I shake my head. “Don’t do that. You don’t have to make the offense seem like nothing. Not with me,” I tell her. “You may be a saddle, but you’re a royal saddle, only meant to be with the king. But more than that, you’re a woman who deserves to be treated with love and respect.”
She outright laughs at me this time—head tilted back, creased eyes pointed at flakes that fall from the sky. She lets the sharp coldness land on her face, snow dropping into her open mouth and salting her blonde hair.
I cross my arms in front of me, gloved fingers holding on like I can contain my roiling emotions. “What’s so funny?”
Rissa shakes her head and starts walking again, forcing me to match her steps. “After all this time, you still think those things are real?” she asks.
We pass by the guards and Lu just then, which is good, because it gives me an excuse to hesitate before answering.
Do I?Do I think those things are real?
If Rissa had asked me this question a couple of months ago, I would have answered straight away that Midas loves me. He always has, since the moment he rescued me.
And yet…
My king loves me.
Indeed. Loves you so much he keeps you in a cage.
That crack in the glass is back—the one that formed when I thought Midas was giving me to King Fulke.
The splintering crack is creeping out, like the web of a spider, silk-thin strands spreading, imperfections in the clear love I’ve always had for him. It’s getting hard to see through it. But is that my fault? Am I letting Commander Rip get to me?
“Love and respect exist,” I say quietly, just as we round the side of the tent again.
I might be a confused mess right now when it comes to Midas, but my parents loved each other. I don’t remember much, but I know that.
“Maybe it does for some,” she concedes, her voice also softer now, sadder. “But it doesn’t exist for women like us.”
Her confession is spoken to the horizon, words for the clouds to soak in and rain down.
“We’re beautiful and pleasing to the eye, meant to fuel a person’s lust, meant to play a part. But we don’t get true love, Auren. And the only women in Orea who have respect are the ones who sit on a throne. Even then, they’llalwaysbe secondary to their male counterparts. You should know that by now.”
“King Midas—”
Rissa cuts me off. “King Midas is just that, aking. And kings love one thing above all else. Power.”
The pessimism seeping from her tongue is a strong poison without any antidote.
“Gold, Auren,” she reiterates quietly, barely taking a step. “If you want me to keep your secret, I want gold.”
“I can’t make you gold.” I rub at my eyes, watching the hems of our skirts brush through the thick snow.
Her shrewd attention refuses to leave me. “So you can tap into his power but not very often? That makes sense. You clearly exhausted yourself the other night. I thought you were going to pass out after you gilded the captain with his pants stuck around his ankles.”
“I very nearly did.” Only pure adrenaline and fear kept me going.
She thinks quietly for a moment as we do another lap, passing Lu and the guards. My escort gives me a pointed look, letting me know my time is dwindling.
“Can King Midas tell when you’ve used his power?” Rissa asks.
“Shh!” I say hurriedly, looking back to make sure they didn’t hear. None of them are looking our way. Lu is too busy gloating that she won the round, while the other two are grumbling about beginner’s luck.
I relax slightly as we round the corner, though her lack of discretion is unsettling. “You should’ve carved a piece out from Highbell Castle if you wanted gold so badly,” I mutter.
“Do you have any idea how often the guards inspected every inch of that place?” Rissa scoffs and looks at me like I’m an idiot. “I’m not a fool. The few saddles who ever dared to take a single, tiny piece were always caught.Always.And believe me, their fate wasn’t worth it.”
I swallow hard, my mind conjuring up all sorts of punishments. I never considered what inspections Midas must have put into place to ensure no one stole anything from inside the castle, or even pieces of the structure itself.
