“You say that now, but when it comes time for you and Esi to climb up and down, it’s going to create a challenge.”
“We can use the curtains to create a rope.”
“I don’t think the royals would appreciate us using their stuff like that.”
“You don’t seem to like Esi’s plan.”
Bron crossed his arms, showing off his muscles. He only wore a vest, the chest plate steel. “I’m not able to keep my eyes on Esi.If she gets hurt, it will be my fault. Plus, I don’t trust that shop owner of yours.” Bron shivered. “Apothecaries like to promise one thing but deliver on another. I don’t trust him—and, by extension, you.”
Iskra took him in. Bron wasn’t wrong for distrusting Kryth. Iskra didn’t trust him either, and in every spare moment, she wondered why exactly Kryth had allowed her to participate in this plan.
Then, Iskra wondered about Bron’s relationship with Esi and how fiercely he protected her. It couldn’t just be loyalty and fear making him clutch his duties tightly. Was it love, obsession, or something entirely self-motivated? Iskra didn’t have enough time to figure it out quite yet.
“Good thing Esi will be back for dinner.” Even though the sun set late in the Sun Court, Esi promised to return earlier to at least acquaint herself with the man she was destined to marry.
He ignored Iskra. “I’m going to my room. It’s across the hall. If she doesn’t show up or if you need anything, knock three times. I’ll know it's you.”
Bron left her, and all Iskra could do was anchor her head back and allow the sun to shine on her skin. She savored its warmth, because in a few short weeks, when Jasyn and Esi married, Iskra would just be ash in the wind.
Three
Iskra’s right buttock was sore from switching with Esi last night. Esi had struggled to climb up the roped sheets Iskra had thrown down to her, and it had required Bron and Iskra to heave her up as slyly as possible, which was a difficult feat. Once Esi had made it to the other side of the balcony, she swore under her breath.
“There has to be an easier way,” Esi had mumbled as she wiped at the leaves clinging to her dress.
“I should go,” Iskra had responded, quickly taking the sheet, tying it to the balcony, and sliding down, only to land ungracefully on her backside. But sunset had been on the brink of night, and Iskra had needed to rush.
When she returned to the shop, Kryth had been waiting by the door, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Shortly after they got inside, darkness swept over the court, and Iskra’s body shifted, her fingertips and toes tingling. Back into the small cage she went.
Today, at new light, Iskra tip-toed back to the castle. Undoubtedly, Esi had left for the day, so Iskra needed to make it there before anyone noticed.
Before she’d left the shop—wearing a green lace dress, which would have suited her auburn hair better—Iskra had looked at herself in the mirror. Even if only her hair color and texture had been the features to change, she barely recognized herself.
She was weaving through the bramble in another pair of uncomfortable heels when she heard grunts and heaves. Curious, Iskra made her way toward the noise, still in awe of the castle grounds. Everything felt so intentional, yet she was inclined to believe the roots grew of their own volition, whatever way Goddess Slone desired. The castle workers just ensured everything was well-kept.
On the other side of an iron-wrought gate, Prince Jasyn stood in the center of a courtyard. There was no one else in sight, but she doubted he wasn’t being watched by his guard from some veiled angle.
Iskra hunched so she could hide as she watched.
He slashed a sword against no opponent, his movements quick and light. They flowed like the weapon was an extension of those toned, golden brown arms. She would have considered it beautiful had she not thought aboutwhyhe was training. She was ready to move along to her room when the unexpected happened.
Jasyn spun and kicked, and when he made it back around, he projected his free hand out. A sliver of light bloomed from his palm—a graceful, quiet wave of light.
Iskra gasped and stumbled in her heeled shoes, the sound of swaying leaves unforgiving. Jasyn whipped his attention in her direction, and she knew she was caught.
“Lady Esi?” His voice was hesitant, unsure, perhaps even shy.
Iskra pushed back the strand of hair that had fallen in her face and finally got the courage to move from her hiding place. She knew Bron would be livid when he heard about this.
Iskra cleared her throat as she entered the courtyard, the hinges of the gate squeaking behind her.
“Prince Jasyn,” she curtsied.
Jasyn put the sword back in its sheath at his hip. “What are you doing out so early?”
“I could ask you the same.”
“This is my home,” he countered, and she decided not to bring up how this was Esi’s home now too.
