“That’s what all of them have done so far,” he replied honestly.
I bet they did.I smiled faintly. “Then perhaps the Assembly should’ve sent a lady sooner.”
He gave a surprised laugh. “You’ll do well here, I think. Darreth respects plain speech, even when it’s wrapped in a pretty package.”
Maybe the guard was right. Maybe diplomacy was the truth, disguised with just enough delicacy to be easily digested.
The Assembly wanted one king on the throne. But the stability of the crown didn’t depend on the man who wore it; it depended on the people who upheld it. A king with a starving, fearful populace was a king on a throne of kindling. The choice of the best man would depend on who could bring that woman’s husband home quickly and stabilize trade, not the arbitrary fancies of the mages. It was a terrifying, revolutionary thought, but one of which I felt utterly certain.
I needed to learn more about Nisien and Emrys to understand what made them who they are. Nisien would almost certainly be open with me, but Emrys would just as certainly keep me at arm’s length.
When the gates thudded shut behind us, I turned once to look down at the winding streets. The market’s colors had dimmed in the distance, but the city still echoed under my skin.
That had been…nice. I already felt less like an intruder in this kingdom. But after hearing the worries of a farmer and a soldier’s wife, a new, growing feeling was already taking root within me: duty.
But also possibility. Maybe, just maybe, this was where my voice started to matter.
Chapter 18
Isca
The sunny day had warmed the library, making it cozy enough that a fire wasn’t necessary. I stared at the abandoned chess set sitting in one corner, waiting for Emrys longer than I cared to admit, pretending I wasn’t annoyed.
The wait gave me far too much time to think about the dark prince of Darreth. Too often, my thoughts ventured into dangerous places when it came to him. Something about him made me feel like I was standing at the edge of one of the two rivers surrounding Caervorn on a sweltering day, knowing the current could drag me under, yet feeling my feet inch toward the water anyway. His pull was undeniable, even as every rational part of me screamed to step back,stay away.
The only thing I cared about was what I could gain from this interaction. He was my target to calm. Nothing more. More comfortable lies among many I already told myself when it came to everything about my mission here. I forced myself to focus on my duty, trying to silence the other thoughts about him that buzzed relentlessly in my head.
I stood and began perusing the shelves. If I had to wait, I could at least try to understand more about this kingdom. Knowledge was power, and I had far too little power. But I could get knowledge.
My fingers trailed down the pages of a book titledA History of the Northern Lords of Darreth. I’d read the same sentence twice, distracted by the sunlight filtering in through the windows. I needed to learn about whatmight be happening in the north, but heavy reading wasn’t distraction enough today.
Cubbyholes for scrolls lined one corner of the room. That might be a good place to start. Beneath each cubby, etched bronze plaques displayed the contents of the scrolls. The largest one caught my eye: Architectural Plans.
Curious, I tugged it free. Nisien hadn’t said anything was off limits. The parchment was old, crisp at the edges, but still intact. I carried it to the table and unrolled it, anchoring the corners with the chunks of granite left there for exactly that purpose.
A map of the castle unfolded beneath my fingers, rendered in exquisite detail. Every corridor, every beam, every courtyard was marked in dark, purposeful ink. I leaned in, tracing lines with a fingertip, enchanted by the artistry on display.
The dates along the margin showed that the scroll had been copied four times across nearly four centuries. The original plans were ancient. I sat in a place that was a piece of history. It had stood while Avanfell’s empire still reigned, while the heroes of tales walked across the land of the living.
I studied the plan until a dull ache settled between my brows, my eyes straining against the careful lines and measurements. The sloped terrain beyond the battlements was an example of exquisite architecture, designed for brutality.
I leaned in, squinting at the tiny script there until I could just make out the word: glacis.
My father had explained the strategy for these strange slopes around castles. The ground was deliberately angled to create a vast killing field. Any enemy foolish enough to approach would find themselves exposed on that barren slope, with nowhere to shelter from the rain of arrows descending from above.
But I’d noticed a problem on the western glacis earlier while walking with Catrin, where the plans did not match reality. One section of thefoundation and ground beneath seemed to sag slightly just below where I’d seen the gaping hole in the roof.
I was still bent over the scroll when my body tensed, and every nerve lit up.Him. I knew it was him from that particular stillness he carried that could feel too cold and yet too hot all at once. It was like the pause between heartbeats, always there, wholly necessary for life, but never receiving the attention it deserved.
“Why are you reading that?” I’d heard so little of Emrys’s voice since arriving that its depth surprised me.
Finally. I didn’t look up. Just gestured vaguely toward the cubbies. “It wasn’t hidden.”
I could be nonchalant too.
He stepped closer. His eyes skimmed the plans like they were familiar, but I was far too aware of the heat radiating off him, the faint brush of his sleeve against mine, and the way my own breath felt suddenly shallow.
“I haven’t seen this in years,” he murmured.
