“Well done, my lady,” he praises.
I pull the blade away, quickly rising. Heat flushes across my skin, and I turn my head away so Sebastian won’t see. Sebastian gracefully rises to his feet, brushing his pants clean of dust with his palms.
“Sun's up.” Sebastian parts the curtains over the window, allowing some light inside.
“Thank you…” I say sheepishly, picking up my satchel and pulling it over my shoulder. I tuck the blade away, feeling more confident in my abilities.
“Get home safe, you hear?”
“Thank you for saving me,” I say truthfully.
“Of course,” Sebastian replies, opening the door for me.
I exit the cabin and make my way through the streets of Khalessor as they come to life for the day. Merchants set up their stalls, while others make their way to the mines for work. I walk up the castle steps and trudge my way toward my room as exhaustion settles into my bones. I can’t wait to rest; my muscles are sore from fighting.
A small servant girl crosses my path, causing me to stop.
“The King wishes to speak to you,” she requests. I recognize her as the girl who delivered the castle map to me and wonder if she directly assists with Wrath’s tasks.
“What’s your name?” I step out of the way, allowing her to lead me.
“Serafina,” she replies.
“How long have you been working at the castle?”
“Since my parents died.”
Serafina may have lost them due to the war. If she orbits Wrath closely, I must earn her trust. That means patience, careful words, and sincerity to lower her guard.
“Do you like working here?” I ask gently.
“I’m grateful for the King.” Her words are empty, eyes still cast down, refusing to look at me.
I don’t press her further, allowing us to stroll down the halls until she stops at a door and gestures for me to enter. Standing guard outside is Kieran, who smiles warmly at me. I step inside to see Wrath and Barnham having a discussion. The space is similar to the war room my father uses to hold meetings with the other lords. Unlike my father’s war room, however, Wrath’s is immaculate. Everything is perfectly organized, from the chair and the bookshelves to each piece of parchment or map. Forsomeone who sheds so much blood, he’s quite neat and orderly.
“Raelys, why do you smell like ale and piss?” Wrath’s eyes travel down, taking in my disheveled state. The lower he gets, the more I see annoyance course through him. I am a stark contrast to his pristine standards, and it clearly irritates him.
“I just returned from work.” I lie, hoping the magic won’t wrestle the honest answer from me.
“You have a job?” Barnham cuts in. “Where?”
My focus turns to him, my patience dwindling. “You think that because I am a princess, I believe honest work is beneath me?”
“Barnham, leave us,” Wrath snaps.
Barnham shakes his head, sauntering from the room to leave us alone. I can tell Wrath is turning over the thought of me having a job in his head. It is part of my plan to thwart him, of course, but I cannot allow him to discover it. After spending years studying the warlord’s tactics, I will at last put them to use—ready to play war with Wrath as my opponent.
“Are the gowns not up to your standards?” Wrath asks bitterly.
My spite drops immediately.
“No.” I shake my head. “Rowena is far more skilled than any tailor in Cathros.” I hesitate for a moment, choosing my following words carefully. “If you spent your whole life locked within castle walls, wouldn’t you try to experience what it’s like to have anactuallife? To have people speak to you without preconceived notions of your rank?”
“We are royals. There is no break, no escape from the expectations that bind us.” Wrath’s response sounds more habitual than true—exactly like something my father would say to me.
“So, have you brought me here tobrightenmy day with your lectures?” I sass him, placing my hands on my hips.
A muscle in Wrath’s neck twitches in response to my comment, causing his scar to flex. He plucks a square object from the table and plops it into my palm. “Hold this.”
