I lunge for Hilduin. For a moment, I think I’ve got her. Then the air shimmers metallic and she’s six inches to the left, leaving me stumbling and trying to catch myself.
“You still like up like a bonfire before you overcommit,” she challenges, sweeping my legs with a forceful kick.
That one, I’m expecting. Before she finishes the sweep, I lock onto her leg and pull her down with me, the wind knocked out of her as she lands on her back.
“And you can’t resist bringing someone down a peg,” I grunt, both of us racing to be the first one back on our feet.
She’s nimbler and faster, up and ready again in a matter of seconds. Meanwhile, I’ve put too much energy behind too many missed blows. I’m winded, over-exerted, and running on pure spite and grit.
From the outskirts of the gathered crowd, I hear some chuckling and murmurs, I try to drown it out, but something filters through.
“Guess we know why he chose a human pet, eh? Can’t even keep up with the captain.”
There’s a howl of laughter and I see red.
“Must be easier for a Wilds-touched to tame a human.”
More laughter.
It’s the last thing I hear before a roar of rage fills my ears. The distance between me and the hecklers closes in the blink of an eye, and nothing has felt more right than driving my fist toward the ground again and again. Not for a long time.
Hands and claws grab at me, but it’s a steel grip around my wrist that finally breaks through the haze.
Hilduin drags me away, pulling me aside while the shaken guards tend to their comrade and eye me like a rabid hound.
I feel like one.
“What’s going on with you?” Hilduin asks under her breath, her hard eyes full of concern. Everything about Hilduin is severe, from the sharp angles of her face to the short crop of spiky black hair and horns she always keeps filed to a point. But right now, she looks softer, and that’s what really shakes me out of it.
“You don’t lose it like that. Out of all the Wardens, you’ve always been the best at keeping your cool.”
I’m still trembling with fury, trying to take measured breaths so I don’t go back to finish what I started. What’s going on with me? I wish I knew.
“Have you been sleeping?” she accuses, hands going to her hips. “You’ve got a whole castle of people who can stay up late and keep watch. It’s not on you to stay sentry while everyone else rests.”
I don’t answer, but that alone is answer enough. Sleeping would involve going to my chambers. Where Ingrid has been staying. Where I am sure to be surrounded by her scent and distracted by her delicate beauty. Sleeping would mean missing whatever reports come in from the border, urgent developments that need immediate response.
Without me having to say a word, Hilduin frowns, shaking her head. “The Wardens will never turn on you, you know that. But if you want to win over these guys? If you want the reach to accept you? You need to be on the top of your game, not prone to rages and easily instigated. You think courtiers won’t try to use her to get under your skin? It might be made of stone, but if they find a soft spot, theywillexploit it.”
“Focus on training the guard. Leave matters of the Crown to me,” I answer, harsher than I should be. Hilduin’s right. I have no doubt that she is, but I can’t slow down. If I stop for even a moment, my thoughts begin to catch up to me. Fears about the throne rejecting me, my bride abandoning me, Emerald Reach deteriorating into a frozen wasteland undermywatch…
No matter how much I bury myself in work, how many hours a day I spend sparring until my body collapses, I cannot outrun those thoughts. It doesn’t matter how busy I keep myself, the instant I pause for a breath or a beat, those thoughts are back, plaguing the back of my mind, taunting me. Whispering the dark truths I’m not willing to admit.
Truths I refuse to let come to fruition.
I will find a way to save the reach, even if it destroys me in the process.
I spend longer than usual bathing under the falling water. The dirt and sweat have long been washed off, the traces of the guard’s blood all gone, yet I feel as wretched as I did when I started. Sparring was supposed to clear my mind, help me to forget some of my worries. Instead, I’ve given myself more cause to worry about my standing with my own guard.
By the time I’m heading back to the castle keep, the first light of dawn is beginning to paint the frosty sky in soft hues of pink and orange. For a moment, the whole icy reach glows with the pink reflection, frozen trees glittering, dense mist hugging the ground like a woollen blanket. My chest tightens. As beautiful and quiet as it is, it’s all wrong.
Exhaustion weighs heavily on my shoulders as I move through the waking castle, endlessly greeted by different staff members, each obligated to acknowledge me. It’s hard to believe that not too long ago I resented being ignored. Now I long for the days when my appearance made people look the other way.
Hilduin’s admonishment comes rushing back; if I was getting proper rest, I wouldn’t be so easily bothered.
Apparently the castle agrees with her. While I fully intend to find my way back to the war room, I’m suddenly looking down the hallway that leads to my chambers. And all at once, my legs feel like they can no longer support me. I don’t know the lasttime I stopped, and now that rest is within sight, every part of me moves with the same, singular purpose. I couldn’t stop the avalanche if I tried.
It’s not until I open the door that I remember why I’ve avoided this for so long.
