Without wings, I’m forced to climb hundreds of steps to the pearlescent gates, where a horde of Tuath have gathered.
Thick clouds hang overhead, hiding the castle from view. A pair of guards wait on the other side of the closed gates, their faces stern, jaws flexed, and hands on the pommels of their swords.
“Please,” a Tuath woman cries, gripping the gates with white knuckles. “Please, let me through. I must speak with the king.”
The others behind her grumble their assent, a few waving their fists in the air.
“The king only meets with your kind on the fifteenth of the month,” says the guard on the right. “Come back then.”
The fifteenth? I can’t wait until the fifteenth.
“My little lad won’t survive until the fifteenth,” the woman sobs.
“Let her through!” a man near me shouts, making me jump.
“The king must make an exception!” bellows another. “There is wasting sickness in the burrows!”
The burrows are caves near Kumulus City, where the poorest Tuath reside. I’ve never been there myself but have heard horrific stories of extreme poverty.
Suddenly, my plight doesn’t seem as dire. I may not have much money, but at least I have some, and I still have my health. If I cannot get into the castle today, perhaps I can find more affordable lodging to make my money last.
The guard on the right shifts his weight, his dark eyes scanning the crowd. “The king does not make exceptions.”
Those gathered turn away, their faces gaunt and eyes hollow as they bump past. I press forward with my heart in my throat.
The two guards watch me, their expressions darkening with each step I take. Stars, they’re intimidating—and huge. I have to crane my neck to meet their frowns.
Wrenching my hands together, I don’t stop until the toes of my old boots meet the gates. I doubt smiling and batting my lashes at these two will help, but it certainly can’t hurt. “Hello,” I say with a brittle smile. “My name is Allette Rittey, and I’ve come to request an audience with Prince Senan Vale.” Speaking his name aloud is like taking a breath of fresh air after drowning.
The guard on the left rolls his eyes. “Not another one,” he mutters. “The prince does not accept visitors.”
I’ve come too far to back down now. “Surely he’ll make an exception for me.” I hold out my palm for them to see the silver scar there. “I’m his mate.”
The guard on the right smirks. “You think you’re the first to cut her hand in a pathetic attempt to gain access to our prince?”
Other women have claimed to be Senan’s mate? I mean, I knew he was popular in the kingdom, but to go to such duplicitous lengths is madness. “If you were to give him my name, you’ll see I’m telling the truth.”
One nudges the other with his elbow. “What does he do to these women?”
“Dunno. But I’d love to find out.” The other man looks back at me, his eyes as hard and unyielding as these gates separating us. “Look, you’re the fifth woman to come looking for the prince today and you’ll hardly be the last. Do yourself—and us—a favor and forget you ever met him.”
How am I supposed to forget the prince when our souls have been star-bound? I’ve thought him dead for four years, tried to move on with another, and still my heart and soul yearn for him.
Seeing no other option, I turn away. The air grows colder with each step as I descend back to the city far below. I can’t give up. Not when I’m so close.
But until Senan can save me, I must find a way to save myself.
That starts with earning enough money to survive.
I need to find work.
On my way back to the inn, I stumble upon an employment office. A man with a burly beard and deep-set eyes takes my name and details before telling me to head straight to the textile mill, a gargantuan gray building situated on the banks of the River Solace, whose towering smokestacks pump more darkness into the sky above.
A crowd of women wait at the high black gates, all of them in similar attire to mine. Not one returns my hopeful smile. No matter. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to make money.
The gates screech as they ease open, revealing two men with thick, leather-bound ledgers waiting on either side of a path. Falling in line, I add my signature and follow the queue down to the factory.
For four years, I’ve survived in the human realm. Surely this will be easy in comparison. There are children who look at least half my age heading into the same factory.