“Is the Crystal Palace so vast?” Jax asks. He’s staring across the fields at the castle, which gleams in the moonlight now. Several windows flicker with candlelight, and more torches are lit beside the guards that stand along the parapets.
“You’ve never seen it?” I say in surprise.
He shakes his head. “I told you I’ve never left Briarlock before.”
That’s right. He did tell me that once. I wonder what it must be like, to see the king’s castle in another country before seeing the queen’s palace in his own.
“The Crystal Palace is massive,” I say. “But it’s built along the mountains and faces the city, so the grounds aren’t open like this. There’s a wall, with one set of main gates.” I shrug. “It’s just . . . ?different here. The castle itself is heavily guarded, obviously, but on the grounds, people are free to come and go.”
As I say it, I realize I’ve never really consideredhowdifferent they are. The Crystal Palace is very closed off, all but barricaded from thecity proper. Here, an ordinary citizen could quite literally ride straight up to the castle. They’d be stopped at the steps, of course, but they could make an inquiry. They could leave a message, in the hopes it would get to the king—or to Prince Rhen, I suppose, since Grey is so rarely here.
In Syhl Shallow, no one can reach the palace unless they have reason to.
I think about the Truthbringers and all their grievances against Grey. As much as I hate Alek, he always spoke about protecting the queen. For the first time, I wonder if the Crystal Palace gives the illusion of isolation. I wonder if Lia Mara seems trapped by the king and his magic.
She’s not, but it likely wouldn’t take much convincing for people who wanted to believe it.
Jax glances up at a guard stand as we pass, then ahead at the Shield House. The paths are almost too difficult to see, but I don’t want to admit it.
“When I get back,” I say, “I bet you’ll have learned to ride well enough that we can take the horses out to Silvermoon Harbor. They have a huge outdoor market, and it’s really quite grand—well, if you don’t mind the scent of cooked shellfish.”
“I’ve never eaten shellfish.”
“That’s a crime. Grey and I used to race each other across Rillisk for steamed crabs. It makes me want to take you right now.”
Jax looks over, and the breeze lifts his hair a bit. “Is it far?”
A note of intrigue hides in his voice, as if he’d go right now if I said we could. My heart stumbles, and I wish I hadn’t said anything at all. “Two hours on horseback.”
“Oh.” He looks at the sky. The moon is high, stars everywhere. “It’s very late.”
It is, and I hate it.
I nod anyway. “We should put Teddy back before the stable hands douse the lanterns.” My chest is tight as I say the words.
When we get to the stables, the lanterns are already doused, the doors latched. Luckily they’re not locked. I find a lantern and strike a match, then tether Mercy in the aisle so I can help Jax tend to Teddy. It’s not enough light, but I don’t care. If I meet his eyes now, it’ll be my undoing. The dark and the quiet press around us from all directions, and we say nothing while we strip the horse’s gear and brush the sweat marks from his coat. It reminds me of when I was younger, when I worked in the tourney with Grey. It would be late and dark and quiet just like this, and I would be so grateful that the night was over, the crowds gone, leaving no one but us and the horses.
I haven’t thought of those days in years—but as soon as the memories form in my mind, more join them. Some are pleasant, like when Grey first confided in me about his magic, how he was hiding. Or the way he taught me to hold a sword, the way we’d practice in secret. How it was the first time in my life I’d ever felt a glimmer of confidence.
Some memories aren’t pleasant at all, like the times the soldiers would be loud and aggressive and scare me into the shadows of the tourney grounds. Sometimes the nights would grow long and the scent of ale would be thick in the air, and Grey would find me hiding under the stands, tracing lines in the dust. I always worried he’d scold me for being lazy, but he never did.
I have to force my thoughts away from all this, because they won’t go anywhere good. Not right now. Not with all the voices of angry soldiers wrapped up in my mind, tangling with terrible memories of my past.
Instead, I focus on the sound of Jax’s breath as he stands on the other side of Teddy, rubbing the sweat out of his coat. I think of sunlight gleaming on his hair. I think of his hand brushing mine, or the way we scuffled in his room before I pulled away.
I think of the sound of his gasp when I pinned him against the door, and something inside me clenches tight.
But instead of bringing relief, these thoughts also turn somber.
Because I’m leaving. And this night is about to end.
Welcome to Emberfall, Jax. I’ll see you later.
My chest goes so tight that my hand stops against the horse’s ribs. For an instant, I don’t think I can breathe. I’m glad the shadows are so thick, that Jax can’t see my face clearly. The brush drops silently into the straw, and I press my hands into the horse’s coat, burying my fingers in his mane. A moment later, I press my forehead against the crest of his neck.
Straw shifts underfoot, and I think it’s Teddy, moving away from my nonsense, but then arms slip around my back and Jax pulls me against him.
It’s a simple embrace, but alsomore, as if I were falling and he caught me. Or maybe it’s like we werebothfalling, because I’ve held him like this once before—on another day when I was due to leave him.
