Chapter 17 #2
“What are you doing?” Ren demands, his voice barely above a whisper. I hadn’t seen him since our conversation in the commons five days ago.
I knew he was going to make it more difficult to find my mother, especially if he’s lurking in the halls late at night. I swallow my frustration, staring at him in silence.
He flicks his gaze down the hall near the courtyard, as if looking for the guards. An expression passes over his features—too quick for me to decipher.
With how the castle is laid out, the front is in the shape of a horseshoe with openings to the courtyard near the middle. The king’s archives rest at the back and can be seen in any direction. Even though I took the long way, I still have to hide myself to arrive at my stairwell. But so does he.
And for some reason, I begin to think he doesn’t want to get caught either.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I counter, arching a brow when my eyes flick to his hands, a smirk tugging at my lips. “Are those tarts?”
He quickly hides the items, eyes narrowing.
“No,” he says sharply, keeping his voice down. “And don’t make me ask you again.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I lie, quietly moving toward him and stopping at the edge of his boots. “I didn’t know I was confined to my room for eternity, Captain.”
Since a lot of our missions are done at night, we don’t necessarily have a curfew, which is why most of us like to visit Alvonia in our free time. But if we’re caught running rampant around the castle late at night, you can guarantee we’ll be questioned about it.
“Are you stealing from the kitchens?” I arch a brow. “I wonder what the punishment would be for that.”
Silence stretches for a beat, and I notice the way he refuses to meet my gaze, as if wanting to avoid this conversation entirely. He glances down the hall once more before turning back to me.
“I won’t say anything if you won’t,” he mutters, catching me by surprise. So he is stealing. A captain stealing from the kitchens? Well, this just got interesting.
“But I’m not stealing,” I quip, giving him a menacing grin.
His eyes narrow as he scans me in silence before leaning down, muttering quietly under his breath.
“No, you’re not,” he admits. “But you’re definitely not out here because you couldn’t sleep.” His eyes remain cold and uncaring, but I almost sense a hint of amusement within his gaze.
Dammit. I study him for a solid minute before carelessly shrugging—not wanting to question his reasoning for bypassing why I’m in this hall.
“Fine.” I nod toward the courtyard, silently suggesting he take the lead, but only because I don’t want to get caught. His scarred brow arches, and then I watch as he shifts his weight, stepping into the shadows on silent feet.
His movements are precise and utterly silent against the cold stone floor, and for a moment, admiration washes over me. Not that I’d ever admit that out loud.
The faint sound of armor clinks from the courtyard, forcing me to press myself against the cool stone, the scent of damp earth filling my senses. We wait, hearing the guards’ voices drift in and out, one quietly laughing at something I can’t quite make out from this distance.
Ren pauses a step ahead of me, his large frame barely visible once he reaches the edge of the hall. He peeks around the corner, raising a hand for me to wait, when I glance down, spotting the items hanging in his right hand.
Those are tarts. I knew it.
I smirk behind his back, quickly composing myself when he urges me to follow as we move left. I step forward, spotting the two guards perched outside the archives, deep in conversation.
We cross the threshold in an instant and out of sight, remaining in the shadows near the entrance to my stairwell, making this little late-night adventure a success.
I shake my head. These guards are awful.
Now, I need to enter the door to my left while Ren needs to enter the one to his right, leading him down the hall where the rest of our brethren sleep on the first level.
He reaches the handle, then hesitates, only to glance over his shoulder to throw me a wry smirk before disappearing. And for some reason, I find myself giving him one of my own as we both go our separate ways. What an odd interaction.
I quickly race up my stairs and shut the door behind me as I enter and exhale. After shrugging off my cloak, I place it in my wardrobe and shut the doors with a soft click. With a flick of my wrist, I light the hearth and smile.
“Are you awake?” Rydian slides into my head, and I outwardly groan, instantly ruining my brief moment of joy. “If you’re awake, you’ll see what I sent you.”
I kick off my boots with a huff and stride to my whiskey, then pour myself a glass. I catch myself wondering if I can find a way to get him to stop pestering me all day. It’s not like I’m not doing anything.
I’m standing in front of the large arched windows, sipping, when a loud tapping noise beats against the glass. What the…
I carefully set down my whiskey and squint, attempting to look outside. After unlatching the window, I swing it open to reveal a large hawk perched on the edge of the window. There’s no way. I recognize the large bird as Rydian’s and groan.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I mutter. “I can’t respond so he sends his damn bird to me?” I realize that this must be what he meant when he said he sent me something.
“I have a name,” Ire says casually, and I gasp, my mouth falling open at the sound.
My eyes go wide, and for a moment, large hawk eyes blankly stare at me, as if he didn’t expect me to hear him. Did I hear him? His voice was low as it entered my mind.
“How long have you been there?” I ask.
“Only today. But I’ve been ordered to watch over you for a few days,” he says.
“A few days? How long is a few days?” Annoyance coats my tone—Rydian doesn’t trust me. “Why didn’t you get my attention sooner?”
“I tried to earlier, but you didn’t notice.”
How could I have missed such a large bird outside my window? My eyes remain wide as I realize that my magic must be coming in a lot faster than I originally thought. It’s odd considering I haven’t progressed with any magic in years, so why now?
“Tell your king he’s giving me a headache by talking to me so much. I can’t think when all he does is badger me constantly,” I say and hear a noise come out of him that sounds a lot like a chuckle.
I step away from the window as Ire hops onto the table, knocking over one of my glasses and causing me to lunge for it to keep from shattering. I huff, blowing hair out of my face.
“I can’t. You have to tell him.”
“Why do I have to tell him? Don’t you talk to him?” I ask.
Ire blinks twice, then tucks his wings further into his sides. “I talk to him. He just can’t hear me, so you need to write a letter. He’s becoming quite impatient,” he adds and then takes a claw to scratch behind his ear while I stare at him.
“What?” I ask, brows pinching as a thought crosses my mind.
“Are you going to write something?” he presses.
“Yes. Okay, fine,” I get out, quickly finding something to scribble a note, letting Rydian know how much of a headache he is and that I’m in fact searching the castle for Elynor.
I hand the note off to Ire, who flies off in a matter of seconds. It doesn’t take long for him to deliver my note, and Rydian’s loud guffaw jolts in my head. So loud that I wince.
A sound I could easily get used to, it seems. His laughter is rich and warm, coating my insides like a thick quilt. Then he speaks, snuffing out the warm, fuzzy thoughts I was previously having.
“I do love that you’re searching for Queen Elynor, but a headache is going to be the least of your worries if you don’t meet me in Alvonia soon…” he warns, and I roll my eyes.
I wait a few minutes, thinking he’s finished speaking, and begin changing my clothes into something to sleep in.
“I’ve found something, and I think you’d really want to know what I found,” he says finally and I groan, my head slamming into the pillow just as I settle in bed.