“No, I’m all right.” I look up at him. “If you hadn’t come in, they would’ve—” I stop myself. I can’t say it out loud. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“You are safe now, my lady.” He nods. “But you shouldn’t go wandering. Not when the night noble is here. Not when the king’s brother lurks about.”
“I was trying to check on Lucidia. She didn’t come this morning, so I wanted to make sure she’s all right. But I must have taken a wrong turn.” My voice quivers so I pin my lips together and think. Why were Caroldon and Varan meeting in secret? Plotting against Solano, perhaps? I don’t know, but it’s important information. The kind that Brunilla would want, but also the kind that Solano should know. But Caroldon was clear—if I tell anyone about this, he’ll hurt my mother. I press one hand to my throat.
“Best we be going, my lady.” Dilrubin gives me a gentle tug, and I get to my feet.
“Can you take me to Lucidia?”
He shakes his head. “I can take you to your own kind. Come.” He squeezes my hand then drops it and leads me into the hall. Pointing to the corner piece where this hallway intersects with another, he says, “You can find your way from the directions there. West leads to the throne room and formal areas, east to the king’s quarters and yours.” He points across the hall to another set of markings. “South to the infirmary and servants’ quarters, and north to the library, war chambers, and the king’s private studies.”
I’d never noticed the directional etchings in the white stone. Those will come in handy. He walks slowly, his back bent as if he’s carrying an invisible, heavy load.
My knees go weak a few times when I think about what almost happened to me, but I push those thoughts down deep, covering them over so they can’t hurt me. I’ll dig them up later, when I can have a good cry or a strong hug from my mother or maybe even Solano. Not that I can tell him.
“Here.” Dilrubin pushes through a worn set of wooden doors, and the smell of old books hits me immediately. I only had a few back in Moonhollow, but I adore books.
Here, the library stretches so far above my head that I can’t make out the upper stacks. It’s impossible for this many pages of words to exist, but the shelves are laid out in neat rows on either side of me, fading away into the sunny far corners.
“Looking for something?” Tritus, the changeling I met the first night at dinner, strides up, but his happy demeanor fades when he gets a good look at my face. “What’s happened? Are you all right? You’re so pale you’re practically transparent.”
Dilrubin sits me down in a plush chair. “I must get back. Watch her, and take her back to her chambers when she’s ready.” He turns away, then says, “Don’t let her go alone.”
“Got it.” Tritus hurries into a side chamber as Dilrubin leaves the way we came.
After a moment, Tritus returns with a cup of tea. “Here, drink this. Should perk you up. Caltinius hasn’t been by this week with any extra herbs, but these are from last week and should be fine.”
“Thank you.” I flex my fingers to stop them from shaking and take the cup.
Tritus sits across from me in a worn wooden chair. His dark hair is verging on shaggy, and his green eyes are troubled as he looks me over. Putting one ink-stained hand to his mouth, he nibbles a fingernail as I taste the tea.
“Good.” I swallow it, though it verges on bitter. Despite the taste, it seems to be working. My hands stop shaking. “What’s in this?”
“Just whatever Caltinius has on-hand to spare.” He pulls his worn fingernail from his mouth. “See? I need it. I’m just a jittery sort of person naturally, so Cal helps me out with the herb tea. Makes it so I can concentrate.”
“That’s kind of him.”
He shrugs. “He’d probably strangle me in our bed if he got me full blast all the time. The herbs help mellow me out quite a bit.”
“Oh.” I sip more tea. “You two are together?”
He blushes. “Yes. We’re about to celebrate our mating anniversary. Two years.”
“Congratulations.” I give him what I know is a weak smile despite my best efforts.
His face falls. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head.
“Understood.” He pulls a book from the nearest shelf and opens it. “Here, let’s see. Books always calm me, so how about a story?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he begins reading. “Long ago in the Old Times, a high fae of noble birth rode hither and thither on his unicorn to find the lass the Ancestors promised him as his mate. The previous Daylands king lay slain on his crystal throne, and no heirs had been born to him. The council of Elders decided that if this gallant noble could find his fated mate and bring her back to the Shard of Day, he would be crowned king.
So, the noble set out to find her. He traversed the Dragonback Mountains, the lonely peaks of Reglarone, and the empty Plains of Ruin. But when he rode to the edge of the Desert of Obsidian, there he found a female, a changeling with bright eyes, pale skin, and raven hair. A female who did not come from those lands, not from the place where the sun rules, but from some other, darker place. Perhaps the Nightlands. He didn’t know, but when he saw her, he knew she was his true mate, the one promised to him in his dreams.
His feral awoke, and he dismounted his unicorn—who made a bawdy joke.
The female gave her name, but the noble fae couldn’t understand her. Not a word from her mouth made sense. However, she accepted him into her bed willingly, and they sealed their bond with verve and wanton abandon.
When he told her he would take her to his lands, she refused. He begged and pleaded and promised her a crown of jewels that would put any others to shame. But the female refused again and again. She didn’t want to rule, didn’t want to do anything except love her mate and travel Arin at his side until she was called to the Glowing Lands. For she was a mortal, her life like the flame of a candle with a short wick, and she intended to burn brightly before going to the Ancestors. But his heart was still covetous of the crown, and his feral grew silent as his mate bond began to wither. Her refusals continued, so he took her and bound her to his unicorn, carrying her back to the bright lands that he intended to rule.
