After all, Callum is one of them.
On Alyssium, I was able to separate Callum from my judgment of the rest of the Crown Guard. He was kind to the villagers, and he spent more time with humans than with Fae. On late nights, he’d share drinks with us at the tavern. He’d join hunting parties, putting his honed senses to use. He’d climb onto slick roofs to repair shingles for those too weak to do so. He took care of the village in a way he didn’t have to.
He cared about the people in Alyssium, or so I thought.
But here at the palace, there’s no denying that he is one of them.
Glancing up, I take in his armor. It’s clean. Not a speck ofblood or dirt. I’m used to it appearing a bit more worn, like it has served a purpose. In the Ley Court, guards walk around dressed as trophies instead of a front line ready for battle.
I look away and hug my stomach, trying to reconcile this change. Callum was one of my closest friends, and now it’s like I’ve never really known him.
My shoes squeak against the reflective floors with every step, filling the uncomfortable silence. I’m thankful today’s outfit is fit for training, and not another dress like the one last night. My leather pants fit snugly, making it easy to move without worrying the fabric will catch on anything. The shirt is dark-navy cloth with a brown leather corset that protects me around the ribs. Small straps loop at one side, where I could sheath daggers if I had any.
It puts me at ease to be wearing something closer to what I’d wear back at home.
Braids tie my long hair off my face, ready for whatever training entails.
“How did you sleep?” Callum asks as we near an intricately carved oak door.
“Better than I did in the cell.”
He frowns, but I don’t bother meeting his gaze. His loyalty is to the king, and I need to remember that. Father didn’t see that truth in Alyssium, but there’s no denying it in the Ley Court. Callum is a loyal soldier to a fault.
Which is why I don’t bother telling him I tossed and turned all night as something crackled at the edge of my thoughts. Or that each time I drifted off, nightmares brewed like I was back in the prison. Those obsidian walls stared back at me in my mind. Shadows I can’t seem to shake.
It’s like I’m free, but my mind isn’t.
Callum continues to watch me, so I roll my shoulders back and school my expression. My teeth clamp down on the inside ofmy cheek in an attempt to bury the sudden swell of panic and exhaustion. Of all the Fae abilities I could have inherited from my mother, I didn’t gain the keen sense of sight, smell, and perception. Not like those surrounding me now.
Thankfully, if Callum reads anything in my mood, he stays quiet about it.
The guards open the large door ahead of us, and fresh air breezes into the palace. For the first time in a long time, my chest clears as I inhale deeply.
The doors lead to a courtyard, which is paved in stone and surrounded by trees. A stunning landscape. But it’s the sky that catches my attention. Even on the warmest, clearest days, the sky over Alyssium is still slightly gray. It’s nothing like the shade of blue overhead. Perfectly clear and bright.
I take a deep breath, savoring the sweet scent of honeysuckle.
Magic is often measured by destruction, but this is magic to me. The scent of flowers blooming. Sunshine soaking into the ground. Life stirring.
Flowers dot the tree branches. Vines twist between them, enclosing us in. Alcoves line the edges of the palace, greenery climbing the trellises. At the center of the courtyard is a large training space with a knee-high stone wall encircling it. Greer waits for me with her foot propped on the wall.
Her armor is simpler today than it was at the ceremony last night. Not as bulky, even though it covers her from the top of her throat to her boots. Only her arms are bare.
Sparks fly as she sharpens her dagger, but she’s not watching me. Her narrowed stare is focused across the training ring, where another figure casually leans against the wall.
“What is he doing here?”
The corner of Wilder’s mouth tics up at my question. He’s shaded under a tree, but his aura crackles. His golden eyes hold Greer’s angry stare for a moment before flittingto me.
It might as well be a blow to my chest. His gaze pulls the air from my lungs. My ribs tighten, but I refuse to break his gaze.
I will not be the weak one. If he came here to intimidate me into failing, then that’s more motivation to prove him wrong.
Wilder lifts off the brick wall but doesn’t approach. His dark tunic and pants are similar to what he was wearing last night, but slightly more casual. A leather holster wraps one shoulder and arm, and there are four blades tucked in the front of it. A sword is strapped to his back.
Quite a wardrobe selection for a male who just escaped prison.
“Escaped? I seem to remember you being the one who let me out.”