“Cas—” she repeated, almost begging for him to stop. She didn’t need to know this. She didn’t want to know this.
“So Irene threw them in the dungeons, to ensure I kept my allegiance and remained in Rimemere. Her Court was livid, upset she wouldn’t kill us all and be done with it. A few were on our side, though I don’t remember who at this point.” He softened his grip. “Not that it matters.”
Sol hated herself. She hadn’t known this, and cursed Gaven for not telling her the entire story. Her chest ached for him, for what he had to choose at an age not much younger than his own niecewas now. Guilt pooled inside her at all the clueless mentions of his family. She hadn’t known the full story and made comments about it anyway.
With that ache, shame gnawed. Shame for the things her family had subjected other people to. It hadn’t just been her mother, either. Sol was learning this long line of injustices had been facilitated since the beginning of the kingdom, gone unchecked and unquestioned by the people meant to protect it.
“And now?” Sol’s voice was barely a whisper. As if anything louder would rupture the fragile bubble they both danced on. “Where are they now?”
Instantly, the Shadows dissipated from the room around them.
His features, however, were as fierce as ever.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “After your mother left, the nobility here didn’t care. I went to visit them one day, and they were gone.” He outstretched his tattooed arm, the leather around it groaning.
“So, tell me, Princess,” he said, running a thumb along her wrist, his grip now gentle. “Did those details change anything? Did that sound like a fair consequence for a man whose only sin was loving a woman too much?”
Sol’s mouth was dry as she tried to come up with something—anything—to defend her mother’s honor.
She came up utterly empty.
Cas gave her a sad, but bleak smile.
She could almost count his lashes, almost feel the silken waves of his hair against her skin as he turned away and began to walk to the library entrance.
“Cas, wait??—”
“Tomorrow’s trial is water. Wear something light.”
Sol watched the spot he disappeared from for a long time before making her way to her room. She was ready to throw herself on her bed as soon as she opened her door, maybe even cry herself to sleep out of pure frustration, when Penny swirled to face her from where she stood by a kettle of tea. “Princess??—”
Sol threw her arms around the girl andsobbed. “Penny.”
Penny didn’t know why Sol cried, but the sweet, sweet girl just patted her back. “There, there.”
They sat on the floor for a while, crying and talking and hating everything together, until Sol finally regained a sense of logic and told Penny she wasn’t safe here.
But just as she opened the window, everything clicked. As if she had only needed to cry herself dry to see the obvious solution, one she had been toying with all along.
Sol had a plan to save the prospects.
Thirty Eight
Aquarene’s Trial: Part I
WHEN SOL PREDICTEDher shift at the Hound Inn was bound to be terrible, she would sneak sips of ale throughout to bear it. It was perhaps the only way to maintain sanity. The habit often left her messy drunk by the end of the night, then begging for relief the day after.
But unlike those days, now she couldn’t just take a tea, stew, and a hot bath to feel better. As soon as Sol tried to pry open her eyes, she knew Aquarene’s Trial would be the most difficult thus far.
She inhaled with each attempt to pull them open, careful to let the sunlight in slowly.
When had she gone outside?
Last she remembered was being with Penny, formulating a plan together, then nothing.
Sol remembered nothing after that unless she wanted to hurl. When the nausea finally subsided and her sight adjusted to the blazing brightness, her stomach churned.
The salty scent of the ocean was the only familiar spark within her senses, calming and alarming her all at once. Every corner of her vision was blue. The ocean spread in all directions, meeting with the blue of the sky almost seamlessly. The waves and the clouds along the horizon almost mirrored the other’s ferocity, making it seem like reflections of each other.
