I chose another piece of scrap and started again.
Drop by drop, I worked through them all, until six armguards lay in a row across the bench, humming their low, identical song.
The door at the south end of the forge opened and Aelindor stepped through.
Chapter 24
Max
Ifelt the pull, unmistakable as ever, before I saw him.
Aelindor wore Virgo silver today, the winged maiden sigil in gold over his left breast. The heat and clamor of the Emberhold seemed to bank itself as he entered. Tall, powerful, silver hair catching the forge-fire like spun light. Eyes that impossible blue. Beautiful in a way that had nothing human in it—features carved from ice marble, the points of his ears just visible. Beauty like that should have been easy to look at.
It never was. It stole my breath every time.
And today something had eased in him. He looked lighter, as if, for once, the weight he carried had set itself down somewhere out of sight.
Every blacksmith bowed. I came to attention and saluted. My heart pounded behind my ribs.
I hadn’t had a moment alone with him since the clearing, and that had ended almost before it began, when Lady Vaelith walked out of the trees. I still didn’t know whether her timing had been an accident.
If I let myself count her a rival, she’d count me one right back.
But there was no contest, was there?
I wasn’t in the heirs’ league and I knew it. Their attention still made me feel like I’d stepped onto a platform two rungs above where I belonged, waiting for someone to notice and send me back down.
Maybe it all came down to being an asset. The alchemist with the sentient metal and a dormant sabotage program buried in half the continent’s infrastructure. They didn’t need to romance me to secure my cooperation. Getting Missy back was motivation enough to put me on any battlefield they named.
Aelindor nodded to the room, then his blue gaze settled on me alone.
“Did you get what you came for?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
Six armguards, stockpiled in my backpack.
In the skate shoes I stood taller than him. I had to dip my chin to meet his eyes, which had been happening all week with everyone, but this was Aelindor, the highest-ranking officer in the fortress. You did not look down at an heir. It was too late to adjust my stance without looking like a fool, so I held still and hoped he didn’t notice.
“It’s getting harder to track you,” he said, mildly amused.
“Sorry, sir. I thought Frost told you.”
“I gave him the day off.” A shadow moved through the blue of his eyes. “Personal reasons.”
He didn’t elaborate. I didn’t press. I knew my place, even though I cared about Frost. One of the six armguards was reserved for him.
Fae were the most private of the species, their personal lives treated like classified information shared on a strict need-to-know basis. Shifters were the opposite. Rage, joy, grief, all of it unfiltered on their faces. Vampires hoarded information; knowledge was currency. Drakken’s people ran like human military—professional, compartmentalized, everything throughits chain of command. The Fae prince carried his sorrows the way he carried everything else.
Perfectly. And alone.
“Walk with me.” Aelindor’s voice softened. “I have a few minutes.”
“Let me change first, sir. It’ll only take a second.”
I was grateful, in that moment, for the training shoes in my backpack.
I skated to the bench along the wall, sat down, and switched out the blades for my regular shoes, putting the skate shoes back in the backpack. I stood up at my normal height, an inch or two shorter than Aelindor. “Ready.”