Asterious turned his gaze away, but felt his face run hot as he clenched his fist beneath the table. He didn’t know why Wryan’s comments about her enraged him so. He didn’t care. He shouldn’t care.
Tyrios appeared and slid into the seat beside Wryan, chomping down on a bite of pancake. “Do tell, Wryan, who could turn a few heads? I missed the memo on this clearly important meeting.”
Wryan slapped Asterious on the shoulder. “Our prince here can explain. Seems he’s got an eye for the girl from the Woods.”
“Shattered gods, Wryan that is absolute nonsense.” Asterious rolled his eyes and touched his fingers to his forehead as Tyrios and Wryan chuckled. “I simply said I think she may have more potential to help us if I can just get her to tell me the truth about herself. But to do that, I'll have to win her trust. I want her cooperation, not her fear." He noticed how Wyran shot him a look of warning.
Tyrios eyed the prince up and down, his smirk fading. "Well, it may not be my place to say this, but perhaps keeping her locked in her room isn't sending the right message. Make her want to be here. Show her you trust her, and then maybe she'll trust you. Isn’t that what you always say when you’re training new horses?"
“She’s not a horse. I do not seek to tame her.” Asterious snapped. Then he slid back in his chair with a sigh. "If I grant her freedom, what if she leaves?"
"Make her want to stay." Tyrios repeated with a shrug. Wryan shook his head and looked like he wanted to object, but to the prince’s surprise, he didn’t.
Asterious rubbed a thumb across his chin as he mulled over the thought of allowing Caramyn to roam the castle grounds. If she left, he may lose any chance of ever crossing back into those Woods. He was desperate, and she could be his last hope to keep both his sister and his kingdom from falling into darkness, as absurd as it seemed.
"You're right." The prince rose to his feet. "I’ll give her a reason to stay. And I'll start by inviting her to dinner tonight."
Just then, the guard who had the night shift of guarding Caramyn's room passed by the table. Asterious reached out a hand to get his attention. "How is the girl?"
“It was a strange night, Your Highness." He shifted his eyes across the room, as if looking for something. “Lots of odd things shifting in the night. You'll have to forgive me, but I followed something I thought was lurking in the stairwell until I realized it was just a blackbird. Had me fooled, though. For a moment there it almost seemed like…Shadows."
“A blackbird?” Asterious raised an eyebrow. He didn’t have to think too hard about where he’d seen one recently before. “But the girl is safe?"
“She never left the room, Sir. When I came back her door was still shut and locked."
He stood up, faster than he meant to, and addressed the men at his table. "If you'll excuse me, I need to check on something."
17
Dinner Invitation
Caramyn
It was difficult to sleep without a blanket or even a thin sheet. Every piece of cloth in the room had been used for the escape plan. And Caramyn’s grumbling stomach only added to her discomfort. She planned to devour breakfast once Azell brought it up. As she lay there curled up on the bare mattress, she worried what the maid would say about the shattered window and her blankets that had been tied into a rope and were now a soiled bundle on the floor.
"Good morning, dear." Azell peeked in through a crack in the door.
"Good morning, Azell. Come in." A yawn carried Caramyn's words as she sat on the edge of her bed and the maid pushed the door open.
"Goodness, you are tattered! What happened to your clothes? And your bed?" Azell threw her hands up as she shrieked. She placed the breakfast tray she was carrying on the dresser and dashed across the room.
Caramyn sat in silence as the maid inspected the bed and empty wardrobe, the scent of fresh warm fruit preserves making her salivate. As Azell made her way to the broken window, she clicked her tongue.
"I can't blame you for trying to escape. He shouldn't have forced you to come here." She paused again, looking out the window into the sunlight. "The prince is desperate enough that sometimes I wonder if he's thinking clearly."
"Desperate to sit on the throne." Caramyn crossed her arms. Her words tasted like salt. “He just wants power like every other king and conqueror before him.”
"Well," Azell shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. He fears the weight of the crown, but trust me when I say I believe he is the one most fit to wear it. In his veins he carries both great bloodlines that ruled this land in duality for centuries. Asterious cannot change the things that have already passed at his father’s hand. But he can do something about the future.”
Caramyn huffed, not convinced, and shuffled over the tray of food, stuffing her mouth with a berry tart oozing a decadent filling that almost shimmered. Then popped a plump piece of starfruit into her mouth and washed it down with the creamiest milk she’d ever tasted.
Azell's dark eyes twinkled as she turned back toward Caramyn. "I’ve known him since he was just a young boy. He has a good heart underneath all that sternness."
Caramyn was surprised to hear such admiration for the prince. All her life, he’d been spoken of as a demon—said to have refused the throne simply to remain the executioner. Yet when he’d interrogated her, he’d implied that killing had never been his choice. And timid Azell hardly seemed the sort to dote on a monster. None of it added up.
Caramyn fidgeted with her tangled hair, twisting it in both hands over her shoulder. Even if he wasn’t the demon they said he was, he was still a man. Best not to give him the benefit of the doubt. But she wouldn’t say that out loud to this tender woman.
Azell approached, her eyes fixated on Caramyn's tattered dress that was nearly reduced to rags from last night's endeavors. She walked over to the dirty bedding and clothes on the floor and sorted through the pieces before gathering them up into a bundle in her arms. "Goodness you even ruined the dresses, too."
