Home…Sud wasn’t truly home anymore. But neither was Befest. Well, maybe the academy was.
Gio and I had indulged often enough. Magi, unlike regular nobles, were not bound by traditional restraint. But no matter how many times he’d tried, he could never quite bring me to that ultimate, shattering release.
I wondered if Kael would.
Maybe I should have followed him that night. Maybe I should have fought back, told him that staying away from him was impossible.
Because I didn’t want to. Even though I should.
And tonight, I would see him again.
Because tonight was the Academy Ball, and gods be damned, I had nothing to wear!
I rose in a rush, wiping sleep and shame from my face with a warm cloth. My reflection in the mirror looked paler than I liked, eyes too wide, thoughts too loud. I twisted my hair into a high knot, something different for once. Proper care could wait until later.
I dressed quickly. A long-sleeved linen chemise beneath a fitted brown bodice and soft wool skirts. No embroidery, no velvet, nothing ostentatious. I wasn’t on court duty today, and simple suited me better.
It was time to find a gown for tonight. Last-minute preparations—how delightful…
A report for Bram lay neatly on my desk, written and signed in the late hours last night. I would drop it by his office on my way out. The blight at the Bracks’ farm hadn’t spread; the wards I’d had apprentices cast still held firm. Several farmers had reported erratic cattle behavior. I’d told them to keep their herds on the lower slopes until further notice. With the snow melting and the weather warming, the creatures would soon wish to wander upward again. We needed to act before they did.
As for the woods, I’d traced the dark vines to another surge near the foot of the mountain. If I followed them long enough, I was certain they would lead me somewhere, or to something.
I stepped from my quarters, castle walls cool as always, and dropped the report at Bram’s office. He wasn’t there. Perhaps still having breakfast, perhaps enjoying a day off.
I descended the grand staircase, forcing my gaze on the steps rather than where Kael had done what he’d done. The thought lingered anyway, sliding through the cracks of my composure. But then I remembered his hateful eyes, cold as ice, and that turned the heat in my chest to sorrow again.
The bridge teemedwith early-rising courtiers basking in the first warmth of morning. I greeted the guards as I passed, and, as always, they called out, “Morning, Goat Whisperer!” before collapsing into laughter as though it were the cleverest jest in the realm.
I wondered how His Highness had ever entrusted these buffoons to defend us from siege.
I followed Castle Street, my steps slowing as my gaze caught on the opera house under reconstruction. Half its structure had crumbled during a great storm that had raged in the plague’s darkest days. The worst I’d ever seen. Now marble and obsidian gleamed anew, the rising dome catching the sunlight as though nothing had ever been lost.
I passed the royal gardens, the chapels, and the great cathedral, rival to Sud’s own grandest temple, until I reached the northern markets. Half the stalls still stood empty, even two years after the plague, but Lo had told me I would find a tailor here named Jenna Ciuffolotto. With a name like that, she had to be from Sud. Which meant, by my logic, that her clothes would be worth the coin.
I couldn’t miss her. Jenna Ciuffolotto commanded not one but four stalls, one entirely given over to changing rooms. Bolts of cloth in every shade of the sun draped the awnings, and the air shimmered with the scent of new dye and fine soap. Her changing stalls were the most refined of contraptions, hung with curtains of embroidered muslin.
Jenna herself stood at the center like a beacon. Even at this early hour, her market—if one could call that many stalls a single shop—overflowed with noblewomen clamoring for her attention. She reminded me of the grandmother every Sud child seemed to have—small, round, exuberant, determined to overfeed the world. She stood on a chair brandishing a bright orange gown, a froth of tulle and ribbons, like a victory banner.
The crowd of ladies gasped and sighed in unison.
“Evie!”
Lo’s voice rang out above the noise like a bell. He wove throughthe crowd with the grace of an actor parting a curtain, his long blue robe swaying behind him. A quiver of blackiron arrows was slung across his back, comically out of place, and he clutched it as though it were a prop in some grand performance.
“You found it!” he declared, throwing his arms wide as if unveiling a masterpiece. “Here to claim the latestCiuffopièce de résistance?” His voice dipped theatrically as he gestured toward the orange explosion. “I was tempted myself, but alas, I’d need to blindfold every man in the kingdom first.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here? And what’s this?” I pointed at the quiver.
“Oh, this old thing?” He flicked a wrist, dismissive and proud all at once. “Kael went hunting this morning and needs new arrows.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “He sent me to replenish his supply while he… keeps himself entertained supervising Selena, as if anyone could supervise that woman.”
Supervising Selena?What in the gods’ names did that mean?
Instead, I asked the safer question. “Kaelhunts?”
Lo rolled his eyes skyward, sighing as though discussing a brilliant but endlessly exasperating relative. “When the mood strikes him, yes. Springtime, mostly. He donates the game to the merchants. Keeps them loyal, keeps his legend alive. You know the type.” His tone softened for a heartbeat. “He’s not all thunder and glares, Evie. Sometimes he’s almost human.”
Was Kael here, in the market, right now?
