Chapter 33 Grave
GRAVE
The last thing I wanted to do was sit around listening to Ryder drone on about his achievements, especially when Audryn could be dying in her room. How could he entertain guests when the woman he claimed to be courting was ill?
I turned the corner and approached the corridor to Audryn’s room.
The guard stepped away from the wall and appraised me.
With a twitching nose, he took several inhales before his upper lip curled.
I hadn’t changed my clothes, even after she’d vomited on them.
The odor had turned into a foul and sour stench, but it was still a piece of the woman who’d piqued my interest for a reason I’d yet to fully understand.
The last time I interacted with Guard Roark, he’d transferred a book to her for me. But asking to meet Audryn in her room was a request only a fool would allow. For my sake, I hoped he’d let me pass, but for his sake he should deny everyone, including me; Audryn’s safety was essential.
“I’m here for Audryn.” I retrieved the small book I kept with me during my travels. It was one my mother read to me as a child, the same one that always settled my mind before sleep.
The guard looked down his wide nose and reached to take it from my hand. I considered punching him for assuming I’d hand it over. Instead, I moved the book just out of his reach.
“No, I need to give it to her myself.” My jaw clenched, and I stepped forward. As expected, Roark stood in front of me and inflated his chest, widening his shoulders. I was glad he took his role seriously.
“Nobody is to pass through these halls,” Roark commanded.
I briefly considered just how much of a fight it might be to force my way through.
It would take me only a moment to figure out his magic and deem it worthless.
He had to be proficient enough in fighting to hold this position, but I was confident my abilities outmatched his, and it would take little effort to get past him.
Roark shifted on his feet, and his tone teetered back to its previous nervous cadence. “An–and even if they could enter,” he said, blowing out a breath, “Mi-Miss Audryn is under strict quarantine orders for the next two days so her illness does not reach any others.”
“She already vomited on me, so surely if I’m to catch the sickness, it’s already with me.”
The man shifted again, and for a moment I thought he might fold under my request. Over the years I’d seen him standing sentry for Ryder, and he always appeared on edge while the other guards were much more seasoned; perhaps that was what led to his reassignment.
Staring up at the wall above my head, he held firm. “You cannot pass. If you would like the book to be given—I will do that. But only because it is for her and not as a favor to you.”
Leaving such a significant item with the guard wasn’t ideal, but there was no better alternative. I passed the book off hesitantly, taking more care to do so than I would a newly born baby. The papers were fragile after being thumbed through for three decades, whether by my hands or my mother’s.
Roark raised a brow. “Something else you needed, or was this it?”
“Will she be okay?”
The guard’s lips pursed as he seemed to consider what information he was permitted to divulge. “I suspect so, but I don’t know, it’s not my place to ask. I—” He looked around and then backed against the wall and stared straight ahead as if he weren’t in the middle of verbalizing a thought.
Instead of pressing further, I left him in the corridor and found my way back to the main one. There were other ways to get the information. While the healer would likely be just as tight-lipped, perhaps I could offer something to at least get confirmation of Audryn's health.
My boots hit the stone as I strode through the maze of endless halls, my legs carrying me to an old familiar place. I might not have known all the corridors in the castle, but I knew my way to the Sutton’s private area—more specifically, a certain royal bedroom.
I had almost arrived at the royal corridor when I found Mirael leaning against the wall, speaking to another woman. Even from behind, and at a distance, the woman’s bony frame was startling compared to the softer features of a fae.
“King Grave, have you lost your way?” the healer teased and offered a smile. “Or perhaps you are looking for a familiar bedroom to occupy your time? I can retrieve Princess Sutton for you.”
When I was fifteen, we had a brief week-long fling. I’d been careless with my newly given position and entangled myself with the princess of a kingdom which never respected my father or mother. Believing it was possible that a Sutton could see past one’s familial line was naive.
I would never forget the time I spent with Leanna, both because of the joy it brought me in a time I was broken, but also because it reaffirmed what I’d already known: every Sutton was the same.
They were driven by their own desires and would do whatever they could to attain them, often at the expense of others.
“I’m not here for her.” I paused and eyed the back of the dark-haired woman’s head. Her locks were stringy, and the ends were jagged as if she’d taken scissors to her hair herself rather than seeking a barber.
Mirael’s gaze followed mine, prompting the woman to turn. And when she did, something in the pit of my stomach pulled toward her. She held the same dark eyes as my sister, and my mind soared with a dozen questions I couldn’t organize.
“I believe he is here with a different interest.” The woman’s blood-red lips smiled. “For feelings he cannot confess.”
“Have we met before?” Admitting I hadn’t recognized someone when perhaps I should’ve, pushed me to the edge of embarrassment. I was fairly proficient at remembering those in Crofea and even kept a detailed book of the few I met from the Alden Islands.
Mirael looked between the woman and me and fidgeted.
“I’m—” I started, and extended a hand.
“I know who you are.” The woman cut me off almost immediately. “No need for introductions, I can see the sign. For your magic sings from your father’s line.”
Lifting my chin, I stood while she took a moment to look me up and down.
The woman’s head tilted. “It’s interesting, isn’t it?” A slight smile passed across her lips as she let the still air settle over us.
My voice caught in my throat, and instead of words, only a graveled hum escaped.
“Just like your father, you find yourself drawn to a fae, but it is for love and not a simple lay.” The woman tsk’d. “History does like to repeat itself, doesn’t it? Let’s hope for your sake you have a better outcome than he did.”
My stomach sank as the words remained swirling in my mind.
“Keep her close, Grave,” the woman said. “For if you do not, she will become a Sutton slave.”
Before I could respond, the woman walked away, leaving me both baffled and irritated. Few knew of my father's true nature, and certainly no one residing in Rivale knew of his brutality. This woman, however, knew something.
“How can I help you?” Mirael interrupted my thoughts. Her eyes set on the woman gliding down the hall; she was a menace—one I hadn’t been prepared to encounter.
I shook my head, mind still reeling.
“I will advise the princess of your visit.” The healer turned toward the vigilant guard standing at the mouth of the corridor.
“I’m here for you,” I snapped. Mirael’s head turned, and her face heated. Realizing my mistake, I spoke quickly, “Not to bed you—I would never.”
Her face dropped.
“Not that you’re not acceptable, I’m just not—” My words stumbled. The interaction was becoming worse with each word that left my mouth.
“I see you like digging your own …” she said, and paused for theatrical effect, “grave.” The corners of the woman’s deep-sea colored eyes crinkled as I rolled my eyes.
Shifting, I considered the best way to get the information I so badly sought. “I’m feeling unwell, and considering the events at dinner, I wanted to see how the woman was faring.”
“The woman?” Mirael pressed and raised an eyebrow.
I blew out a breath. “You know I’m referring to Audryn.”
“Well, you don’t appear sick.” She looked me over. “Have you vomited, or does your belly ache? Have you lost control of your bowels?”
“No.” I shook my head and swallowed hard. All moisture once in my throat had vanished. Knowing Mirael was questioning my intent, I attempted to pivot the point. “My concern is only for myself. Is the illness fatal?”
“No,” she replied coyly, her smile tipping the corner of her mouth up despite her best effort. “She will be fine, and perhaps you will too.” She paused for a moment. “Any other inquiries you might have?”
I attempted to gather my thoughts. “What is the name of the woman you were with?”
“She goes by many names.” Mirael looked everywhere but in my direction. “Would you like me to find out what’s ailing you, or should I assume you are well enough not to require a healer? I have other matters to tend to.”
“There’s no need for your services. I will take rest in my room,” I said. Mirael dipped her chin before I made my way back through the corridor.
I found Amalee sitting on the sofa in my room by the time I made it back; her black eyes narrowed on me. Ignoring her, I moved to the bathing room to start a bath.
“Don’t think we aren’t talking about the shit you pulled tonight,” my sister snapped from the other room.
I kicked the door shut with my boot and began removing my clothes. Had my pants not been black, the bottoms would have been noticeably stained red from the vomited wine. The door flew open just as I threw my shirt on the floor. “Hey—get out of here!”
“I can’t think of a single thing more sickening than watching you bathe.” Amalee turned and faced the door leading to her adjoining room. “But you can’t avoid me. You’re going to explain yourself.”
I finished undressing and climbed into the tub. The hot water was exactly what I needed to release the tension of the evening.
Shifting on her feet, she crossed her arms and prepared to lecture me just as she had since we were children. With mannerisms so similar to my mother, it was like she herself was about to reprimand me instead of my sister.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Amalee used my mother’s opening line to reel me into the conversation.
Water splashed over the side of the tub and onto the floor as I rolled my shoulders back and sank deep inside. It didn’t matter if I was the one who held the title of king; Amalee had little regard for the position in private.
“Why couldn’t you keep yourself out of their business?” She huffed. “I should be home and in bed with Sky, yet you only continue to antagonize Ryder.”
There was no need to see her look of dismay when I could hear it in her voice. This was the ‘I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed’ speech I received enough times to last a lifetime. My father’s speeches were always filled with fury, but my mother and Amalee knew exactly what to say.
She sighed before continuing, “What’s going to happen in the meeting tomorrow?”
“I’m not going to the meeting.”
Amalee nearly turned as frustration rippled through her, but she remained fixated on the door. “What do you mean you’re not going?”
“We aren’t leaving until it’s safe for Audryn to travel.”