And me.I feel unprepared. Untethered. I knew I’d be given a placeto sleep, but until this moment, I honestly hadn’t given it much thought. I didn’t expect much. I thought maybe it would be a cot in the forge, or in the loft over the stables. Maybe that was foolish.
But Tycho saidmany.Manyforge workers. My heart gives a little uncertain kick. If a lot of people live in this Shield House, that means I’ll likely be sharing a room with someone. Probably a lot of someones.
I’ve never lived with anyone but Da.
I doubt any of these people will speak much Syssalah. From my experience with the soldiers, it’s mostly broken phrases and halfhearted greetings—basically the extent of my Emberish. I won’t have Malin and Sephran anymore, because they’re being sent back to the barracks. And Tycho . . .
I have no idea where he sleeps. He’s the King’s Courier, so I doubt he rooms with the tradesmen. Surely he sleeps in the castle proper. I wonder how far away that is.
Right now, I don’t want to ask.
As we ride up the hill, my chest has grown tight, and my horse prances, feeling my tension. I snatch for the reins before remembering I’m not supposed to do that, then grab hold of the saddle. For a breathless moment, I’m worried the gelding is going to bolt.
“Easy,” says Tycho, his voice quiet and low for the horse, and then I realize he’s got a tight hold of the rein. The horse blows out a snort and paws at the ground, but he doesn’t run. I murmur a soft word of apology to the animal and unclench my fingers.
I expect Tycho to say something sharp or critical, since the air between us is so weighted, but he doesn’t. Instead, his voice is just as quiet for me. “Look up, Jax.”
I look up and find his eyes, full of color now that the sun is beginning to rise, painting gold in his hair. He holds my gaze for a long moment, and so much emotion is there. But none of it is anger. None of it is resentment. It’s longing. It’s regret.
Too much soldiering.Like before, it makes my heart ache.
But then he says, “Not at me. Look downthere.”
So I turn and look, and the sight of Ironrose Castle quite literally takes my breath away.
I knew the castle grounds would be vast, and they are, easily spanning a hundred acres. I want to memorize every inch of it, because I’ll have to describe it in a letter to Callyn later. The castle itself is massive, constructed of cream-colored bricks that glow pink in the sunrise, with countless sparkling windows, numerous cobblestone walkways, and at least a dozen outbuildings situated around the grounds. Flowers are in bloom everywhere, in pots and on trellises and strung from glimmering archways, arranged in rows in perfectly tended gardens. Gold-and-red flags and pennants hang at regular intervals, bearing the crest of Emberfall—the same gold-and-red crest that appears on Tycho’s armor beside the green, black, and silver crest of Syhl Shallow. Shadows still cling to the sprawling grounds, but I can make out a massive courtyard, what appears to be a training arena, a huge stable and carriage house, as well as guards and soldiers stationed everywhere.
Well beyond the castle, near the back half of the grounds, stands a wide, squat building with two chimneys billowing smoke. I can see a glowing forge, but we’re too far to hear any familiar clanging. I wonder if the forge runs all night. Beside it, there’s a much larger two-story structure with a few lit windows, but I can’t make out much else.
Though I can just identify a large black shield shape emblazoned on the front of the building, cut with gold-and-red stripes across the center.
The Shield House.My eyes skip back to the castle, which looks gargantuan by comparison. It might as well be a hundred miles away. My days of using crutches to quickly make my way down the dirt lane to Callyn’s are gone.
The gelding must feel my tension again, because he stamps a hoof,shifting restlessly, tugging at Tycho’s grip on the rein. Down near the castle, a series of bells ring out, faint on the breeze.
“What do the bells mean?” I say, and I hate that the words sound too quick, too anxious.
“It means it’s time for breakfast.” Tycho lets go of Mercy’s rein, and I expect him to cluck to his horse again, but his fingers brush over mine, lingering for a moment.
I look up and meet his eyes, and I see that same longing. That same regret.
I realize we’re not fighting. Not really. Not at all.
I turn my hand to give his a squeeze, the way he did in the grass last night.
A blush finds his cheeks, and his voice is husky when he pulls away. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 5
JAX
The gardens in front of the Shield House are just as lush and well tended as everywhere else on the castle grounds, roses and peonies in full bloom. The cobblestones are freshly swept, and there’s not one single spot of chipped paint or rotted wood anywhere. When we dismount to tether the horses, I can smell baked bread and cooking meat, which should be appetizing, but my stomach is churning.
Breakfast with my father was always simple: just the two of us, him usually reeking of ale or sweat or both. We’d eat boiled eggs or dry pastries that Callyn had left over from the bakery, along with some weak tea because Da never liked it too strong. Even with the soldiers, breakfast was quiet in the early morning darkness, just hard bread and dried strips of beef that were passed out while everyone took care of their horses.
From the sound of clattering dishes and the low rumble of conversations, breakfast in the Shield House will not be simple or quiet.
Beside me, Tycho is unbuckling my pack, which means I’ve been staring too long. He tugs it over his shoulder, then holds out my bowand quiver. “I’m sure you’re hungry. Let’s go find Master Garson. I’ll take the horses to the stables when we’re done, so you can take your time settling in.”
