Chapter 11
If Corinne never heard a knock on her door in the middle of the night again, it would be too soon. She forced her sluggish mind into focus as she answered the door.
“Apologies for waking you, Corinne,” Captain Ekhana said. “But Cato is sick and I need you to cover for him.”
Corinne nodded. “Of course, Captain. I’ll be right out.”
Yawning, Corinne donned her shirt, trousers, boots, and sword belt as quickly as she could. Her appearance mattered little when she’d just be standing guard outside Prince Aryel’s door all night.
“Thank you, Corinne,” the captain said, nodding to her as she stationed herself to the left of Aryel’s door.
She settled in place and breathed evenly.
It would be so much easier to remain awake if she could read one of the books Nik had given her, but that would defeat the purpose of her keeping watch.
She’d gotten decent sleep the previous night at least, and hoped that and the hour or so she’d already gotten tonight would be enough.
The lock on Aryel’s door clicked behind her, and she whirled to the side just as his face appeared in the doorway.
“Fuck, you’re out here?”
Corinne gaped at him, summoning a bit of light to her fingertips so she could see him properly.
He was dressed in a dark green shirt that cut in a deep V, and a silver chain around his neck mirrored its shape on his bare chest. His hair fell on either side of his face in a roguishly handsome way, and his facial hair was freshly trimmed.
“Yes, your other guard fell ill,” Corinne said, remembering herself.
Aryel swore colorfully. He stepped out into the alcove and muttered to himself for a moment before putting his hands on his hips and staring at Corinne.
“I’m going out tonight,” he said.
Corinne’s throat went dry. “Where?”
He narrowed his eyes. “A gathering of nobles.”
“Oh,” Corinne said, relaxing. “In the castle?”
“No. In the woods.”
“The woods?”
“Yes, Sunshine, it’s where we go to get away from it all.”
Helaera help her, she could not let him do this. “I can’t let you do something so reckless.”
“Oh, you can’t, can you?” he asked, his voice low as he took a step toward her, bracing one hand on the wall to her right.
Corinne mustered her courage, not backing away. He couldn’t intimidate her into directly disobeying the wishes of the queen.
“I’m sorry, Prince Aryel, but I will not have you getting into trouble on my watch,” she said. “I…I will physically restrain you if I have to.”
A wicked smile spread across his face. “Do you promise?”
Corinne wanted to melt into the floor. She had no witty retort, only a fierce flush that ran from her cheeks to the tips of her ears.
“I—”
Aryel sighed heavily, the mischief fading from his expression. “Don’t worry about it. You win, Sunshine.”
He stalked back into his room, closing the door behind him, and Corinne exhaled.
She was confident that the queen and king would not punish her for physically restraining their son to prevent him from being foolish, but she didn’t particularly want to deal with the complications of explaining herself either.
What a relief it was that she’d been able to reason with him.
Only a few minutes had passed when a slam sounded from within his rooms, followed by a sharp yelp. Corinne burst inside, flying through the antechamber and into his bedroom, searching wildly for some intruder.
But no one was in his room—a bedsheet had been secured to the knob of one of his balcony doors, which had slid shut, leading over the railing and down the side of the castle.
Corinne sprinted to the balcony’s edge and looked down.
Aryel was clinging to a stretched-out blanket he’d tied to the sheet, halfway down the wall.
“Have you lost your mind?” Corinne whisper-screamed at him, furious and terrified of attracting attention all at once. “What in Helaera’s name are you doing?”
Aryel looked up at her as he scaled downward. “I’m…going to that party.”
“Why are you so determined to put your safety at risk?” she hissed, and he lowered himself the final few feet to the ground. A light wood sprawled to the south just behind him, his footfalls softened by pine needles.
“If you’re so concerned for my safety, then you’ll just have to follow me, won’t you?” he said.
Goddess, she wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face. He started to walk off toward the pine trees, and Corinne stepped away from the balcony’s edge, wringing her hands. She couldn’t let him go alone, not when it was her duty to keep him safe.
Helaera help me, I beg of you. Corinne leapt over the side of the balcony and gripped the sheets. Goddess, she didn’t want to fall. She made her way down as quickly as she could without losing her grip, all the while letting her ire grow.
Prince Aryel was the most insufferable, spoiled, impudent man she’d ever had the misfortune of meeting, and she would drag him back to the castle by that ridiculous silver chain around his neck if she had to.
She landed silently on the pine needles and hurried in the direction he’d gone, and for the first time in her life, she understood the impulse to swear.
There were no inoffensive words that came to mind as she summoned light to her fingers and tracked her wayward charge through the woods in the middle of the night.
A few voices carried through the trees up ahead, and she lowered her hand.
A dim light flickered in the distance, casting shadows on the trees and silhouetting a figure only a few yards in front of her. She hurried after him.
Corinne didn’t make it to the prince before he’d reached the edge of a clearing full of people sitting around a bonfire. He turned to confront her head-on as she got in his face.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sunshine,” he said, his voice low. “So you can stay here and brood off to the side, or you can lighten up and have a drink. Dragging me out of here in front of a bunch of nobles’ children is not an option.”
It was like he’d read her mind. Corinne glanced behind him, fuming as she counted over a dozen attendees, some seated by the fire, some dancing, a few paired off and speaking in hushed voices.
“Fine,” she said, meeting his self-satisfied gaze. “But you stay in my line of sight.”
He huffed a laugh. “Fair enough.”
Aryel swaggered off to retrieve a drink from a barrel that had been set up at the far end of the clearing, well away from the fire.
Several nobles greeted him warmly, clapping him on the back or grinning.
Corinne couldn’t make out what they’d said, but Aryel laughed.
She planted herself against a large tree, crossing her arms and scowling at the lot of them.
If anyone caught her eye, they looked away quickly, whispering to their fellows.
Corinne studied them all, wondering which noble family each belonged to. Perhaps one of these nobles was the spy, and here Aryel was amongst them, not a care in the world.
Quiet footsteps approached from her left, and Corinne turned just as a familiar face smiled at her.
“You’re Catherine, aren’t you?” Lana asked, that golden hair of hers pulled back into a long braid.
She wore far more casual attire tonight than when Corinne had first met her, dressed in a fine purple tunic and black trousers.
She was the daughter of Nora and Calin Riann, nobles with land to the southwest, far from the border to the Shadowlands.
Unlikely to have connections to Nightrenders, but still, Corinne narrowed her eyes at her.
“Corinne,” she corrected.
Lana’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I’m terrible with names.”
Corinne looked away from her, finding Aryel again. He was seated on a large log with two other men, deep in conversation.
“You certainly can’t keep your eyes off Aryel.”
Corinne ignored the heat that crept up her neck, giving Lana a withering look. “It’s my sworn oath to watch him.”
Lana giggled. “Oh, come on, nothing’s going to happen to him out here. Here.” She held out a cup filled with Helaera-knew-what, and Corinne frowned at her.
“No, thank you,” Corinne said.
Lana shrugged. “Suit yourself, Catherine.”
Corinne’s blood boiled beneath her skin. Aryel was a vexing brat, but something about Lana felt rotten. Even the tone of her voice when she spoke to Corinne was sickly sweet, laced with poison. Corinne tried to breathe deeply, returning her attention to Aryel.
He was walking toward her, his mouth twisted into a frown.
“Why don’t you come sit with us?” he asked, nodding toward his friends. They gave Corinne a friendly wave, and she raised an eyebrow.
“Why?”
“Because watching you stand here like you’re going to stab everyone is making it difficult to relax,” he said, all antagonistic pretenses gone. “Come on. They’re not going to bite you.”
Corinne scanned the clearing once before uncrossing her arms. “All right.”
They strode back to Aryel’s friends, who greeted Corinne warmly.
“I’m Elys,” one of them said, holding out his hand.
“Petros,” the other man said as Corinne shook Elys’s hand.
She couldn’t recall their surnames since she’d read so many, but she would check her list again later.
They both had the look of carefree noble sons; Elys with his light brown face peppered in freckles, offering a full-lipped smile, and Petros with an impressively straight nose and defined muscles rippling beneath sepia skin.
Not that Corinne had met many nobles’ sons, but if she’d been asked to imagine them, these two would be it.
“This is Corinne,” Aryel said, and a low, slow warmth spread behind her ribcage. He’d never said her name before.
“How’s it been following this one around?” Elys asked, slipping to the grass and fully lounging back, one arm behind his head, propped on the log.
Corinne took a seat on the log in front of them, folding her hands on her knees.
“A nightmare, I’d wager,” Petros said, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s why my father’s never assigned me a guard; if I die, I die.”