8
Finn
My head is somewhere three feet to the left of my body as I make my way through the court’s atrium for the second time today. Disconnected. Floating away. Lost in thoughts of black-haired witches and heartbreak.
It’s gotten so far away from me I don’t see my father—still working, still with such purpose—standing off to one side of the large chamber where courtiers come to see and be seen, until I’m just a few meters away from him.
He’s speaking with a demon I recognize vaguely, though it takes me a few seconds to place him. He’s wearing a guard uniform, but it’s not until I see the smattering of metal commendations pinned to his shoulder plate I realize how I know him.
“Ah,” my father says when he sees me approaching, with no warmth in his voice to speak of. “And here’s my son. You’ve met Finn, haven’t you?”
Oh, I’ve met the Lieutenant.
I’ve met him at several of my parties. Usually pissed off his arse, living it up with the rest of the degenerates who love to come and cut loose away from some of the stricter formalities of court.
Lieutenant Glenson coughs. “We’ve met in passing, I believe.”
“Summer Solstice, wasn’t it?” I ask, and he goes a little green.
“Er, yes. It might have been.”
Reprobate I might be, but my memory’s always been sharp. And I recall one Lieutenant who disappeared out of the bonfire light and into the Solstice wood with a very lovely demoness and a very handsome courtier on that particular night.
Not that I really care. I hope they all had a marvelous time together.
“Good to see you again,” I say, affecting my best impression of courtly manners. “And you, too, father.”
My father looks at me for a beat too long.
What can he see?
I haven’t passed a mirror since I left Callum and Seren’s rooms. Is the truth of what happened written all over my face? Am I as changed on the outside as I feel on the inside? It wouldn’t surprise me, after the day I’ve already had.
But the moment passes, and he gives his head a small shake as he turns back to Glenson.
“You’re off soon, aren’t you? I heard there was some urgent business you’re being sent on.”
“Yes, sir. We’re running an operation in the Bone Peaks,” Glenson says, all professionalism again. “Vayla, the court healer, requested it. There’s an outbreak of fever in one of the southern coastal cities, and she has a remedy which requires the night-blooming stellarin flowers that—”
“Grow only in that part of the realm,” I finish for him. “Quite close to the drakons’ breeding ground, isn’t it?”
They both look at me strangely, but I just shrug. “Botany was one of my favorite subjects in school.”
I did enjoy botany. Like everything else, though, I didn’t like it enough to make any sort of career out of it. But I’ve always had a head for remembering obscure facts, and the looks on both their faces make reciting this one worth it.
“Uh, yes,” Glenson says. “We’re assembling a team to help guard Vayla and her assistants. It’s not mating season for the drakons, but they don’t take kindly to outsiders in their midst, no matter the time of year.”
“Excellent.” My father claps him on the shoulder. Always making friends. Always with an eye for a star on the rise and an angle he can use to build a relationship that might serve him later. “I imagine that’s outside a guard’s regular duties here at court.”
Glenson nods. “It is. And with half the king’s council on a diplomatic visit to Traverdale, we’re already short-handed as it is. We’re looking for anyone, really, with a sharp mind and who can wield a sword.”
My head—still not entirely attached to my body—latches onto that statement, and my mouth starts moving before the rest of me has caught up.
“I’ll go.”
Again, they both look at me as if I’ve lost my damned mind.
“You… will?” my father asks.
I shrug. “Sure. Why not?”
It can’t be any worse than staying here at court with a mate who doesn’t want me.
He looks me up and down. “You’ll need to be outfitted with armor and a weapon.”
I look to Glenson, and he nods.
“We certainly have enough to spare.”
“Excellent,” I say, “then it’s all—”
My father isn’t finished with his nitpicking. “What training do you have that would make you useful on such an assignment?”
I can’t help but bristle a little at that. “You’ve forgotten the years of swordsmanship lessons you put all your sons through growing up?”
“I never really thought you took to those.”
Goddess, can no one give me a break today?
“I took to them just fine. I’ll spar with Glenson here if need be, just to prove I can handle myself.”
Glenson coughs uncomfortably. “There’s no need for that. The swords are mostly a precaution. If you get close enough to a drakon to use one, the only thing that’s going to save your a—er, save you—is a portal out of there.”
“Portals I can do,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder just like my father did. “Count me in for this mission.”
See? I can be a good Nighfall, playing these courtly games.
My father eyes me up as if he knows exactly what I’m doing.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t look disappointed.
Perhaps he’s already envisioning a splendid career for me in the king’s service as a guard. A few years of climbing through the ranks, some heroic deeds to get me noticed, perhaps a rise all the way to Captain, placing me at the right hand of the king.
What a boon that would be for my family and their business interests, having their wayward son so close to the seat of power in the realm.
I’m sure it’ll be one more in the long, long list of my disappointments when he realizes this isn’t going anywhere beyond a few days chasing flowers and avoiding drakon flames.
A few days far, far away from court where I won’t have to run into the mate who doesn’t want me.