“Good girl.”
It was well past midnight by the time Kieras retired, after talking the guards into bringing us a snack and ensuring I ate every crumb. I pretended to be too tired to stay upright and curled up in my bed as the Nest fell silent but for the white noise of the tide outside. I counted out a full ten minutes extra, to be safe, before I stood and pushed the curtain aside. No shuffling or whispering. No rustling curtains or blankets.
The lights had been extinguished, leaving the room to be lit by moonlight. I took silent steps down the center of the Nest, listening. Nobody stirred. I dared to peel aside the edge of the curtain concealing Kieras’s bed; she was fast asleep, white hair spilling around her like silk. Across was Azali’s and I hesitated before doing the same. If anybody could ruin me tonight, it was her. She was asleep as well, silent and peaceful-looking. I let the curtain drop and turned away.
I tried not to hurry as I crossed to the windows, lest I woke anybody. They were barred, sealing us inside like little birds. Outside, the stars stretched on and on for forever, an endless expanse of lush midnight-blue broken only by the dark, jagged silhouettes of the mountains. Moonlight caught on the waterfall, rushing like liquid silver. I wished in that moment that I could fly, just to see it all. Vanish into that soft darkness.
But that would mean leaving Tobin behind, and Aven, and Moray. Kieras, who didn’t deserve the life of a slave.
Raeth?
I shook off the thought and searched for any trace of Moray, but the sprite was always near impossible to see at night.
There—a little quiver of movement, like a living shadow, and the moonlight caught on its familiar form. It pressed one hand to the pane in front of me. At first, it looked like water pouring down the glass, as if the clear sky had suddenly let down sheets of rain, and I lost sight of Moray. The world outside turned into a rippling, dreamlike land.
It went on and on, and I stared, entranced by the magic and wondering how it would help me. I could feel every minute ticking past, if Moray was trying to give me instructions I couldn’t hear them, and I touched my fingertips to the glass. It was cold, wet, and I yanked my hand away. But Moray hadn’t moved, and I reached out again.
Further. My hand slipped through the glass as if it was water, like dipping into a cool pond.
And then my fingers hit open air, and I bit down a surprised sound before it escaped. What in the gods’ names kind of magic could sprites do?
The message was obvious: I shuffled forward. Gripping the vine-like bars, delicate silver weaving across the once-window, in my free hand, I held my breath and pushed through the water. It was like the first few seconds after diving into the ocean, cold and a bit salty, and then I emerged into air, hair and dress dripping and heart racing. My feet dangled over nothing, and I snatched at another metal vine with my other hand, clinging to them with all my strength as I scrabbled to find a foothold. Once I’d found one Moray spoke, glancing at me to ensure I was steady.
“Go, hurry. The quickest path is to the right. Aven’s there, waiting.”
“Moray,” I gasped, staring down at the emptiness below me. The jagged rocks that were so little from this distance. “What kind of magic do sprites have?”
It cast me another quick smile, eyes glittering. “I’ll tell you one day, little one.”
I didn’t let myself hesitate. I stepped to the next metal piece, slick with water. It would take half a second of faulty balance to lose my grip and fall, so I went slow, testing my hold on every sculpted vine before I continued. Between the water and sweat coating my palms, I was sure my fingers would slip any second, but they held firm. By the time I reached the edge of the window I could spot solid ground around the curve of the Nest’s outer wall—out of sight from inside. Moonlit rocks and grass waved in the breeze. It wasn’t far, but it wasn’t an easy step down. A short stretch of empty space separated me from it but it was lower than I was; I’d have to drop.
My breath quickened as I crept as close to the edge as I dared, one hand against the stone wall and the other tight around metal. My toes curled in anticipation around the vine I balanced on. The metal was so thin, and provided no real grip now that it was soaked. How could I step off it without plummeting straight down?
Raeth knew Moray could do this. He must have designed the Nest so even escaping this way was suicide.
“Go, Hania,” Moray urged me on. I didn’t let myself look back, or down. Only ahead. One breath to steady the tremor in my hands.
And I closed my eyes and let go.
Both hands pressed to the stone wall as if I could find a good hold, I jumped for the ground. For an instant, I was weightless, the night breeze rippling around me, and then my entire body jolted as I landed. My knees buckled and my palms hit the ground, teeth rattling. When the world stopped and I looked up, half expecting some guard to be looming, the night sky was stretching above me, clear and beckoning. My heart pounded like a trapped hummingbird, but I drew a deep breath of the cool air and swallowed a victorious shout.
I let myself savor the triumph before I got up, shoving hair out of my face. My palms stung with scrapes and a tear had ruined my skirt, but I was in one piece. I’d worry about the damage later. There was no time for that now, or time to sit and catch my breath. I ran, keeping the wall of the Eyes in sight and going through our path to the courtyard the other day.
We’d come this direction away from the Nest, the same direction the towering walls took me now. I was sure of it. But how far and out what entrance, I couldn’t say. So, I followed the curve of the building and watched for a sign of the courtyard, or guards, or anything at all. My bare feet were near-silent in the patchy grass and dirt, but I tried not to think about how the moonlight caught on the golden ornaments of the dress and turned them into beacons.
No guards in sight. Thank the old gods.
Another building rose to the other side of me, shorter than the Eyes and less graceful, functional rather than beautiful, and I slowed to study it. It was closed up for the night, but a few shapes prowled outside of it. Shaggy creatures like dogs, banded blue and black. The nearest gave a few barks when it noticed me, and I backed away and kept running.
The stables. Which meant I was close to the courtyard: the asketi Raeth had ordered to be brought hadn’t taken long to get to us.
The dotted tress gave way to the sweeping silhouettes of flowers and statues, the grass more trimmed and uniform, and I let every bit of tension in me fade away. Pacing along one of the stone paths was a figure, moonlight catching on dark hair and a posture I knew. Aven stopped and turned to me long before I reached him, but my voice had already gone. I stopped before him, staring. I thanked the gods I could use catching my breath as an excuse because I wasn’t sure what to say.
He studied me, blue eyes—those eyes like the sea, deep and shining with fear and relief—sweeping up and down me again and again. Searching. “You came,” he said. “You’re alright.”
I swallowed and nodded. “I told Moray I would.”
“I know, but…” He started to reach for my hand, thought better of it, and stepped halfway between us. “I wasn’t sure. What’s Raeth done to you?”
I was a mess—soaked through, prickling with goosebumps, covered in dust and loose grass, hair tangled. But other than the scrapes from my rough landing I was fine, though I didn’t know if he’d believe it. “Other than alternating between locking me up and making me wish I could get away with slapping him, nothing.”
A faint, cautious smile tugged at his lips but didn’t show itself. “I’d love to see you slap him. He really hasn’t done anything to you?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
“Good.” He nodded and repeated, as if to himself, “Good. I will get you out, Hania. I know I haven’t been able to do anything yet but—”
“But now that you’re marrying Marassa you can?” I didn’t mean for it to come out so sharp, and he looked down. My heart pinched.
“Marassa and I—it’s
politics. Not love. My family discussed it before I left. I’ve known Marassa a long time, and I was more than willing to take the lordship, but marrying her was different. So, I did what I had to.” His voice caught and he paused, searching for words. “I needed an excuse to be away from the Court long enough to decide what I wanted to do. I didn’t know how far it was going to go when I got involved with the humans. Then it came up again and I didn’t have another excuse. It happened too quick to stop.”
I crossed my arms and stared at him, half of me boiling with anger and half cracking apart. He’d gotten himself skinned trying to run from this, and now he was stuck right back where he’d started. “You lied about why you were there?” I asked.
He winced. “It wasn’t fully a lie. I do like my adventures.”
“You lied.”
“Was I supposed to tell you I ran from an arranged marriage and killed humans to stay out of it?”
That would have been worse, I wouldn’t deny it. But all I could think was lie, lie, lie. He’d lied. “You don’t love her?”
“Every noble is married for strategy.”
I waited for him to meet my eyes. He didn’t. I said, “I can’t say I understand the matters of nobles. I’m only a farmgirl.” I shouldn’t have been angry. It didn’t matter what the Court called him. What mattered was that I felt I could drown in the blue of his eyes, that his touch made my pulse stumble.
And that made my guilt worse when he asked, “Is that it? You think because you’re not a queen I don’t care about you?”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes but I didn’t let them escape. “I don’t know, Aven, do you? You say to trust you, and I do, but then days and days pass and I’m stuck there, and all I can do is wait for Raeth to demand I prance around the Court for him, or for someone to try to kill me for being human, and now this—and you didn’t even warn me, didn’t even send Moray to warn me, I have to find out from Raeth—”
He silenced me with one gesture, hands cupping my face, thumbs brushing along my cheekbones. His gaze bore into mine, deep and gentle. “It’s a show, Hania. I swear to you, and the entire Court knows it. No one believes I love her or she loves me. But I can use this to help you and Tobin. I can’t drag you out of the Nest. As much as I hate to admit it, Raeth is the only thing keeping you alive right now. It’s the safest place for you. Anybody else would…” He trailed off, closing his eyes. My heart cracked. “They’d kill you without a second thought. I’m not going to let that happen.”
I touched my lips to his lightly, not letting myself linger. It would be worse if I did. We couldn’t do that here, and I didn’t want to think about what might happen in the future. The choices we might have to make. “I know,” I whispered. And because I knew what was coming, I pulled him closer. He buried his face in my hair and let out a breath, and I squeezed my eyes shut to keep any tears or protests at bay.
“If I do this I can protect both of you, as long as I do it from a distance,” Aven murmured. “And when I have an opportunity I think I can get you both out. Hold on until then, please. Trust me until then. And don’t let them get to you.”
I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat so I could speak. “They haven’t gotten to me yet.”
“Promise me, Hania. Even if they don’t hurt you they will try to break you for fun. Marassa and Raeth included. Don’t let them.”
“I promise, Aven. I’m not that easy to break, remember?”
“I know.” He pressed a kiss to my temple, and it almost made my knees give out. “I’m sorry I brought you here.”
“I begged you to,” I reminded him.
“I shouldn’t have listened.”
I pulled back, forcing my voice to stay steady though it wanted to shake. “You did what you could. It’s not your fault I ended up with Raeth. And I do trust you, alright? I do. I trust you completely.”
He kissed me again, no feather-light touch but a real kiss that sent sparks shooting through me and made my head spin like in that sunny glade. He wiped away a tear. “I love you, Hania,” he whispered, his voice and words seeping through me. “It’s stupid and dangerous but I do.”
I tucked my head into the space between his neck and shoulder, closing my eyes against everything. The tears, the reality waiting for me. Everything that was coming. Everything except Aven and those three words. “I love you.” And because I could feel the night drawing on, I drew a shaking breath and said, “I should go.”
“If anyone finds you gone…” But his arms tightened around me.
I nodded and pulled away, and it felt like my skin was being ripped off. I wiped my tears away and forced the strongest smile I could. “I’ll see you soon?”
“As soon as I can.” He swept my hand up and pressed his lips to my knuckles, and when he let go I forced myself to take a step back. “Go, before you’re missed.”
I tore my gaze away and started back along the wall, back to the Nest, but felt his eyes on me until the courtyard was out of sight.
Even though my eyes were sore, and my breath unsteady and gulpy from crying, my palms stinging, the climb into the Nest felt easier than the climb out. Reaching the metal vines of the window wasn’t as difficult, no matter how slick they were and how precarious my grip. Like I was lighter—like if I slipped this time, instead of falling to the rocks below I’d lift into the air and fly away.
Moray gave me a quick, whispered goodnight before I went through the water-glass and crossed to my bed as quick as possible. Draped across the sheet was a dress—identical to mine, but clean and fresh. A folded paper sat atop and my heart thundered as I opened it.
A bath has been drawn. Clean yourself up. And perhaps next time ask to take the safer way to your tryst with your selkie. Imagine the ruin to my name if one of my girls was found broken on those rocks.
R
I didn’t know whether to smile or scowl at the note, so I shoved it under the thin mattress, gathered the clean dress, and headed to the baths.
I didn’t talk much at breakfast—I was sore and tired and had too much on my mind to speak. But I ate, and Kieras smiled when she noticed.
I knew she noticed the raw, red scrapes on my hands as well, but she said nothing.
The next evening, I watched the dancers. Spinning and chattering to the grand music, dazzling as ever, but the shine and novelty of the Court was beginning to wear off. There were too many shadows here to stare in awe at the jewels and baubles it offered. I did my best not to look at Aven, sitting at the head of the room beside Marassa. He was careful not to look at me, as well, and it tugged at my guilt and fear to see him speaking with her, so relaxed beside the woman who had enslaved my brother and thrown me to the wolves. All an act, but painful nonetheless.
Instead, I sipped the drink Raeth had given me and searched for the infuriating siren among the crowd. He hadn’t taken his place with the High Court in an hour, but other than sweeping past with the drink and a greeting, the glint in his eye reminding me of his note, I hadn’t seen him.
“What are you looking so intently for?” Kieras asked as she wandered to me, done gossiping with two of the other girls.
“Raeth.”
She lifted one eyebrow. “More drinks?”
“No.” I’d learned my lesson. “I need to ask him something.”
“Oh, Hania, we don’t seek him out and ask him things. He seeks us out and tells us. I thought you’d gotten that by now.”
“I did, but I have something to ask anyway.”
She laughed and patted my arm. “I wish you the luck of the gods, then. I did see him speaking to Azali—there.” She nodded and I followed her gaze to the two at the edge of the crowd, Azali curling around him like a purring housecat. But Raeth caught my eye and jerked his head in a quick motion that was a clear summons. Kieras patted my arm again as I started for them.
By the time I reached him, Raeth had dismissed Azali, earning me a poorly-hidden glare before she slunk away. I inclined my head. “Good evening, Lo
rd.”
“I’m glad to see you got the dress. Do try to refrain from jumping out of windows in it. You absolutely ruined the last one.”
I forced a smile in response, though it came more easily than it used to. “Thank you for preparing a bath. And for not…” I trailed off, searching for the words, and Raeth laughed.
“Not punishing you for sneaking out to meet with him?” I nodded. “I told you, you’re free to do what you like, provided it doesn’t get in the way of what I need you to do. Just try not to get yourself killed doing it.”
“What do you need me to do? All I’ve done is stand around and look pretty, and kill a sellye.”
He took my arm, guiding me a few steps further from the crowd with a smile that sent chills through me. “What I need you to do now, darling—and I think you’ll actually like this, so don’t look at me like that—is join me beside the High Court and have a nice little chat with our Queen’s pet.”
My stomach flipped and I lowered my voice. “Chat about what?”
“Whatever might help us.” That was all he gave me before he started walking, and I was helpless but to follow. A quick glance before we broke through the crowd reminded me of where I was and who I was here, and I smoothed my expression as we stepped up to his waiting seat. Raeth draped across it as lazy and liquid as always, like a cat basking in a ray of sunlight.
Marassa eyed me for the briefest instant but turned away. Tobin hung behind her as always, head down and shoulders tensed. I forced myself not to look at him. To watch Raeth instead. He ignored me.
“Lord,” Marassa greeted him, glancing over from the crowd. He returned the cool, stony smile, reclining in his seat.
“Good evening. Enjoying yourselves?”
“Of course.”
His gaze flashed to Aven, who looked straight ahead without blinking. “I’m curious, when will the ceremony be? I’ve heard nothing about your plans.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Marassa was the one to answer, and I was glad. I wasn’t sure I could keep my expression neutral if I heard Aven talk about their engagement. “We’re discussing the details. You’ll be the first to know them when they’re decided.”
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