August offered a grateful smile, then turned and pushed through the front entrance. He paused and took a deep breath, but the feeling in his fingers remained.
So he kept going.
Out. He needed out.
He followed the path around the side of the castle to the expansive gardens, where the cloying scent of flowers wrapped around him, heavy and suffocating. Then he slipped through the wrought-iron gate to the castle’s cemetery. Three anchored turned to watch as the gate closed behind him.
Out.
He kept walking, eyes down as he passed through the gravestones to the temple of Daeban, a crumbling stone building used only for royal funerals.
A dead, knotted tree towered overhead, its branches bare and reaching, like a clawed beast in the fading daylight.
August hesitated in the open doorway.
The last time he was here alone was right after his father’s funeral.
The temple had once been a place where he and Lottie played pretend. They’d found a secret staircase hidden behind a thick tapestry and had spent countless hours exploring the underground tunnels.
It felt different now. Heavier. Haunted, not only by anchored, but by the memory of his father in a casket and the agony of saying goodbye. Of coming back later that night after hours searching the castle for his anchored, so angry at him for not staying.
August took a breath and stepped inside. The interior of the temple was dark, but he easily found the place where the doorway was hidden.
He moved blindly through the endless stretch of narrow hallway—avoiding the side tunnels that would lead back into the castle or outside the city—until he reached the door he knew would deposit him in a small prayer shrine just outside the castle walls.
The rest of the walk was easy. He’d carved the path between the two places over and over in his head, for no other reason than to hold onto the tiny bit of hope that he could go back some day.
When he finally stopped, he was standing in front of the small pub.Only then did the feel of needles in his fingertips finally fade.
Lottie watched August disappear through the front doors, clutching his diadem in both hands and wishing she could do more to help.
The storm clouds had always followed her brother around, but for most of their lives, she’d been able to chase them away.
She once dressed in their father’s oversized clothes, spouting a terrible imitation of his deep voice as she burst into August’s room. She’d tripped, thanks to his too-big shoes, and fell flat. August had laughed so hard, he ended up on the ground beside her.
But after they lost their father, something shifted and now there was this impossible distance sitting between them.
She’d hoped taking him out for their birthday would help. Getting out of the castle always helpedherwhen the utter dullness of her approved acquaintances grew too tedious to bear. She didn’t mind the gossip or the debates over the latest fashion, but sometimes she needed more. For August, however, the storm clouds seemed to double after the festival, and she didn’t know why.
How could she help him when he refused to tell her anything?
“Charlotte.”
Lottie hid the circlet behind her back as she whirled to face her mother at the far end of the foyer.
Aesran Erynda stood rigid, her gloved hands clasped—a mirror image of the marble statue at the base of the grand staircase. Her fair skin caught the light like smooth stone, and her warm brown hair was woven artfully around her silver crown, highlighting her strong jaw and high cheekbones.
Sebastian stood at her side, his helmet obscuring his eyes just enough to hide where he was looking. But Lottie felt him watching her, and it made her shiver.
He was young, but his features were sharpened to points. His brown hair peeked out from beneath the helmet, and his angled jaw was set in a hard line.
He had served as the aesran’s personal guard since Lottie was twelve. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen at the time, yet he was already one of the top cadets at the military academy. The youngest soldier ever selected for the royal guard. He’d been a constant silent presence in their lives ever since.
As the aesran crossed the foyer to Lottie, Sebastian stayed back, standing like a sentinel in the centre of the hall.
“Where is your brother?” she asked.
“He was feeling ill.” The lie was effortless, as usual.
