Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
Eirabella
“I’m telling you, it’s the Festival of Shadows!” Caelum practically shouts, as if repeating himself will make him right. “The riddle says, ‘Where light meets darkness, and balance is found.’ That’s the festival in a nutshell.”
I wave a dismissive hand at his words. “Caelum, for someone who had the education you did, you’re not very good at riddles.”
He sits up, his expression exaggeratedly offended. “Excuse me? I’m the Duke of Thornehaven, thank you very much, and my interpretation of this riddle is flawless.”
The sun is deliciously warm on my skin, and the winter-warded garden is in full bloom as I sit cross-legged on the grass, the riddle’s clue spread out in front of the two of us. Both Rylan and the healer insisted that I take a few days off after my incident with Selene, so I have been enjoying the free time. Alina lounges on the marble bench to my right, soaking up the sunshine with a lazy smile on her face, while Caelum stretches out on the grass next to me, leaning back on his elbows, looking entirely too smug for someone who’s clearly wrong.
Alina giggles, her eyes still closed. “You’re the duke of being wrong, is what you are.”
I can’t help but laugh as I look at her. “Exactly. He doesn’t get it. The answer is clearly the Midnight Duel, not the Festival of Shadows. ‘Where light meets darkness’? The Midnight Duel is where the two rivals—light and darkness, symbolised by the moon and sun—fought until dawn, when the first light broke through. Not some stupid festival.”
Caelum narrows his eyes at me, but there’s a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “And why should I trust a poor peasant girl’s interpretation of ancient riddles? I am nobility, after all.”
I roll my eyes. “Because this poor but clever peasant girl is right. Being a duke doesn’t make you less wrong. Just more pompous.”
“Besides,” Alina adds, turning her head slightly toward Caelum, “the Midnight Duel is much more romantic than some old festival.”
Caelum sighs dramatically. “Two against one. I see how it is. And the Festival of Shadows isn’t stupid. You’re just jealous because you didn’t think of it.”
Before I can gloat any further, light laughter drifts through the garden. I glance up to see Queen Annalyne strolling past with her ladies-in-waiting, her smile warm as she catches the end of our conversation.
“Caelum, my dear,” the queen says, her voice light and teasing, “you really should listen to the ‘peasant’ girl. She may very well be our future Aquilith, after all. And I do think her interpretation is the correct one this time.”
Caelum scrambles to his feet to give his aunt a peck on her cheek before pulling back to give her a playful bow, grinning wide. “Yes, Your Majesty. Clearly, I’ve been outmatched.”
“Quite the clever thinker you are, Eirabella. I shall have to find some more riddles with which to stump you. Mustn’t let that sharp mind ever go to waste, my dear,” she says to me, and I can only smile shyly in return. I still haven’t gotten used to running into the king and queen at any time during the day.
Caelum flops back to the grass. “Fine, Aunt Annie. But remember to give them to me first so I can have a head start. I’m your favourite and most handsome nephew, remember.”
The queen gently chuckles as she continues on her way, and my eyes briefly lock with Julietta, who’s walking among the ladies-in-waiting. Her sharp glare is unmistakable, and the waves of jealousy radiating from her are practically visible to the naked eye. But before I can react, Alina speaks up again, her voice as breezy as ever.
“Careful, Julietta,” she calls out without even opening her eyes. “Green isn’t your colour.”
A snort of laughter escapes me, and Caelum grins, but Julietta only stiffens, turning sharply as she returns to the group following the queen.
“You really know how to make friends, don’t you?” Caelum says, nudging me.
I shrug, still grinning. “She started it. I’m a delight; can’t imagine why she has a problem with me.”
Caelum and Alina share a quick look that I ignore as I lie back on the grass, basking in the warmth and the gentle teasing from my new friends. I can’t help but feel a sense of peace. A tiny moment of belonging in a world that confounds and confuses to no end.
Dear Janus,
I have been here almost a month with no word from you. I admit I am becoming rather worried. Please get word to me soon.
As for me, since I may not be able to see you as soon as I was hoping, here are some tidbits to keep you amused until I do.
The King’s Guards are, believe it or not, capable of speaking more than a word at a time. I was as surprised to find that out as you are, no doubt.
Also, apparently I am somewhat… a magical anomaly. No doubt you remember the ice shield I conjured during the village fire. It was not, as I had feared, a one-off. In fact, it is only one of many things I can do now. I can’t wait to show you.
I miss you. So much. I hope you’ve learned to boil a potato at least, and that you and Kahlia are staying fed. I long for the days when we can share a cup of tea again.
Janus - Do you wonder where we’d be if you’d said what you were going to say to me on that morning before I left?
Xx,
E
When I return to my room after dropping Janus’s letter off with the castle’s messenger, the door is open. I’m wary about going inside, but then I see two servants carrying a chest between them. I step into my room, my gaze narrowing as I see more servants handling my belongings, packing them up without so much as a word to me.
"What is going on here?" I snap, but the servants continue as if nothing is amiss. I step forward, putting myself in front of one of them, blocking their path.
"Oh, hello, Eirabella,” Brienne says, rushing in from the chamber room.
“Brienne, what is happening?”
She frowns. "You… don’t know? Prince Rylan... he ordered for you to be moved to his quarters," she says, her hands fidgeting nervously.
I blink, stunned. "He what?"
Brienne swallows hard. "This morning. Told me to pack up all your things to be moved. You’ll have a suite in his wing."
My heart begins to pound in my chest, a mix of disbelief and anger rising in me. "Did he give a reason for this?"
"He said it’s customary for disciples to stay with their trainers," she says, her voice small.
I glare at her. "And you? Are you coming with me?"
Brienne shakes her head, her expression sad. "No. All of the royal family’s quarters have their own servants. Someone else will be assisting you."
My anger flares. "Over my rotting, stinking body!" I shout, my voice echoing through the room. The servants freeze, eyes wide. "All of you—stop what you’re doing," I order, my tone leaving no room for argument. When they hesitate, I glare harder. "If you don’t want to wake up with goat turds in your beds for the next six months, don’t touch my things without my permission ever again."
I find him outside, speaking with a group of visiting nobles. He’s composed, calm, the picture of royalty, but I don’t care. I march straight up to him, ignoring the stares and gasps of the nobles around him.
"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" I demand, not bothering to lower my voice.
Rylan’s expression doesn’t even flicker, but I can see the tightening of his jaw. He raises a hand to his guests, excusing himself before he turns to me. "Eirabella," he says in that maddeningly calm voice, "this is not the time—"
I cut him off. "You had no right to move my things. I’m not moving into your quarters."
"It’s not up for discussion," he replies, not a note of compromise in his tone.
I narrow my eyes at him. "How about up for argument ?"
His eyes darken slightly, and he steps closer, lowering his voice. "Disciples traditionally live in shared quarters with their trainers. The only reason you haven’t moved sooner is because I have my own wing in the family tower. This is the way it’s done."
"Then change it. What’s the point of being the crown prince if you can’t make your own rules?" I hiss back, crossing my arms over my chest.
"The point of being the crown prince is I can protect my disciples better than other mentors. This move is for your safety," he says, his tone softening for a moment, though his eyes remain hard. "I need you close by so I can make sure no one harms you. Do you have any inkling of how many have it out for you because you’re my disciple?"
I want to argue, to tell him I don’t need his protection, but something about the way he says it... it throws me off balance. The truth of his words hits me, even if I hate admitting it. Still, I’m not giving in that easily .
"I’m not moving," I say stubbornly.
Rylan’s gaze hardens, and he lowers his voice so only I can hear. "I wasn’t asking , disciple. You’re moving into my quarters. No discussion, no arguments. I suggest you don’t push me." He rolls his shoulders. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to return to my guests.”
Later, after dinner, Mathis walks me to my new room, hands tucked casually behind his back like he’s got nowhere else to be. As Captain of the King’s Guard, I know better. We’re back on good terms. I’d sought him out a few days after I’d run away from him in the city square with a giant ice cream sundae and apologised profusely. He’d forgiven me almost immediately, but not before making me sit and watch him eat almost the entire sundae in silence, knowing just how much I love ice cream. As soon as he’d said, “Fine. I forgive you. But do it again and you’ll find this ice cream sundae turned upside down on your head,” I’d grabbed the spoon right out of his hand and finished off the sundae to the sound of his loud protests.
We’re taking the scenic route through the gardens and I’m teasing him about Lady Palomia almost tripping over her own feet trying to get his attention at dinner when he stops, touching me gently on the elbow. “Hey, Eira, I don’t mean to pry, but... is this argumentativeness of yours a new thing, or has it been hiding under all that sunshine until now?”
I grin at him. “Must be contagious. I’m usually quite easy going. I think I caught it from Rylan. Should I be going for the charming rogue act like you instead?”
He gasps, clutching his chest. “I’ve been accused of many things, but my charm being an act? That’s below the belt.”
“You’d know all about below the belt, wouldn’t you?” I shoot back, raising a brow .
His laugh is low and easy, and I can see why the ladies of the court are all mad for him. “Careful, Eira. If you keep flirting with me like this, people are going to talk.”
“What are they going to say? How lucky Captain Corvane is, that Eirabella Kaye is such a catch?” I say, shoving him lightly with my shoulder. “I’m not afraid of them.”
“Well, I’m afraid of what one person in particular might say if people are spreading rumours of me ‘catching’ you, so to speak,” he murmurs under his breath. But then his playful demeanour shifts and he guides me forward as we enter the royal family’s tower. “All jokes aside, take it easy on Rylan, yeah?”
I blink, my irritation flaring again. “Is this where you tell me he means well, and I just need to be more understanding?”
Mathis leans closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Look, I’m just saying, I saw him before dinner, and he was one snarl away from ripping someone’s head off. It’s been a hard few days for him. When you were pushed to burn out? That messed him up. He feels responsible too.”
I scoff. “He has a funny way of showing concern.”
Mathis sighs but gives me a crooked smile. “He’s not exactly subtle, our prince. He’s been through a lot in his life. It’s not easy, being Rylan. And protecting the people he cares about? That’s both his way of keeping himself from falling apart and the one thing that could destroy him if he fails.”
The weight in his words makes me pause. “Anything in particular you want to tell me about?”
He just gives me a soft smile. “Not my story to tell. Well, not entirely. It happened a long time ago, and… it changed us all. So, please, for me. Just... rein in the anger a bit. He’s doing the best he can to relinquish the control when it comes to you, even if sometimes it comes across like a drakor with a sore throat.”
I huff a laugh. It’s hard to stay mad at the charming captain.
He nods to the posted guard, and opens the door to Rylan’s wing and steps aside to let me through. “Now, get some rest. Gotta look sharp if you’re going to keep up this adorable rage troll you’re intent on going with.”
“Adorable?” I echo, raising a brow.
He nods seriously. “Yes. Adorably terrifying .”
“That’s more like it! ”
We’re still laughing, flinging good natured insults at each other as we reach my door, only to find Rylan waiting, leaning against his door frame, arms folded, brows so furrowed that they’re practically meeting in the middle of his forehead. He looks like a perfect storm about to break. His expression dark, dangerous.
"I would’ve walked you back myself," Rylan says, his eyes narrowing on Mathis. "But you disappeared after dinner."
Mathis straightens, throwing a quick, playful grin my way before offering Rylan a respectful nod. "It was my pleasure to accompany her." Rylan doesn’t respond, but the tension in the air thickens. Mathis clears his throat and steps back, excusing himself with a half-bow. “Remember what I said,” he whispers to me with a wink before disappearing down the hall.
I stand back, crossing my arms, mirroring his stance, waiting for Rylan to speak.
"You all settled?" he finally asks, gesturing toward my room with a tilt of his head.
"More or less."
His jaw tightens. "I moved you here for your safety. To make sure you're under my care."
"You could’ve asked, Rylan," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “That’s all it would’ve taken.”
"In my position, sometimes, I don’t have the luxury of asking," he replies, his gaze heavy on mine. "And I refuse to find you limp and broken on the ground ever again, Eirabella. So, I didn’t ask."
Frustration bubbles to the surface. “I know you think you’re doing the right thing. But you have to know you can’t just make decisions for me like this. I was building a life, a routine, with Brienne, finally making friends in the disciple’s quarters. And you—” I pause, inhaling sharply. “You pulled it all out from under me without so much as a word. You know how I feel about feeling like I don’t have control of my own life.”
He steps closer, closing the space between us. "And you have to know, if there’s something I can do to keep you safe, I’ll do it a thousand times over." His voice drops, low and earnest. "There’s nothing else to it."
I don’t mean to say it, but the words escape before I can stop them. "I’m not your past, Rylan. You can’t use me to fix old mistakes."
His expression falters for a split second—hurt, surprise, regret, all flickering across his face. Then the mask slips back into place. "You don't understand," he murmurs, almost to himself.
"Then tell me. Explain it to me!" I take a step forward, holding his gaze. "We’re friends, aren’t we? Tell me what happened. Maybe I can help you understand, you don’t need to be so in control all the time. Tell me what affected you so deeply that you think this is the only way to solve your problems.”
But he doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word. His throat works around a reply, but after a long silence, all he says is, “I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”
I give him a soft, sad smile. “And what I’m trying to tell you, is that what you’re doing, is worse than any hurt that you’ve imagined.” Before I can stop myself, I rise up on my tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek and whisper, “I’m sorry about whatever happened to you, Rylan. For whatever has hurt you so deeply.”
When I pull away, his eyes flare like he wants to spill everything, but then he just nods, hands flexing at his sides. I take what feels like a short moment of truce between us to ask him what I’ve been wondering about for a few days. “Rylan, what happened to Master Kaelen? I heard he’s left the castle.”
His face blanks strangely. “He has.”
“Why?”
“Apparently he was having breathing problems here.”
I frown. “Oh, that’s strange. What caused that?”
“Me.”
Despite myself, a wry smile spreads across my face. “You know, you might have a bit of an anger issue. You can’t just go around drowning everyone who threatens me!”
His jaw flexes, and if I was anyone else, I’d retreat in fear from the untamed threat in his eyes. “Try and stop me.”
I shake my head at the utter confidence in his voice. “Rylan. You’re the crown prince and my mentor. People will talk about the special treatment you’re giving me.”
He smirks. “Fucking let them.”