless enough to try.
I could almost hear the gods laughing again—this time, at me.