“Your Majesty, please,” Visri argues, jogging to cut off my path. “The king would have me drawn and quartered if something happened to you here.”
A huff of laughter escapes before I can stop it. “The king would have to notice my absence first,” I joke. “You’ll have more than enough time to flee.”
Visri’s face scrunches, and I immediately regret the dumb joke. Perhaps my fraught relationship with the king isn’t as well-known throughout the castle as I thought.
Whoops.
Using his moment of shock to my advantage, I skirt around Visri and make my way to Starcaller’s stable, humming and clicking as I approach, treats in hand.
“Hey mama, how are you doing?” I coo, letting her have her fill, not getting any closer. “You’ve been doing such a good job,” I add, clicking and humming to keep her calm. Despite Visri’s warnings, Starcaller seems entirely unbothered by my presence, even nudging my hand once it’s empty, asking for more treats.
I dig another handful of dried flowers out of the bottom of the basket, holding them out for Starcaller while casually trying to spot her calf. The ifrak’s velvet-soft nose brushes against my palm while she inhales every crumb she can. From the indecipherable tangle of fur on her underside, a ball of fluff—already as large as a horse—emerges, toddling toward the stall door, its triplet of swirling eyes focused on me while it makes soft, squeaky clicks trying to imitate its mother.
My heart jumps up to my throat, every part of me desperate to get closer. I don’t dare move, though. I’m scared tobreathetoo hard for fear I might startle one or the other.
Unlike Starcaller, whose coat is entirely white, the baby is covered in black splotches, its coat much more fluff than wool. It looks impossibly soft, and so cute I want to squeeze it. Keeping my feet firmly planted in place is a test of will like I’ve never had.
“Hello, little one,” I say with a series of soft clicks. “It’s such an honor to meet you. I know you’re new here, but I think if you stick around for a little while, you might start to feel like it’s home.”
Both ifrak are now focused on me, their swirling eyes seeing way more than I can comprehend. It’s not unsettling the way it was at first, though. Now I can almost feel Starcaller telling meit’s okay. Like they’re both eagerly waiting for what I might say next.
I look around the stables, but there’s no one nearby. Even Visri has busied himself with tasks elsewhere, perhaps hoping for an alibi if I wind up gored on what should have been his watch. Of course my guards would be blamed, too, all three of them standing outside the stables, warming themselves by a fire instead of staying at my side. Not that I’m complaining. One of my favorite parts about visiting the stable is that Morwen and my guards all despise it and I have a moment to myself.
“I know it might seem strange,” I continue, talking to the ifrak pair as if they’re old friends. Ones who will never interrupt or chastise me. “I felt the same way when I got here, but it grows on you. Nothing’s easy, but it’s rewarding…most of the time. The king is…difficult. He cares deeply, but it’s easy to convince yourself he doesn’t like you.”
Starcaller nudges my hand, looking for more treats with her rough tongue.
I sigh, dumping out everything that’s left. “Surprisingly, I don’t mind life here all that much. It’s different, but not altogether bad. I might not be so intent on leaving if not for my brother… He…” I can’t help but smile even at the thought of him. “You’d love Phillip. Always smiling, always bringing a spark of joy, a thoughtful gift—the warmest, tightest hugs in the world…” My voice breaks at that. While I’m here knitting through the winter and feeding treats to adorable fluffballs, my brother is…
What?
Is he still frozen in time in that jail cell?
Has the Dealmaker’s magic worn off, and Phillip is cold and suffering?
Is the Judge torturing him, trying to find out where I’ve gone?
Guilt claws at me, making my throat raw and my eyes sting with tears. I’ve been so selfish, focusing on this world and its problems instead of the person I promised to be there for.
The ifrak calf hums and clicks in its squeaky voice. It cracks through the wall of self-pity I’m building, making me chuckle instead.
“I know, you don’t understand what I’m talking about. It’s nice to be able to talk to someone, though.” Without thinking, I reach out and pat the baby’s nose. A moment too late, I realize what I’ve done and freeze, glancing over to Starcaller, half-expecting her to be poised for a charge.
Instead, she’s in the opposite corner of her stall, circling the same spot before settling down.
Relaxing a hair, I withdraw my hand, my chest aching. Until now, I didn’t realize how much I needed to talk about these things. And how much I wish it was Xandril I could share it with. But I think if I actually tried to talk about the things I’m feeling, he’d run away like I aggravated a hornet’s nest.
At least I’m not entirely alone here. I have Morwen, Visri, and…Brightstar? I look at the calf, tilting my head to the side. The name came from nowhere, but I like it. Whoever manages to bond with the calf will be able to name it what they like, but it won’t hurt anything for me to have a pet name for them in the meantime.
“Will it, Brightstar?” I ask, running my fingers through their soft, fluffy down, my worries and conflicted feelings forgotten for the moment.
Chapter Twenty-One
Xandril
The battle map on the table swims before my eyes, roads and borders blurring and doubling in my weary vision.
I’m not getting anywhere with this.
