He runs a hand through his hair, a sigh escaping his lips. “What if I make a deal with you?” he asks, still not looking at me. “You agree to remain calm and composed and strong for the next forty-eight hours, and I’ll do the same. We’ll get through hell together for a change.”
“Does that mean a united front?”
He nods.
“So we’re friends for forty-eight hours?”
He grips my elbow and urges me forward. “We’re going to miss breakfast altogether if we don’t hurry.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes,” he whispers, softer than he needs to. That voice – that new tone – it weakens my sudden resolve. “Yes, for forty-eight hours. Gods know what we’ll be after that.”
The moment I walk through the towering double doors twenty-two hallways and sixteen staircases from our secret pact, I wish there was some way for me to disappear. The setting is too familiar. Thousands of eyes. Hundreds of voices. Everything silent the moment I enter.
Everyone is looking at me. At my hair. My dress. My eyes, in which the dark rings of Wild ancestry, are absent. And my shoulder – where the ostracized symbol is securely hidden. They know what I am.
A soft brush of heat lingers over my fingers for a brief moment.
I’m not alone.
Shade gives the room a single once-over, the softness disappearing from his features and replaced with the familiar dark, brooding gaze of a dangerous predator. I follow him to a far corner of the giant dining hall where he picks out an empty table. It is piled high with breads. Fruit. Meats.
Shade sits down and fills his plate. I hesitate. He gestures for me to sit opposite of him. I lower myself onto the bench, aware of all the eyes boring into the back of my skull.
“Don’t look at them,” Shade mumbles through a mouthful of buttered bread. “They don’t deserve the satisfaction or your efforts. Use what energy you have to eat. I guarantee you you’ll need it when you meet his highness.”
As I spread a red-colored jam over a piece of soft bread, I realize I haven’t asked him anything about the king. And, from what Lucius insinuated, it seems like Shade and the king were well-acquainted.
“What’s he like?” I ask in a low voice. I’m no fool to believe people aren’t listening.
“I have no opinion on the man.” Shade takes a drink from his goblet. He notices my irritation and leans forward. “Honestly? The man is a drunk. He’s a coward. He’s useless as a ruler. And he’s a bit of a dick. Is that what you want to hear? Or should I say he’s the greatest ruler that our land has ever had, and he’s got a big heart for the people and for outsiders like yourself. I would be lying and you would hate me for it, yes?”
I nod absently.
“King Arkran values those who have something he wants. He valued Axle for his wisdom about shadow characteristics so he tried to charm him into joining his personal court as an adviser.”
“Axle didn’t tell me that.”
“Of course he wouldn’t. He’s not proud of that day.”
“Why?”
Shade shakes his head. “It is not my place to tell that story. Ask him yourself. You’re unusually skilled at discovering our secrets.” I don’t miss the vague sense of anger in his words. “My point is, you better have something that the king is interested in.” He sits back and stuffs a piece of meat in his mouth, signifying the conversation is over.
“Or what?”
“Or you have no worth to him. And we both know what happens when something has no worth, don’t we?” His gaze hardens. “They throw it out.”
I lean back. “There really is no difference between this land and Kelba, it seems.”
The corner of Shade’s lips twitch. “Oh, there’s a difference,” he says. “At least – here – we don’t banish you to Kelba.”
I don’t know whether to kick him beneath the table or glare at him. So I do both.
He grunts, but doesn’t reach down to rub the sore spot. And I know it is sore.
“Nice one,” he hisses between clenched teeth.
“Leave sarcasm to Axle from now on. You’re bad at it.” I take a sip of my water.
“I’m kind of out of practice,” Shade mutters. He leans across the table on his forearms, inches from my face, and whispers, “But I’m not bad at other things, am I, Kyla?”
The pulsing heat that rises in my neck – in my face – also takes my vocal abilities. “I . . . I . . . w-what are you saying?”
The corners of his lips turn up into a half-smile. “Do I have to remind you?” His gaze flickers to my mouth.
“You do and I’ll . . .”
He sits back in a normal position again. “It seems I’m recovering my former skills.”
“Oh?” I raise a brow. “What other skills could you possibly have?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.”
He shrugs. “Maybe I’ll show you sometime.”
“Don’t mind him. His skills hardly compare with mine.” Axle sits down next to me and I shift further down the bench to give him space. He grabs a handful of fruit off the table and begins to shove it in his mouth hungrily. “I lost sight of you guys. What took you so long?”
“I see you’ve forgotten your table manners,” I reproach.
“Never had them,” he retorts and takes a gigantic bite out of a juicy peach. He offers the oozing fruit to me. I shake my head. He shrugs and takes another large bite before he’s even swallowed the first one. Orange juice dribbles through his lips.
“You’re disgusting.”
“A minor characteristic, I assure you. My good looks far outweigh my bad habits. Wouldn’t you say, Shade?” He flips the corners of his blonde hair, which he’s combed for once, and bats his eyelashes.
Shade shakes his head, but doesn’t growl like he normally does. Instead, his lips twitch.
“You should smile, Shade.”
He looks at me. “What?”
“Smile if you want to. Laugh if you want to. Trust me, we won’t judge you even if you look positively horrible.”
He recognizes my words for what they are – a silent challenge. “Are you saying I have a bad smile?”
“Well, why else would you refuse to let us see it? Are your teeth rotten?”
He narrows his eyes at me and a corner of his lips turns up into a smirk. “You know, firsthand, that my teeth aren’t rotten, Kyla.”
Axle stops chewing for a moment and stares at my flushed cheeks and Shade’s amused eyes. “Am I missing something?”
I jump at the chance to change the subject. “No. We both know that an intelligent lad like yourself doesn’t miss anything. Am I right?”
“Trying to make me admit I’m on the same level as your primitive mind. Clever, Kyla. Very clever. Fine. I yield.” He winks. “For now.”
“If we’re talking about primitive, would you mind shoving that ragrartan tail back in your mouth. It’s not a good accessory to your face at all,” Shade pleads.
Axle stares at him. “Shade . . . did you just use sarcasm? You did. Holy shit! You do know what it is!”
Shade bursts into laughter. I burst into laughter. Axle bursts into laughter.
And, for a moment, we’re perfectly normal human beings without a care in the world.
The bell, signaling breakfast is over, chimes loudly above my head.
“I suggest you go to your usual place,” Axle says to Shade as we stand, “and wait for the summons. I met someone in the hallway who’s very eager to see you.”
“Appreciate the warning,” says Shade. He rests a hand on my elbow. “Come with me.” We leave Axle behind us and head for the double doors.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You’ll see,” he whispers.
“Shade! Oh, Shade!” the high-pitched, albeit feminine, voice stops us both in our tracks. Soft, clipping footsteps echo along the hallway as the girl approaches us from behind. “Shade, you’re back. I was loo
king all over for you. People said you were in the dining hall. Then they said you were in your rooms. Then they said you were in the city. I’ve been rushing around all morning. I haven’t even eaten. You should have seen the guard’s face when I walked past him. He was like ‘your majesty, can I help you’ and I was like ‘oh, goodness me, I must find Shade’ and he was like ‘who’ and I said . . . Who is this?”
We’ve turned around. I swear I’m face-to-face with a portrait of the “goddess of beauty” hanging in Master Rolfe’s library. The girl’s cheekbones are chiseled and outlined in rosy color. Thick lips, the color of cherries, curl up as she peruses me with aqua-blue eyes outlined in thick, black eyeliner. Her blonde hair is frizzled and curled in a unique style I don’t recognize.
She doesn’t wait for Shade to answer her. “Oh, I know. It’s the Kelban outsider everyone’s been talking about. I swear, no one has talked about anything else. Are you assigned to watch it? How scandalous. They can’t stick one of our land’s best warriors with such a low duty. I shall talk to my father about this. Perhaps he can assign it a guard more suitable.”
I hate her. I want to rake my nails across her face. And if she calls me “it” one more time I swear, to the gods, I’ll do it.
Shade’s hand tightens at my elbow. “She is Lady Kyla Kelonia Bone, and I am not guarding her. I am accompanying her.”
That steals the words long enough from the girl’s mouth for Shade to say, “Kyla, this is princess Arene, King Arkran’s youngest daughter.”
I stare at her.
Princess Arene shivers. “She’s making me very uncomfortable.”
“I have that reputation,” I respond icily.
The princess’s eyes widen the tiniest bit. “It talks.”
“Relentlessly,” Shade adds. I glare at him but he shrugs innocently.
“A feat all primitive Kelbans like myself are capable of achieving, I promise you, highness.” I keep my voice silky smooth and polished, a voice I haven’t harnessed since my days as a High Lord’s daughter.
“Oh.” Princess Arene gives me a long, slow once-over from my shoes to my hair, her eyes resting a second longer at my shoulder which, gods be thanked, is covered. “The stories about the Kelbans are quite scandalous. Has it tried to eat anyone yet, Shade?”
“I haven’t found anyone in this land suitable for my appetite,” I answer her question before Shade has the chance to open his mouth. I lavish a slow once-over of her too, and lick my lips. “Until you, that is.”
Her face reddens and she looks at my companion. “Shade, are you going to let her talk like that to me?” she snaps. She reaches out and grips his arm with her manicured hand. I watch him flinch at the connection and a cold, dark feeling twists in my gut.
“However, now that I’ve thought about it, you’re much too small to suit my appetites.” I sneer down at her beneath dark lashes. She is shorter than I by a good six inches.
“Shade,” she gasps, “punish it.”
He doesn’t move.
Her eyes narrow. “That’s an order.” Her hand tightens on his arm – nails digging in! He winces.
That cold, dark feeling inside of me spirals out of control and the princess screams in pain as, for no apparent reason at all, her hand twists away from his arm. She clutches her wrist between shaky fingers. Tears well in her eyes.
“Did you hurt yourself?” I ask.
She glares at me before returning her eyes to Shade. “When you’re done with it, come see me. I’ve so much to tell you. I’ve even arranged for a . . .”
“No, thank you.”
“Pardon?” Her brows raise.
“I said ‘no, thank you.’ I will be quite occupied with Kyla for the remainder of my stay in Smoke. We have much to discuss before she meets your father.” He bows, turns around, and continues walking down the hall.
I follow him, leaving princess Arene, baffled and furious, behind us.
“I’m assuming that was the ‘someone’ Axle referred to back in the dining hall?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know her well?”
“Many years ago.” He grips my elbow and guides me around the corner to a stairwell carved into the wall. It winds upwards to places I cannot see in the darkness. He takes a torch from the wall.
“Were you close?” I ask.
“She certainly thought we were.” The torchlight paints our flickering shadows across the stone walls in dancing images.
“So,” he says, pausing on the first step and looking at me, amusement in his gaze, “too small to suit your appetite? Just how large is your appetite, Kyla?”
“It fluctuates from time to time.” I glare at him, indicating that he’s included on the list and glance up the stairwell. “Where are we going?”
“To my lair.”
I expected a cave that smells like animal skins and rotten meat. Instead, Shade opens a hatch door above my head. I climb through and a soft, chilly breeze kisses my cheeks. When I stand up, we’re on a portico, much like the one outside our personal quarters, except there are no rooms to walk into. It’s just a portico built into the peninsula of the mountain. And there is no railing to protect us as we look thousands of feet beneath us to the city below.
“Watch your step,” Shade warns as he joins me. “If you get too close, a light breeze could send you plummeting to your death.” He sits down and dangles his legs over the edge. He pats the spot right next to him. “I’ll catch you before you fall,” he assures me when I hesitate.
I stare past the city below us to the forest beyond. It stretches forever, like an eternally green stripe along the hemisphere.
“What’s beyond it?” I ask.
“The wasteland your kind believes our land has become. Deserts. Poison. Swamps. Sandstorms. Monsters you only hear about. All the stories that are written in your history books most likely came from tales about that cursed portion of our world.” He sighs. “I’ve been there once.”
I stiffen. “Really? When?”
“Before . . .” He pauses delicately. “Before I was taken. With my . . . my father. You see . . . that was his homeland. It’s where he learned to fight like he did. Curse like he did. Survive like he did.”
It’s the first time he’s mentioned his previous life willingly. The first time he’s spoken of his family to me. The first time he’s even admitted he had a family.
“He told me he was going to make me strong. I was ten years old. We made camp halfway through that cursed land. I went to sleep while he stood guard. When I woke up, he was gone.” He shakes his head at the memory. “I’d never been so terrified as I was, standing there, in the foggy darkness, screaming his name. I remember imagining all the horrible things that might have happened to him – that might happen to me. It took me two days to find my way back to the forest you see before us. And when I did creep out of that living nightmare, naked and bleeding from several wounds, he was standing there. Waiting. Smiling. Arms wide open.” He blinks rapidly. “I attacked him. Screamed at him. He only laughed. I punched him in the stomach. He punched right back. And when we were both exhausted he took me back home and my mother carved a symbol into our doorway. A sword.”
I stare at him in awe. “That was cruel of him!”
Shade chuckles and shakes his head. “No. In his mind, it was the best thing he could have done for me. He was gone a lot when I was growing up. Always on some new journey or expedition. I stayed home and took care of my mother. Our house. Our small crop of potatoes.”
“You were a farmer?”
“A very young farmer,” he musses before returning to the topic at hand. “My father taught me how to survive when he wasn’t there to protect me. I owe him for that. I’d still owe him if I lived a thousand lives.”
He self-consciously rubs at his chest – over the scar hidden beneath the linen garment.
“You okay?”
“Not used to wearing a shirt,” he mumbles.
The shirt must be rubbing his scar
. That must be why he always wears a vest. It allows freedom. “My brother didn’t wear a shirt when he was training either. He enjoyed it, much to my mother’s chagrin. Noble ladies would always drop by at odd intervals of the day just to see if they could get a peek at them. You’d never believe how much tea they drank just waiting for him to walk in.”
The corners of his mouth flicker. “Your brother . . . tell me more about him.”
“He is a knight.”
“I gathered that. But why do you have his dagger?”
I take a breath before speaking. “He gave me the dagger when I was ostracized. That dagger symbolized his loyalty, his kinship, with the Celectate. The Celectate’s symbol is carved into the hilt.” I produce the weapon from beneath my long skirt and tap the blood-red symbol carved into the pommel. “As long as my brother possessed it, he was under Celectate Wood’s command. He served him. When he gave it to me, not only did he openly break the law, but he also publicly forfeited his knighthood. He said in the most base way possible that he no longer serves the ruler of Kelba.”
“What’s the punishment for such an act?” he asks.
I hadn’t given it much thought. It had never been done before. No knight had ever dared. “I don’t know.”
“What was he like?”
“He was a lot like Axle. Kind. Witty. Caring. He taught me things he shouldn’t have. Things that made him seem odd to his comrades. He taught me to fight as best he could. He taught me to curse when nobles weren’t looking. He taught me to raise hell, drink like a sailor, and to recognize shit when I saw it. He looked out for me.” There’s an ache beating in my chest. Hammering at my ribs. Squeezing my heart. A single tear slips down my cheek. I don’t bother wiping it away. “I miss him.”
Shade nods and stares at the forest. “I had no siblings. Often, when I was lonely, I’d watch others who did.” I’m certain he means Axle and River. “They seemed so close. Like they’d fight and die for each other. Sacrifice everything. I have no one, but myself to fight and die for.
“I had parents who fought and died for me. Bravely. Rashly.” The hurt in his voice turns to bitterness. “I sometimes wish I’d died with them.”
Ostracized (The Ostracized Saga Book 1) Page 47
