Chapter 14
Corinne’s entire body was alight with awareness as she rode through the streets of Vytanos past nightfall.
She’d been so tired she’d nearly given in to the temptation to sleep in a little village halfway between the monastery and the city.
The moment she’d passed the city gates, though, she looked around every corner, watched every flickering shadow.
There was no reason for anyone to come after her, but she was still on edge.
No one greeted her when she arrived at the castle. Thank Helaera. If she’d had to face anyone, she might have died from the shame of it all. She’d wrapped her arm carefully after leaving the monastery, hoping the bandage and her long ochre sleeve would conceal the burn scar.
Only a few servants traversed the halls as Corinne made her way to the south wing. At least she’d be able to sleep more before facing Aryel or anyone else again.
Cool air drifted through her curls as she walked across the breezeway, and she paused to look out at the city for a moment. Clouds parted in the night sky, revealing a crescent moon. It mirrored the Serra family crest perfectly tonight.
She’d disappointed the royal family, she’d disappointed the Priestesses, and she’d disappointed the Goddess.
She’d gone from one of the most promising new Lightguards to a delinquent in a matter of weeks.
Nothing had gone to plan since her Anointing.
She looked over the edge of the breezeway to the stone path several stories below. Aryel’s voice drifted through her mind.
Hells, sometimes I imagine pitching myself off the top of the castle…
She nearly laughed, and Corinne raged against the comfort that brought her.
She had shared far too much with him, had become too comfortable and undisciplined.
There was no reason for his laughter and his attempt to vouch for her yesterday to make her feel such warmth inside. He is my charge, not my friend.
Footsteps approached on the other side of the double doors to her right, and Corinne tensed when one creaked open slowly, a hand on the hilt of her sword.
But it was only Nik who emerged, his eyes sparking with familiarity when he spotted her.
“Corinne,” he said, hurrying toward her. “I wondered if you’d be back yet and hoped I’d find you here. How was the monastery?”
Corinne steeled her heart against his question. She could not become distracted again.
“It was fine,” she said. She straightened and inclined her head toward him. “Good night, Nik.”
She left him there, trying to ignore the pang of guilt at the hurt on his face.
It was in his best interest for her to distance herself from him.
She couldn’t be his friend, or Danai’s, or Iliana’s.
If her heart wasn’t strong enough to avoid softening around them, she would simply have to avoid them entirely.
Remove the temptation to stray from Helaera’s path.
She nodded to the guard posted outside of Aryel’s door, confirmed she would take over in the morning, and disappeared into her room.
The sound of rain pattering on Corinne’s windows as she awoke early the next morning was more welcome than she expected. Rain meant she could avoid training with Danai and Iliana with greater ease, postponing the moment she would need to sever herself from them more explicitly.
Corinne showered quickly and pulled her hair back at the nape of her neck with a leather band.
Rain also meant her curls would turn wild and get in her eyes if she didn’t tame them preemptively.
A few still hung around her face, but the weight of the rest of it wouldn’t push those into her field of vision now.
She adjusted the sleeve of her shirt over the scar on her arm. Rain also meant she could wear long sleeves without overheating. A bandage, however, was too bulky beneath this particular material.
Breathe, Corinne. No one would see it. She stepped out into the alcove with a renewed sense of duty and determination, holding her head high after relieving the night guard by Aryel’s door.
The prince emerged only minutes later. He stopped short at the sight of Corinne.
“Morning,” he said. “I didn’t know you were back.”
“I returned last night.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
Aryel raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
Where was this concern for her yesterday? “I’m sure. You’re safe, and I’m fine, and you have meetings to attend.”
Aryel snorted incredulously. “Come on, Sunshine, I think we’re past the aloof stoicism at this point. You were a wreck on the floor of my bedroom three nights ago.”
Rage flared up Corinne’s spine. “That will not happen again, and if you try to use it against me—”
“Goddess, I’m not going to do that,” Aryel said. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re not—”
“Don’t,” Corinne said, her voice cutting.
If he wasn’t going to let it go, she’d have to draw this line with him, just as she had Nik, how she planned to with Danai and Iliana when the time came.
“You got us into this mess, and I forgot my purpose. We are not friends; I am your sworn protector, and you are the Prince of Ashera.”
Anger lit up Aryel’s face. Good.
“As if the entire castle doesn’t constantly like to remind me of that fact,” he said.
“Perhaps because you need reminding.”
He looked like she’d slapped him, and Corinne pushed the guilt deep, deep down.
If this is what it took to get him to stop prying, then it was for the best. The hurt on his face morphed quickly into smooth neutrality.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, thought better of it, and turned on his heel to hasten down the breezeway toward the main corridor.
He let the door slam in her face.
“Come, Corinne, join us today.”
Queen Erina beckoned Corinne into the council room for the second time in two days, and Corinne kept her face as passive as possible. Today, she was the only additional presence in the room, no Captain Ekhana to act as support.
“What news from the monastery?” the queen asked, taking her seat at the head of the table.
King Theo sat at the opposite head, and the rest of the councilors joined them. Corinne kept a tight leash on her emotions as she thought back to her meeting with the Priestesses.
“They have simply reminded me of my duty,” she said. “And asked for details of the attack. They had no knowledge of the attackers’ identities.”
Queen Erina sighed. “I don’t know if that’s encouraging or somehow worse than I thought.”
“They held no dark magic,” Councilor Toro said. He truly looked so like Danai, with the same open, kind eyes and sleek black hair. “And our city guard still cannot identify who they may have worked for. For all we know, they were simply back-alley murderers out for some coin.”
“No, it’s too convenient,” Councilor Mika said, steepling her fingers in front of her mouth. “For there to have been a direct threat to the prince’s life and an attempt on it less than three weeks later?”
“All the more reason to figure out who these men were!” King Theo slammed a fist on the table, startling everyone. “My son’s life is in danger. Why are we surrounded by such incompetence?”
“The Priestesses have not been forthcoming, either,” Councilor Orvos said. “They summon their Lightguard to the monastery only to send her back with no real answers or information?”
“What we really ought to be addressing is the likelihood that we have a spy amongst us,” Councilor Dresden said, and the room fell silent. “Yes, we all know it, and no one has said it. But it could be someone in this very room!”
Corinne tensed, forcing herself not to reach for her sword. The silence grew for another long moment before the king shifted in his chair.
“A fair point, Councilor Dresden,” King Theo said.
“Then let us tighten security. All nobles will remain in the castle. All outgoing messages will be examined by our postmaster. We will close the gates and post twice as many guards along the perimeter walls. Same goes for the city walls. Twice as many.”
Prince Aryel cleared his throat, making his presence known for the first time. “I really don’t believe that’s necessary—”
“And you, Aryel, will continue your combat training in addition to your regular duties.” King Theo’s gaze traveled to Corinne, and she felt the color leave her face. “I hear you led him in a training session a few days ago. Good. Keep that up daily.”
Daily. Corinne bowed her head once and stared determinedly at the wall even as Aryel tried to catch her eye from the table.
“If we catch anyone trying to sneak away from the castle grounds without authorization,” King Theo said, standing, and the rest of them stood with him. “Then we will know they are up to no good.”
“A brilliant plan, my love,” Queen Erina said, taking his arm as he walked past her place at the table.
The other councilors vacated the room, bowing to Aryel before they departed. The prince had returned to his seat at the table.
“Well,” he said suddenly, standing. He didn’t even turn to Corinne as he said, “You heard my father, let’s go train.”
Corinne hurried after him as he headed for the exit, once again letting the door swing back in her face.
“Your Highness, it’s pouring rain outside,” she said, keeping pace several steps behind him.
“There’s an indoor sparring hall.”
Of course there was. Corinne suppressed a groan and then chastised herself. Stop being such an ungrateful wretch and do your job.
When they arrived at the sparring hall in the west wing of the castle, Corinne’s stomach plummeted.
Danai was stationed just outside the doors, offering Corinne a bright smile and a nod.
Their smile was so contagious it took immense effort not to return it, but Corinne bit the inside of her mouth and gave them a single nod of acknowledgment.
She couldn’t be Danai’s friend, but she didn’t need to be rude unless forced to.
Danai’s smile faltered a bit as she and Prince Aryel passed.
Two guards were training inside already, but vacated quickly at the prince’s approach.
It wasn’t an ideal fighting area, with its wood flooring and far smaller perimeter, but it would have to do for today.
The attendant on duty came forward to take Corinne’s sword and belt off her hands.
Aryel loosened the laces on his shirt at his wrists, rolling the sleeves up to his elbows the same way he had before.
The sight of his arms, of the muscle flexing beneath his skin as he adjusted his sleeves, made her heart falter.
What in the name of Helaera was wrong with her? She shook her head as if to rattle those thoughts out of her mind.
“All right,” Aryel said. “Last time I still hadn’t figured out that hold.”
Corinne nodded quickly. She could focus on that easily enough. Training was grounding too.
She stepped forward to demonstrate to Aryel again how to escape one of the more complicated holds she knew. It was unlikely some cutthroat would know such a maneuver, but if the original threat to his life had come from Nightrenders, they would be highly skilled.
He watched her with calm, quiet focus, and Corinne channeled her energy into the simple physicality of it all.
She didn’t miss his quips or exasperated sighs from the last session.
No, that would be an absurd reason for this dull ache in her chest. She didn’t notice the length of those dark eyelashes around his deep brown eyes, either, or the way his eyebrows pinched together slightly when he didn’t fully understand something.
“Ready to try it?” she asked, backing away from him, and he nodded.
Corinne lunged at him, taking him to the ground as gently as she could—this was just practice for getting out of the hold, anyway, and she didn’t want to hurt him. She wrapped her arms around his neck from behind and did the same with her legs across his torso, locking her feet at his left hip.
The prince froze for a moment, unmoving, and Corinne became acutely aware of his breathing and heartbeat, of her own as it hammered in her chest, pressed against his back. Another breath, and he still hadn’t moved. Had she accidentally hurt him?
“Are you—?”
Aryel shoved her left elbow up with his hand, breaking her grip and quickly twisting his body so he broke her leg lock as well. The moment he was free, he leapt to his feet, and Corinne sat up.
“Good,” she said, pretending she didn’t see the light blush that had crept into his cheeks. “You’ll want to practice being faster than that, but the execution was well done.”
“Right,” he said, shaking his head and blinking his gaze back into focus.
They drilled that same hold several more times before Corinne had him demonstrate the others they’d gone through the last time they’d trained.
Nearly an hour had passed before Aryel finally admitted he needed a reprieve.
He sat on the floor, forearms resting on his knees and his head bowed as he caught his breath.
Corinne thanked the attendant when they approached to return her sword.
“Can you teach me how to wield a blade?”
Corinne glanced at Aryel as he stood. “You want to learn sword fighting?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Aryel frowned. “So if we’re ever attacked in the streets again, I’m not utterly useless.”
Corinne could understand that, even if she knew it was more dangerous for him to get involved in a fight rather than let her handle it.
“All right,” she said. “Next time.”
“What, not now?”
Corinne looked him up and down, pursing her lips at his wilted posture, the clear fatigue he was trying—poorly—to hide.
“It’s not wise to train when you’re fatigued,” she said. “Especially not with blades.”
“You afraid to hurt me, Sunshine?”
Corinne mastered herself before her face could give her away.
Why was she suddenly having this reaction to him?
The faster she got these fleeting feelings of warmth under control, the better.
She would just have to do what she’d done the handful of other instances she’d found herself attracted to someone—ignore the feelings until they faded.
“I would be a poor guard if I harmed the person I swore to protect,” she said coolly. “So, yes, I’d like to avoid that. We’ll start tomorrow.”
Aryel’s face morphed back into that mask of apathy, and Corinne took it as a victory.
It was a weakness she could not abide. Perhaps training with a blade was wise for that reason too—she could avoid touching Aryel almost entirely.
Corinne would discipline her mind against it all, against his maddening yet disarming teasing, against her own childish inclination to make friends here. When Vera returned the following week, she would have no further shame to shadow their conversation.