I brushedthe memory aside and gently placed my hand over Gadriel’s, still resting on my shoulder. Closing my eyes, I leaned into his touch.
“You once told me you were looking forward to our time together,” I said softly. “I hope that still holds true.”
“It does,” Gadriel replied. “I’d think it was obvious, considering how I summon you each night.”
“I’m happy to hear it.” I gave a faint smile.
Gadriel slipped away from me, rising to seek another goblet of wine. As he dressed in his trousers and settled into the chaise near the fire, I took the opportunity to smooth out the creases in my courtesan robes. I poured a generous serving into a fresh goblet and brought it to him. He accepted it with a quiet nod, raising an eyebrow at its weight before taking a measured sip.
His restraint amused me, especially coming from a man so steeped in indulgence.
This was a common trait among many of Hyrall’s noblemen.
Gadriel broke the silence. “In a fortnight, I’ll be traveling to Torhiel.”
I already knew, of course. But I let a trace of tension surface, as if the word unsettled me. “Torhiel? Why?”
“As I said before, political matters. The fifth cycle of the treaty falls on the winter solstice this year, and it’s Hyrall’s turn to fulfill its end.”
My knowledge of the treaty between Hyrall and Torhiel—the land of devils—was limited. It had been forged centuries ago by monarchs long dead, a brittle attempt at preserving peace between our world and theirs. Even in Brier Len, there were whispers of Torhiel. Stories of cursed lands and sinful creatures, spoken in hushed tones by wary skirtsfolk.
I knew it wasn’t my place to ask, but the mention of Torhiel gave methe perfect excuse. “Isn’t it dangerous there? Wouldn’t it be wiser to send someone else in your stead?”
“This matter must be handled by the Crown,” he replied. “Traditionally, the king would attend, but with his attention elsewhere, the duty falls to me.”
“I see. And… how long will you be gone?”
“The journey to Torhiel takes nearly three months in winter. Negotiations with the devil kingdom could stretch that by several weeks.”
I felt my throat tighten. “So, six months. Maybe more.”
“At least,” he confirmed. “Preparations are already underway. I leave in two weeks. The kingsguard will be reinforced, and the city watch doubled. No one will enter or leave Hyrall’s gates without being vetted. With the treaty nearing expiration, devil-blood cannot be trusted, especially with the veil this thin.”
My pulse quickened. This was it. My chance.
If Gadriel took me with him, I’d finally be free of the castle. A year of playing the part, of biding my time, everything had brought me here. He had summoned me every night for twelve months. Surely he wouldn’t leave without me.
I silently prayed that time, that relentless force, was finally on my side. Freedom no longer felt like a distant vision. It was close. Tangible. Within reach.
It had to work. I would make it work.
“Take me with you, Gadriel.”
“No.”
The refusal landed like a blow. “Why?” I asked, stunned. “Please. Six months is no small span of time.”
“Your duty as my consort is to follow my commands.”
I sat beside him, lowering my voice. “Your Highness…”
“The journey to Torhiel is dangerous. It’s no place for women, least of all one like you. The lands are wild, and I won’t expose my favored consort to the threats of devilry.”
He could never understand that the dangers didn’t concern me. This journey to Torhiel was my one chance at freedom, and that was all that mattered.
“Must I be kept behind doors for half a year?” I said carefully. “You’ll want someone to warm your bed. The king has traveled with his harem before. This wouldn’t be unusual.”
“My answer is no.” His tone cooled. “While the king has taken his harem on many journeys, he’s never brought them to Torhiel. And if your concern is the state of my bed, I’ll take one of the others.”
