Chapter 5 #2
Corinne caught the door that he let swing back on her and hurried after him. “Isn’t that part of your schedule? How will people know where you are?”
“They don’t need to know where I am,” Aryel said over his shoulder. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You can offer me plenty of protection.”
“But I—”
“Look, spare me the sermon, Sunshine,” he said, fully turning around and walking backward. Sunshine? “We can’t all be as disciplined and righteous as you.”
Corinne bit her tongue against the slew of retorts that came to mind. He wanted her to spare him her input, then so be it. Perhaps if she followed him in silence, he would speak less too.
Prince Aryel’s next destination was one Corinne hadn’t been shown by Orana.
He ventured down several flights of stairs before emerging into a stone corridor with dim lanterns.
She might have thought it was headed into a dungeon if not for the absolutely mouth-watering smell of baking bread that hung in the air.
Aryel stepped through a swinging door at the end of the corridor, and Corinne sped up to keep him in her line of sight.
Heat and noise and busy servants met her as soon as she crossed the threshold into the kitchens, which, unlike everything else in the castle, were a reasonable size.
The monastery kitchens were equally as large, responsible for feeding hundreds of Lightguards, trainees, and Attendants.
Though, Corinne had to admit, the smells coming from these stovetops and ovens were richer and more enticing than anything she’d ever consumed.
Aryel snatched several pastries from a basket and piled them onto a plate alongside some bacon slices.
One of the cooks turned around just in time to see him swipe a piece of toast, too, and playfully reprimanded the prince.
Aryel flashed him a smile and a wink, and the cook shook his head and turned back to his work, but not before Corinne saw the blush creep across his face.
The rest of the day passed in a series of hallways, servants bowing, and waiting outside doors while Aryel was in meetings with nobles or councilors. He’d thankfully kept his snide comments about Corinne’s presence to a minimum, opting instead for the occasional long-suffering sigh.
Stay the course. Be the Light. Corinne would not let this impudent man-child antagonize her into being ungrateful for this assignment.
This was her duty, her chance to truly prove her loyalty and devotion to Helaera; perhaps his goddess-forsaken attitude was meant to be a test of sorts.
Corinne had always excelled at tests, and this would be no different.
It was certainly a test of her physical stamina as her feet began to ache from venturing through the castle corridors, followed by prolonged periods of standing in one spot. She’d have to heal them tonight if she didn’t want to be miserable tomorrow.
A few nobles passed by, two of them staring at her unabashedly and whispering to one another. Her cheeks warmed. Just focus, Corinne. Though she was running out of things to focus on after she’d already counted the number of sheep in a painting on the corridor wall opposite her.
“Oh, fucking hells, I forgot you were out here.”
Corinne scowled at Aryel, who’d just exited the council chamber.
“Must you use that language?” she asked, the question hissing through her teeth before she could stop herself.
Aryel stopped in his tracks, turning to face her. He was close enough that she could see the mischievous twinkle in his brown eyes.
“Are you offended by swearing, Sunshine?” he asked, the glee in his voice barely suppressed.
It was too late to deny it now, but Corinne attempted anyway. She lifted her chin. “No,” she said, one hand gripping the hilt of her sword.
Aryel grinned. “Good,” he said. “Because I fucking love to swear. I wouldn’t want you to have to listen to the foul shit I say on a regular basis. Can’t have my hells-damned mouth corrupting your virtuous ears.”
Helaera help her, how was she supposed to protect this man’s life when she wanted to throttle him herself?
Corinne took a deep, steadying breath and plastered a mask of apathy onto her face. “After you, Your Highness,” she said, gesturing down the hall.
He raised an eyebrow and gave her a nod of concession, but before he could walk off, the door to the council chamber opened again.
A man with warm russet skin appeared, his dark gray robes nearly swallowing his slender form.
At the sight of Aryel and Corinne, he nearly dropped the load of scrolls overflowing in his arms.
“Oho, Prince Aryel, is this the Lightguard the monastery sent for you?”
“Ah, yes, this is…” Aryel paused.
Had he really forgotten her name?
“Corinne Anastos,” she said with a dip of her head.
“Lovely to meet you, Corinne,” he said. “I’m Councilor Toro. I believe I speak for us all when I say it’s an honor and a relief to have you here.”
“The honor is mine, Councilor,” she said.
He offered her a bright smile. “I look forward to continuing our conversation with Councilor Leta tomorrow,” Councilor Toro said, addressing Aryel. “Good day, Prince Aryel, Corinne. May Helaera bless you.”
Councilor Toro headed off toward the north side of the castle, and Corinne followed Aryel as he set off in the opposite direction.
The glee from before had dissipated, his body language rigid and his fists clenched at his sides.
He practically seethed with frustration, and Corinne wondered what had set it off. Perhaps he disliked Councilor Toro.
Figures. The councilor seemed perfectly respectable to Corinne.
Night had fallen by the time they returned to the breezeway and the prince’s alcove. Another castle guard was waiting at the prince’s door, ready to relieve Corinne of her duties.
“Well, I suppose I’ll see you in the morning, Sunshine,” Prince Aryel said, every word dripping with resentment.
Corinne forced a tight smile as she paused several paces from his door and bowed, every part of her raging against this show of deference and respect.
The prince snorted a laugh. “That’s the worst fucking bow I’ve ever seen.”
Corinne swallowed her annoyance. “Apologies, Your Highness, I’m not used to being in the presence of royalty.”
“Clearly,” Aryel said, eyeing her up and down. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t give a damn if you bow to me or not.”
Corinne waited until he’d disappeared into his room before breathing, afraid her exhale would give away her chagrin.
She was, mercifully, allowed to sleep after the prince retired to his chambers.
If anything were to go wrong in the night, she was close enough to provide aid.
Corinne almost wished it were the other way around—if she guarded his room at night, she wouldn’t have to follow him around and listen to him talk.
She scrubbed away the day in her private shower, which was, like everything else here, designed with peak luxury in mind.
The tiles lining the walls of her washroom glittered in all sorts of colors until the steam from the hot water clouded them.
There were at least a dozen bars of soap to choose from, and she went with one that smelled like lemongrass and basil, wrapping it in a cloth and breathing in deeply as the scent enveloped her.
With a great sigh, she let her forehead hit the tiles, closing her eyes as the hot water washed over her head and down her body.
Tomorrow will be better.