Chapter 23
It’s close to midnight as I pace my chamber, waiting for Rydian’s arrival. We’ll be stealing a copy of the map from the archives tonight, but it’s not just stealing. We’ll have to transfer it to parchment and exit before anyone notices.
My adrenaline is pumping. I’ve had no problem fulfilling the king’s orders over the years, but breaking into his private archives is far different than a simple mission. It puts me on edge.
We decided that Ivy and Orin will remain in the Veil as we search for the map unless we need Orin as a distraction, which I’m hoping we won’t.
A faint knock sounds at the door. I find Rydian in all black with his hood up.
He steps in. “Are you ready?”
“No. Are you?” I huff, wiping my damp palms on my tunic.
“When we step into the Veil, you need to hold my hand or we risk you stepping out by accident. Once we get inside and find the map, we can Veil out of there and into the loft,” he says and then grins. “Just don’t, you know… throw up this time. I’d hate for you to ruin this by vomiting.”
After deciding to steal the map tonight, Rydian convinced me to travel to the loft through the Veil this morning, leaving me to run to the nearest basin to keep from hurling all over the floor. Embarrassment floods me, as it wasn’t exactly how I wanted to be introduced to Orin.
A frustrated growl escapes me when another knock interrupts whatever insult I’m about to throw Rydian. He only winks, chuckling as he steps aside.
Pulling the door open with a huff, I find Ivy and Orin waiting in my stairwell. I gave them access to the castle as soon as dusk hit, so it’s no surprise to find them knocking at my door while everyone sleeps.
Ivy wears a thick cloak like ours, but Orin wears a black tunic rolled up at the sleeves and black pants—similar to Ren’s typical wear in the brotherhood. Luckily for us, Orin is very similar to Ren in height, give or take a couple of inches. Only Orin is actually friendly and not a grumpy brute.
With dark hair and wide-set shoulders, he looks everything like a trained warrior, but also like he would start brawls for entertainment. His shoulders hardly made it through the opening on the stairs at the loft.
My curiosity suddenly spikes when a blonde birthmark near the back of his head comes into view, leaving me to wonder if everyone in Aurelia has them. Ivy has a white one resting at the top of hers, but I have yet to see one mixed into the auburn strands on Rydian though.
“Princess.” Orin grins as I step aside and stifle a groan. A nickname I’m not fond of at all. The room suddenly feels ten times smaller with everyone crammed inside.
Ivy’s serious gaze collides with mine for a breath. “If you have time, I’d like to see if you could search for anything regarding the army’s movements—battle plans if he has any.”
“Weapons and armor too,” Orin adds, scratching the dark scruff on his face. “Anything to help gauge where he is on maintaining distance from Aurelia, or if he plans on another war.”
Though my face remains neutral, my stomach drops with unease. I only agreed to steal the map to search for my mother, but now they want army movements and battle plans? What happens if I find something?
Ivy’s eyes briefly shift to Rydian’s as he silently strokes his jaw, but now I’m suddenly feeling as if they know something I don’t.
All I can do is nod, eager to get this over with.
Rydian and I clasp hands, and within a second, we arrive outside the archives near the two guards stationed at the doors.
The Veil is almost weightless, feeling so light it’s as if I’m walking on water, yet my head buzzes with energy.
An unwelcome curl of nausea rises, leaving me to slowly exhale through my nose in order to settle my stomach.
We remain quiet—not a word is said as I hold Rydian’s hand, waiting for the other two guards to exit. At any other time, I might have dwelled on how his hand comfortably wraps around mine, but now would be a bad time to get distracted.
A few minutes go by when the archive doors finally creak open, the two guards deep in conversation as they exit. We begin to move forward on silent feet, squeezing our way in just as the doors begin to shut. I breathe a sigh of relief.
Then, within seconds of arriving, the Veil flickers out, leaving me to whip my head to Rydian’s with panic on my face.
“Did the Veil just disappear?” I breathe, my voice trembling with fear. “Please tell me the Veil didn’t just vanish on us?”
“Elion must have put a ward in here. It’s fine. We’ll figure it out,” he mutters, if only to convince himself. He’s suddenly lost in thought as if coming up with another plan at the last minute.
“I told you your plan was flawed!” I say through clenched teeth, and he throws me a glare, clearly not in the mood to argue.
The ward most likely protects Elion’s precious archives against anyone with magic. Although I’m trying not to panic, we only have fifteen minutes before the next two guards arrive.
“We need to hurry,” he snaps, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I’m going to die here.” My words drip with sarcasm, but I move regardless.
Scurrying across the archives on silent feet, I stop at the wall holding every rolled parchment since the beginning of Elion’s rule. And it’s a lot.
Quickly thumbing through them, I sift over dozens of rolled papers, pulling on the corners for anything that resembles a map. Nothing.
Rydian follows closely behind, going through the other side at record speed. I comb through all of them, yet nothing comes close to resembling a castle map. Just plans for cities, local buildings, and whatever future projects he has planned.
I remain standing, thinking of where Elion could possibly keep the map, especially if he has any hidden locations within it. I realize that he would be actively using it.
With a quick turn, I hurry to Elion’s desk, pulling open drawers for hidden compartments. Finally, I flip through parchment sprawled over his desk, scattering papers to reveal anything.
The movement of my hand stalls when my eyes land on a few neatly stacked papers with the duke of Alvonia’s name written on it—Ekrin Highcrest, one of his council members.
Ekrin is the only Aetheri duke who hasn’t married—every female in Alvonia groveling at his feet because of it. He came into his position roughly ten years ago at the age of twenty-four, making him the youngest Duke in Elderheim. But what does the king want with Ekrin?
Unable to stifle the rising curiosity, I gently spread the papers, quickly scanning the documents when my brow lifts. A small grin tugs at my mouth as I read. Interesting, but not what I’m here for.
As soon as I neatly stack them again, the corner of a rolled parchment comes into view under a slew of disorganized papers, as if it was mindlessly tossed aside. My breath catches in my throat when I see the label written on the back corner—Castle Alvonia 112.
Is that the map? What does the number mean? Perhaps it’s the number documenting how many have been made over the centuries. I know sometimes they update the castle, so naturally, they’d need to update the map. I peel the corner back, confirming what I suspect.
A rush of relief washes over me before I glance over my shoulder. Rydian quietly rummages through the rolled parchment on the wall—occupied. Then I glance down at my hands as I’m suddenly met with a decision and swallow. Dread curls in my gut.
I have to make a decision.
Stealing this map will set in motion a future I’m not sure I want. Is it what I want? A future in a realm I know nothing of, heir of Aurelia—future queen? Or a king’s assassin, killing on demand whenever ordered?
This is my home, isn’t it?
We have minutes before the guards arrive, and I chew my lip, stuck between the tug to stay in Elderheim or wanting something more in Aurelia.
Then something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye, forcing my gaze down. One of the drawers is cracked open, catching shiny sparkles whirling in the low light. My brows pinch when I lean in get a better look, as if it’s calling to me—
“Did you find anything?” Rydian whispers, breaking my focus. His steps stride closer, leaving me to quickly fix the king’s desk and turn to Rydian with a tight smile. And suddenly, I’ve made my decision.
“I found it. We need to go,” I get out.
He hurries to my side when we unroll the parchment, revealing the entire map of Castle Alvonia. Rydian pulls out a blank rolled-up parchment and lays it flat next to the map. He hovers his hand over it, but nothing happens.
“We’re going to have to take the original,” Rydian mumbles, and my eyes flare at the realization. “I can’t access my magic.”
My teeth grind. “We can’t take—”
The archive doors begin to open, and we share the same panicked look before Rydian begins to roll the map.
We silently rush to the doors, and with a sharp intake of breath, hide behind them the moment they swing toward us.
My eyes squeeze shut, and I force my breathing to slow as I hone in on my training.
We wait until the guards walk through before stepping out, sliding past the double doors on silent feet. Orin has impeccable timing as I spot him standing across the courtyard, striding toward us, disguised as Ren. His eyes go wide, which means he sees us.
The two guards in the hall slowly begin to pivot our way when my breath hitches, but as soon as our feet touch the hallway, Rydian slams a hand over my mouth. We disappear into the Veil and remain in the hall. They can’t see us.
The guards face us when Orin calls out, catching their attention and accusing them of not doing their jobs correctly. Our backs slide against the stone as we calm our breathing.
“Hush, little fawn, we’re almost out.” Rydian slides into my mind.
In a single beat, we’re standing in the middle of the loft with the castle’s map and breathing heavily, shock settling itself into my core.
My frantic breaths heat Rydian’s palm as it remains over my mouth.
His hand begins to slowly lower to my shoulders, both of us too stunned to speak.
Did we just steal the map of the castle?
With wide eyes, I pivot into him as we step from the Veil, but he hasn’t moved.
His arm remains tightly wrapped around my chest, and I’m suddenly—painfully—too aware of him against my back.
For a moment, everything is silent except for the pulse climbing to my temples, blood rushing in my ears from the adrenaline.
But also something else I’m too afraid to name.
Rydian’s grip briefly tightens, as if he doesn’t want to let me go, and the heat of his chest burns through my tunic.
The logical thing to do would be to pull away, but the adrenaline rushing beneath my skin has my legs unsteady.
His breath gently grazes my temples, and for the faintest of seconds, I catch the way it falters as he peers down at me.
My eyes lift when his heated gaze meets mine, brows lowering as if he’s also sensed the rising tension.
The urge to say something tugs at me, but the words dissipate before they even get a chance to reach my tongue.
Then I part my lips in surprise, realizing just how close he is to my mouth.
And how much I actually want him to close the distance between us.
I actually want him to kiss me?
It was just this morning when I hesitated, leaving me to pull away from him, as I was too afraid to cross that line. Yet for some reason, I want it now.
Is it because of the decision I made in the archives? My decision to suddenly choose Aurelia over Elderheim?
His gaze shifts to my lips like he’s sensed where my thoughts landed, and my breath catches in my throat, thrown from the unexpected tension between us. Is he going to kiss me?
The pull of his mouth has me wanting to lean in when the hand secure around my chest lifts to my neck, as if he planned on pulling me in.
Then the sudden whoosh from Orin and Ivy’s arrival has me jolting back with wide eyes, swiveling my attention to the kitchenette.
I nervously rub the back of my neck when both Ivy and Orin’s brows pinch, eyeing us, expressions full of confusion.
The nervous trembling in my hands forces me to clench them as I realize we were just seconds from our lips touching.
Rydian remains planted when I shoot him a glance, though his heated gaze is already fixed on me. His expression and tightly clenched jaw tell me that he hates the fact that we were just interrupted, and I find myself suddenly wondering what would have happened if we weren’t.
“Now what?” I ask breathlessly.