Alexis…
That playful warning tone carves into the wood with my name.
I’ll send Desmond,he continues.
No.I write instantly.No one will find me up here. We’re alone.
Where are you?I change the subject.
Brierman. We leave in the late morning with the delegation. We’ll be at Castle Bardot before sundown.
I close my eyes again, finally allowing the calm air around the oak settle into my body. I’ll see him soon. I’ll feel that fire again soon.
Stormfall glides down to greet me, his proud chest puffing up for attention as I lazily stroke down his back. The two of us settle in as I begin debating spending the rest of my night here, the thought of reading under a lantern of bottled moonslight sounding cozy. I pull out one of the books Clair loaned me, the one on the Kingdom of Livyatan, and crack its spine, angling the text towards the moonslight and smiling when Stormfall perches himself between my legs.
I don’t even make it through the first page before the sound of hard, strong footsteps come bounding out from across the room. I glance down to the roots and watch as Golem disappears into a side of the trunk that is covered in heavy shadows. The steps grow even louder as they make their way directly under me, so I hold my breath and sink farther into the limbs, scowling when the visitor’s dark brown boots and black ensemble finally come into view.
Desmond’s ebony face juts up hard to the limbs above him, the frown on his face telling me that my night has ended.
I don’t like you right now.I write.
Keane’s chuckle fills my bones, his summoning vibrating under my skin as I wrap the cloth around the oak pen and slab and tuck them and the book back into my bag.
“The Prince may be my brother, Lady Alexis,” the Master Informer scowls up at me, “but he is still my superior. When he gives me an order to make sure that you don’t leave your room tonight,Ireap the consequences when that order is not followed.”
Keane’s laughter pushes against my bones again, apparently still locating me. Golem timidly steps out from the shadows after hearing Desmond’s voice, the Master Informer turning his glare on our magical friend.
“And you’re no help, Golem.”
“Don’t blame him,” I reply, knowing that my voice will reach Desmond’s ears, “I threatened to cut through the door if he tried to stop me.”
Keane’s next chuckle has such a hint of approval in it that it makes me grin. I swing my leg over the large limb and move down to the next, watching as Desmond crosses his arms over his chest with a raised brow.
“I’m curious to see how this plays out, Alexis,” he smirks, “how were you planning on getting down?”
I drop again with shrug, “perhaps I’ll just take a fall and hope that you catch me… though if you don’t, you’ll probably have bigger consequences to face from your brother.”
Desmond narrows his eyes and takes a few steps through the roots. He looks up at where I am and then adjusts his stance again, almost as if he’s anticipating that I actually will fall.
“That was a joke, Desmond,” I laugh from above, moving down to another limb.
“I’ve witnessed your clumsy feet more than once, Lady Alexis,” he shakes his head, “I’m taking no chances.”
“An interesting place in the castle to talk to yourself, brother,” a smug voice fills the room.
My whole body stills. I grip the limb I’m on tightly and stand straight against the oak’s trunk. Keane’s sudden curiosity pushes at my chest, his summoning latching onto my heart and lungs, squeezing them both in a tight embrace. I do my best to breathe through the uncomfortable feeling and peer through the large branches, watching as Desmond turns to greet his brother.
Troy steps over the large roots in the ground, his eyes falling on where Golem was just standing. I see the magical creature sink farther into the shadows and flick his hand, whatever magic he just used shielding us both from the younger Prince’s view.
Troy stops a few feet away from Desmond with a frown, his blonde hair shining under the bottled moonslight as his searching blue gaze passes right over me. He’s wearing a rich, pale green tunic with white embroidery, the formal collar resting high along his neck and stopping just below his angular jaw. His cold and beautiful features look around once more before landing on his brother, his hand darting up to the blonde stubble dotting across his jaw and lips before he gives him a side smile.
“It’s good to see you, Desmond,” he nods, “is our father’s Golem with you?”
He knows.
“Why would he be?”
Troy gives him a knowing smile before continuing with a shrug, “he hasn’t been around for a while. I thought perhaps he had been transferred to our brother.”
