Chapter 26
Carys
After waking from a racy masquerade-themed dream about Callum, I fetched him from his post to bring my fantasies to life. The reality was far better.
“I wish life could always be this simple,” I murmur.
Callum gets out of bed and collects his trousers and briefs from the floor. “What do you mean?”
I roll onto my side, resting my head against my palm, my elbow propping me up. I stare at Callum’s toned body. “I mean … this.”
“Sex?”
Laughter swells in my chest then dissipates before it can escape.
“Well, yes and no.” With a sigh, I sit up and scoot back so that I’m leaning against the headboard.
“I mean, sometimes I wish I didn’t have to answer to advisors and councilors, and the whole damn kingdom.
I wish I could … I don’t know. Travel the realm or at least see something other than this castle. I wish I was free to fall in love.”
Callum goes still, just as he’s about to slip his shirt on. “You’re in love with me?”
“Don’t be daft.” I become suddenly interested in the bedcovers, sliding my hand over the duvet. Love is a fickle concept, but perhaps I’m in love with the idea of him. Not that it matters. I lift my head to him again. “It was a hypothetical statement. You know I have other lovers.”
To my surprise, he laughs. His body language is relaxed once more.
A series of steady knocks resound outside the door. “Sir Callum Ferrer,” Tiernan says firmly.
“Coming, Major Kilkenny!” Callum hears his own unfortunate word choice and cringes, sending me into a fit of laughter.
Now fully dressed, he fastens his sword belt around his waist again and heads to the door. “Before I go,” he says, keeping his voice down, “I know you have other trysts, yet when the mood strikes, it’s me you usually call for. That must mean something.”
I scoff. He’s wrong. “You better get back to your post.”
It doesn’t mean anything, I internally chant to myself. He’s wrong. He’s so wrong.
Images of roaring infernos burn at the back of my mind as wakefulness pulls me from my dreams in the morning. My amulet is hot—a remnant of my overactive imagination, no doubt.
Gods, I’d rather dream about Callum all night than about untamed flames.
The sun has barely made its appearance, but I lift my book of fairytales from the side table and sit in front of my fireplace.
It would be incredible to be a Skinchanger—to morph my features and voice, to become anyone or anything.
According to lore, some Skinchangers spent their days as animals, while others made a habit of impersonating other mortals or creating an alter ego.
I find my page and dive into the story of the All-Knowing Skinchanger.
A witch hired an old man to stir her cauldron for a year.
Day after day and night after night, the man stirred and stirred and stirred, never asking what lay within.
A younger apprentice was hired to assist the old man, but one night, both fell asleep and a passerby, desperate for a drink, consumed the potion within.
The passerby obtained almost as much knowledge as even the gods possessed.
But he’d doomed himself to being hunted for all eternity by the witch who so desperately wanted this knowledge.
The man became a Skinchanger, disguising himself as a handsome man to distract the witch. But once she became aware of his deception, he transformed into a bird, then—
As I’m about to get to the interesting parts, there’s a knock on my door. “Lady Alys is here to see you,” Callum calls out.
My brows furrow and I sit up, putting my book aside. “Come in, Alys.”
Alys enters, her smile bright against her mahogany skin. How is she so cheerful so early in the morning?
I’ve brought you something,” she says as I get to my feet.
She holds out a small drawstring satchel and I take it. The weight of it, heavier than I expected, settles in the palm of my hand. Pulling the bag open, I peer inside at a clay lid of sorts. “A jar?”
I open the lid and hold the jar up to my nose, inhaling. The scent is familiar—floral notes with something bitter. Fertility suppressant.
“It’s your brew, pulverized into a powder,” says Alys. “Now you don’t have to rely on me bringing it to you. Just one pinch.” She pinches the air delicately with her thumb and index finger to demonstrate.
Sealing the jar and the satchel again, I clutch it in both hands and nod.
“You know, Carys,” she says. “You have the power to alter your limitations. You don’t have to settle.”
I stare at her as though she’s sprouted another pair of arms. “We both know that’s not true. Rules are rules. Laws are laws. It’s been that way since the dawn of time. The Council holds the power.”
“For now. Change is needed, and it can start with you. Dear one, you break the rules all the time.” She smirks.
“Oh, do I? How?”
Laughter shakes some of her salt-and-pepper hair free from the pile atop her head. “Well one example is the very reason I’m ensuring you take that fertility suppressant.”
I roll my eyes.
“Two and three: Tiernan and Durvla being in your service.”
“I owe that man my life—and have you seen him with a sword? As for Durvla, I couldn’t stand by and allow a dressmaker to be thrown into the Veilguards. That would be a waste of her talent.”
“Her talent isn’t the only reason you sought to rescue her. You have a greater sense of justice than you give yourself credit for. You have the makings of a queen and the ability to change things for the better.”
Silence spans a few moments as I stare at the hearth, sadness settling into my heart.
“I don’t want to be queen. I don’t want to reign over a kingdom that the Council is too stubborn to realize is broken.
I don’t want to be motherless.” The last word barely makes it past my lips.
My jaw tremors, and I press my lips together firmly.
“I know.” She mulls over her next words. “Allow yourself to mourn, but then dig deep into that well of inner strength that you don’t realize you have. I have every confidence that you will rise higher than you ever have before.”
I glower at her, but it doesn’t sway her from continuing.
“Even when your lost ones are not physically with you, they stay alive in your heart.”
My throat closes up and I fear that if I even so much as swallow, I’ll start blubbering.
“Memories can be powerful—both in a negative and a positive way. I know it’s tough, but don’t run from your memories; reign over them.”
It’s utter drivel. “I have to prepare for the day,” I say dismissively. “I have Audience.” Although I already know I’m going to let Iywan take the lead on Audience again so I can go to the archery range. I need to unleash some of this toxic energy.
Alys nods and leaves me in peace, only for Callum to announce Ellynne’s arrival. As Ellynne steps into the room, I raise a brow at her. “Yes?”
She smooths her hands over the wide curves of her hips and arches her brow back at me. “I’m here to help you get ready for Audience?”
“Don’t bother,” I say, waving my hand and stalking toward my bed.
For a short stint, Ellynne is silent. “You have been missing Audience a lot lately. Don’t you think—”
“Ellynne, I am not in the mood for a lecture right now. So, either you find something else useful to do or you can leave.” I remain facing the bed, not wanting to glimpse Ellynne’s reaction. It’s a while before the door clicks behind me and I heave a sigh.
Peace, at last.