But then I see a flicker of the true pain behind his anger, and it’s as deep and potent as the moment he told me they lost the baby.
That twists at my heart in a way I don’t expect, and it steals my breath. “Grey,” I say. “Wait. Please. I didn’t—”
“Stop,” he says. “Stopnow.”
These words are so tight and sharp that they draw me up short. I swallow everything I want to say.
“You are relieved of your duties,” he says, and his expression is as fierce as I’ve ever seen it. “You will remain on the palace grounds until I give you further orders. You are not to go beyond the gates, and you are not to use your magic. Am I clear?”
His voice is so cold that it almost makes me shiver. We both know what to do with violence, but this . . . ?this is different. I don’t know if it’s better or worse than when we were throwing punches.
I do know we’ve both been pushed far beyond our limits, and there might be no undoing any of this.
So I give him a sharp nod. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
He takes a step toward me, and the starlight glints in his eyes. “And if you ever call magic to fight me, Tycho, you will not be able to walk it back.”
I stare back at him. “Understood.”
He turns and strides away, leaving me alone in the darkness.
CHAPTER 29
CALLYN
After I put Sinna into bed, leaving her with a stack of storybooks and an equally tired Nora, I return to the nursery to put things in order. To my surprise, I find the queen in the darkened room, standing at the window, gazing down at the fields beyond.
“Your Majesty,” I say in surprise. “I can light a lantern—”
“No.” She doesn’t look away from the window. “When Grey first came to Syhl Shallow, I used to stand at this window and watch for him when he was with the soldiers.”
I hesitate in the doorway, wondering if I should give her privacy. She’s so still, her eyes locked on whatever she’s watching.
I haven’t seen her all day, and I think of the way Nora and I quite literally ran into Lord Tycho in the hallway earlier, how he seemed so surprised that there were rumors about his presence. It makes me wonder ifsheeven knew he was here.
“Should I leave you alone?” I say quietly.
“You don’t have to.”
I hesitate, then join her. The training fields are mostly dark, onlyilluminated by random torches here and there. But as my eyes adjust to the darkness, I make out two men standing far across the fields, close to the fence line that leads to the army barracks. They’re not close to any of the torches, so I can’t determine who they are, but based on the heavy note in the queen’s voice, I assume one is the king.
“I used to leave all the lanterns lit,” she adds. “So he could see me watching.”
But now the room is dark.
I bite at my lip, and I think of the moment my sister launched herself at the queen, giving her a hug in that moment of sorrow.
I can’t be as forward as my sister, but I sense that same sorrow behind her words. Before I can reconsider, I reach out and take hold of the queen’s hand.
She looks at me in surprise—but she grips tight. Her eyes are gleaming in the shadows.
When she finally speaks, her voice is barely more than a whisper. “He hasn’t talked to me in two days.”
As soon as the words are out, she presses her free hand to her mouth and stares back at the fields again. A slow tear rolls down one cheek.
I follow her gaze. Those two figures haven’t moved. I can identify the king now, because he’s taller, a bit more broad through the shoulders.
I knew he wasn’t spending his nights in the royal chambers, but I didn’t realize it had gone so far that he wasn’t speaking to her.
