They ate together with few words spoken between them. Sephia was surprised at how pleasant the silence felt.
When they had finished, the prince said, “The doctor suggested fresh air would be good for you. If you’re feeling up to it, I could show you more of the grounds?”
She agreed eagerly; she was ready to escape this too-warm, too-heavy room that was starting to feel more and more like a magic-laced prison.
She changedinto walking attire and met Tarron at the main entrance, and they set off.
He allowed her to lead the way, and, after a bit of consideration, she decided to follow a path that wound its way up a hill and into what appeared to be a massive orchard. From a distance, the trees of that orchard appeared to glow with something other than sunlight; she had first spotted them upon her arrival to Solturne Hall, and she’d wanted to get a closer look at them ever since.
The hill was steep. But it was worth the climb, because when they finally reached the top, the sight before them took Sephia’s breath away.
The treeswereglowing.
Each leaf was a different shade, from soft pinks to blazing oranges and reds, and they pulsed brighter and paler, brighter and paler, as though they each contained their own individual heartbeats. Shimmering dust filled the air, drifting and sparking around them like embers thrown from a fire. A heady, smoky sweet scent tickled Sephia’s nose.
The trees were aligned in painstakingly neat rows, and she wandered from one row to the next, collecting different kinds of fruit and stuffing them into the pockets of her cloak. She intended to carry these spoils back to Ketzal.
Tarron rolled his eyes and muttered something aboutspoiled beastswhen she informed him of this plan, but she was fairly certain he was fighting off a smile as he said it.
She continued exploring while the prince trailed slightly behind her. He answered all of her questions about their surroundings, but his answers were short and to the point, and soon he was glancing back at the palace they’d left behind.
“You seem worried,” she finally said, circling back to his side. “And you mentionedfiresearlier—notliteralones, you said. What did you mean?”
He shook his head. “Forgive me.”
“Forgive you for what?”
“For not giving you my undivided attention. I shouldn’t let the troubles on my mind distract me, I just…”
“You don’t need to apologize.” She hugged herself against the early morning chill. “Where I come from, we call thatbeing human.”
“Are you insulting me?”
She looked over and saw his lips quirking in the corners.
Joking around again?
He was, and it was becoming entirely too easy to smile back at him. She almost wished he would go back to smirking and being truly offended by everything she said and did—that had been easier to deal with.
“I only meant that you don’t have to pretend around me,” she told him. The hypocrisy of the words struck her as soon as she said them. She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and averted her gaze.
Tarron didn’t seem to notice her inner turmoil; he clasped his hands behind his back and walked on. He was silent until they made their way to the banks of the slow-moving river that edged the eastern side of the orchard.
They wordlessly seemed to agree that this was a good place to take a break; Tarron leaned against a nearby tree, while Sephia stretched out on a flat slab of rock, removed her boots and stockings, let her toes skim the cold water.
“So…” she began after a moment “…are you going to tell me any more details about what’s bothering you?” She wasn’t entirely certain why she was pressing the matter. The words had just sort of…fallen out of her.
“It’s all very boring stuff—politics and such.”
“Perhaps I don’t find these things boring?”
He hesitated. “You honestly want to know?”
“Yes.”
He pushed away from the tree and came to sit on the rock beside her. “Well…we apprehended two criminals yesterday that we believe are tied to the Shadow Court. Either here as spies, or perhaps something worse.”
“Worse?”
