22. CHAPTER 22 #2
I shook my head once more, running a hand through my curls. I was losing my mind cooped up in this castle for too long.
He gave us one long, lingering look before turning and disappearing down the corridor.
“He doesn’t like you,” Voirel announced.
It wasn’t a question, simply a statement as she glanced up at me and scrunched her nose. The frank honesty of her words made me laugh.
“No, he does not,” I agreed.
“Why?” she asked.
I laughed again, a hand against my belly. “It’s…complicated.”
“Is that code for ‘you wouldn’t understand’…because…I might.” She straightened, attempting to appear taller than she was.
I ruffled her hair affectionately. “No. It’s not much of a fun story, that’s all.”
Voirel dropped it, clapping her hands together happily when the tea was finally brought out. I had never taken tea in a garden before, and I felt more like a princess here in Stormgaard with my lavish rooms and extravagant treatment than I ever had at the palace in Myros.
There, I felt like a secret.
Sneaking in and out of Kallias’s rooms, though everyone knew who I was and why I was there. I was human, and no matter what I did, our relationship would be frowned upon. I didn’t want Sorin to be right about Kallias and my life in Myros. But I was afraid he might be.
I sipped my tea silently at Voirel’s side, enjoying the crisp morning air.
I favored the climate in Stormgaard and did not relish the idea of returning to the balmy humidity of Gothryn in summer, though the nights were cool. The only thing I looked forward to was seeing Enora and Quinnick.
I still pondered what punishment—if any—Sorin would visit upon me for trying to poison him.
I found it strange he allowed me to still roam the castle freely and consort with his sister.
Perhaps that was simply because he didn’t want to explain the circumstances to her.
Voirel was safe from me; I would never dream of hurting her.
I had grown quite fond of her, in truth.
Would I be brought back to Gothryn for a trial? Would there even be a trial…or would I simply be executed as a traitor to the crown and to Gothryn?
Or would Sorin show me mercy, sending me back to Myros, never to be heard from again?
I wasn’t sure, and the thought sat heavily in my stomach. I could only pray to the old gods that he saw fit to exile me. It would be the least severe punishment he could bestow.
We had left things…uncertain. I had revealed my true motives to him and was no longer a threat. He could now see that I was merely a puppet being pulled by Queen Dyata’s strings.
My own overthinking had made the tea turn sour.
I set my porcelain cup back down on its saucer.
One of the maids I recognized from the kitchens appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on her flour-covered apron.
I hoped she was baking that delicious sourdough loaf again—the one with the cheese in the middle.
“My ladies.” She bowed deeply; her short hair pulled up into a net. “I thought you might like to know the scouts have spotted Prince Sorin on the horizon.”
Voirel shot to her feet, and it took only a moment for me to realize I had as well. We exchanged a surprised glance that had us bursting into laughter as we sprinted to the doorway. The maid’s laugh echoed behind us as we gathered our skirts, racing down the corridor toward the main hall.
Voirel might be shorter than the typical Vireth, but she was still half fae. Her stamina and speed far exceeded my own. By the time we made it out to the courtyard and the sea wall beyond I was out of breath, panting as I leaned against the ocean sprayed stone.
“You win,” I conceded, hands up in surrender.
Voirel gave me a self-satisfied smirk that lifted the corner of her mouth. “I always do.”
I didn’t doubt that Sorin would always let her win. But I hadn’t let her in truth, she had simply beat my human speed and endurance with ease. Though I had to admit, I was much faster than I ever had been before.
She had only beaten me by a few lengths.
Our laughter dissolved as we searched the horizon. The sun was hanging high in the sky, beating down on Stormgaard for the first time in days. It was always overcast here, perpetually covered in a thick haze above the thrashing seas.
I brought my hand to my brow to shield my gaze from the sun as a shadow raced across it, blotting it from view and eclipsing our forms below in shadow.
His screech pierced the air. To my surprise, it didn’t send me crawling for safety.
Didn’t raise gooseflesh across my skin as it had the first time I had heard it.
I found myself smiling as my gaze cast skyward.
I watched him circle, his enormous body gliding along the current of wind effortlessly.
I had to admit; his dragon form was quite elegant if not terrifying at the same time.
His horned skull turned, his ebony scaled chest pointing straight at us as his sword tail whipped and he made for the sea wall.
Was he going to land on it? He wouldn’t…
It would never hold his weight—it would crumble beneath him! Voirel and I stepped back from the wall as he dove closer, only a few beats away. His wings flapped forward sharply to slow his momentum.
Suddenly, I didn’t see claws any longer. I saw boot clad feet.
He strode onto the seawall easily, his wings spread wide at his back as he jumped down and crossed the stone courtyard toward us. His magic made the transition appear utterly seamless, his obsidian beaded garments still fully intact.
His lips were stretched into a grin, his sharpened canines on full display.
His beard was thicker, as if he hadn’t had time to groom it during his time at the palace. Voirel ran toward him, jumping into his arms. His eyes pressed closed as he held her, nostrils flared as he inhaled her familiar scent.
When he placed her back down, his gaze flitted to mine. Mischief was clear in his expression. He was certainly in a good mood.
His gaze darkened as he assessed me, head to toe. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and I fought the urge to shrink back under his appraisal. His grin was contagious and I couldn’t help the returning smile that turned up my own lips as he glanced between the two of us.
“I hope you have your best dress on reserve, Voirel.”
“Why is that?” she asked, bouncing on her toes as Sorin put an arm around her shoulder and guided her toward me.
He glanced between us, expression conspiratorial.
“Have you ever attended a masquerade ball?”