Chapter 16
Corinne hardly noticed the bitterness of the tea that morning, her mind preoccupied with the anticipation of Vera’s arrival. She’d found herself awake well before dawn again, and hoped it wouldn’t bode poorly for her alertness later that evening.
She turned her mother’s ring over in her fingers as she waited, having retrieved it from the top drawer of her nightstand. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to it, trying to quell her impatience.
When the knock came at her door, she jumped up from her bed, putting the ring away again. She paused as she reached for the door’s handle. Compose yourself, Corinne.
Vera’s face was such a welcome sight that Corinne immediately lost her composure and wrapped her in an embrace. Vera patted her back gently and urged her inside, shutting the door behind them.
“What news do you have to report?” Vera asked flatly, approaching Corinne’s little altar and studying the empty teacup.
Had she done something wrong in her ritual? Corinne’s joy faltered a bit, but she recovered quickly.
“I’m sure you noticed the castle has been locked down,” Corinne said.
She rattled off details of any additional protocols she’d seen put in place, the typical number of guards around the corridors, her training with Prince Aryel.
“He’s improved expeditiously, it’s quite impressive.
And they have found the place of origin of the would-be assassins who attacked us. ”
Vera turned, her brow furrowed. “They have? Why didn’t they send a message?”
“The queen said it was too sensitive to send by dove.” Corinne kept her voice devoid of emotion as she said, “They have connections to Cara Talle. The Captain of the Guard is sending a dozen guards there, and they wanted to request the aid of the Lightguards stationed nearby.”
Vera pursed her lips, the expression so familiar Corinne’s heart ached. She’d missed Vera especially these past two weeks.
“We’ll have to get word to them as soon as possible,” Vera said. “What else? Did you record the prince’s movements like I asked?”
Corinne nodded, retrieving a piece of parchment from a drawer in her nightstand and handing it to Vera.
“I’ve also kept watch for any suspicious behavior from those in the castle’s employ,” she said. “But I haven’t discovered anything yet—”
“That’s not surprising,” Vera said, examining the parchment briefly. “We think it’s likely a noble.”
“I’ve compiled a list of nobles as well,” Corinne said, a bit of hope lifting her heart. “To see if any may have connections to Nightrenders.”
“That’s not your responsibility, Corinne,” Vera said, her jaw tightening. “You could potentially rouse suspicions.”
Corinne’s hope deflated, more shame prickling up her body.
“Vera, I…” Corinne swallowed. “I overheard Queen Erina the other day speaking as though she were dissatisfied with the Lightguards’ progress on finding the Nightrenders and their sympathizers.”
Vera stared at her, her face passive. “I’ll let Mother Creita know.”
“Is…is there anything you can share with me to appease her?”
“It’s not our job to appease the royals—it’s our job to protect them in the name of Helaera. It seems they could use some prayer and self-reflection.”
“I just thought the Crown and the Lightguards were meant to work together under Helaera’s guidance,” Corinne said, frowning.
“Don’t worry about that. Just do what you were assigned to do, and we’ll handle the rest.”
Corinne chewed her cheek. “Vera…what are you not telling me?”
“That’s not your place to ask,” Vera said, and Corinne’s neck flushed.
She should have known better. After hesitating a moment, she stepped closer to Vera.
“How are you?” she asked. “I’ve missed you—”
“Please don’t make me do this, Corinne.” Vera interjected, her face finally cracking.
Corinne fell back a step. “I…what do you mean?”
“You are disgraced,” she said in a hoarse whisper, like she was fighting tears. “I told you to keep your distance from everyone here, and you let this place lead you astray days later. Days, Corinne.”
Cold, unyielding shame washed over her all over again.
“It was a mistake,” she said quickly. “And I’ve recommitted myself, these past two weeks I have kept my eye strictly on the path—”
Vera was shaking her head, disgust plain on her face. “I hope you have been recommitted these past days, Corinne, but from now on, my visits are in service to Helaera only. I can’t put my own soul at risk by being friends with someone like you.”
Corinne had begun to tremble. “Vera, please, I-I’ll pay my penance and—”
“I’m sure you will,” Vera said. “But I was friends with someone who kept her duty in mind first and foremost. You faltered at the first true test of your devotion, and here you are still seeking to do things outside of what you’ve been assigned.
Maybe you were right to doubt your place among the Lightguards. ”
Corinne couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. Surely this was one of her nightmares and she’d wake in moments.
“I’ll send word to the Lightguards near Cara Talle,” Vera said, her face smoothing over again. “And I’ll see you in two weeks.”
Vera left her without another word, shutting the door behind her with a soft click that hit Corinne’s ears like an explosion.
Her insides were hollow, as if someone had punctured her chest and emptied it of breath, of blood, of feeling.
She collapsed to her knees on the floor beside her bed and let out a ragged sob.
The fragile beast within her that had craved empathy from her only friend over her punishment reared its head and roared its grief. No chance to let Corinne explain, no sympathy for her pain, even if she’d deserved it.
Corinne had always fought the voice in her head that whispered that she never deserved the honor of the Lightguards, but to hear it said aloud, by her oldest friend…
perhaps it was right all along. Perhaps they weren’t just thoughts, perhaps they were her truest, deepest self, and now the world saw her for what she was.
Selfish, prideful heretic. You don’t truly serve Helaera. You serve your own whims.
She couldn’t even fight it this time; she just let the despair take her, cutting into her body and leaving her raw. She didn’t know how long she fell into the infinite spiral of her darkest thoughts, but a sharp rap on her door yanked her back to reality.
“You in there, Sunshine?”
Oh Goddess, it was late. Corinne scrambled clumsily to her feet, her muscles barking in protest after she’d been curled up on the floor for what must have been hours. She was already dressed, at least, and answered her door promptly. Aryel stood outside with a guard who looked deeply annoyed.
“My sincerest apologies,” she said, “I lost track of time.”
The guard mumbled something she couldn’t hear and stalked off.
Aryel watched him go and then turned back to Corinne.
He started to say something, then stopped, pressing his lips into a hard line before nodding and setting off down the breezeway.
Thank Helaera. She couldn’t handle him pressing her right now. Just get through the day.
Just get through the day.
Corinne reported what Vera had said to Queen Erina and King Theo when she brought Aryel to the throne room that afternoon, and could hardly muster a smile at the queen’s satisfactory praise.
A day ago, she would have been relieved, pleased even—she’d delivered news that once again eased the relationship between the Crown and the monastery, even if Vera had said that wasn’t her concern.
It all rang hollow now.
Instead of training on her own or going to find a secluded spot in the library as she’d done the past two weeks, Corinne traipsed back to her room and climbed into bed.
She wouldn’t let herself sleep for fear of losing track of time again, so she simply lay there, watching through the window as the clouds floated low over the mountaintops in the distance.
Perhaps she’d gone about things all wrong after they’d burned her, holding onto the image of who she’d been, or wanted to be.
Corinne, the most talented mage and fighter they’d seen in years.
Corinne, the Lightguard who would be given an assignment of high honor.
It was time for her to accept who she was, what she was.
Corinne, the daughter of a violent defector and murderer.
The trainee who’d started five years later than every other child in the monastery.
In her pursuit of perfection and her determination to prove she could be the best of them, she’d fallen abysmally short, been exactly what anyone would’ve expected of a latecomer.
Perfection and renown were not hers to achieve, it would seem.
Helaera, forgive my pride and foolishness.
She would have to claw her way back into the hearts of the Lightguards, earn their respect all over again, if that was even possible now. Regardless, that penance began here.
Eventually she forced herself to get up and shower for something to do other than wallow in her own self-pity.
She even washed her hair, meticulously applying her favorite cream to her curls.
Her hazel eyes were dull in the mirror, but the way her curls fell around her face after they’d dried for a while was quite beautiful.
At least if she felt wretched on the inside, no one would know by looking at her.
She adjusted her white and gold tunic and set off to retrieve the prince.
Every passing face in the corridors felt like a ghost. Or perhaps she was the ghost herself.
Would the rest of her days here just be spent counting down the hours until she could be miserable in solitude?
“Ah, Corinne!”
Corinne halted down the last corridor to the throne room, turning toward Captain Ekhana.
“Captain,” she said, nodding.
“There has been a change of plans for today,” he said.
“Several nobles’ children are gathering with Prince Aryel tonight, so your shift will go a few hours later.
The queen feels he’s safest with you, and though they won’t be leaving palace grounds this time, the last time he convened with these nobles… ”
Corinne didn’t need reminding. “Understood, Captain.”
“Thank you, Corinne.”
The warmth in his smile was genuine, and Corinne wished she could return it.
She watched him direct his steps the same way he’d come, greeting another of his guards as he went.
The guard caught her eye, then—it was Iliana.
She offered Corinne a tentative smile and a small wave, her freckled face hopeful.
Corinne turned away and walked on.