My boots hit the stone as I strode through the maze of endless halls, my legs carrying me to an old familiar place. I might not have known all the corridors in the castle, but I knew my way to the Sutton’s private area—more specifically, a certain royal bedroom.
I had almost arrived at the royal corridor when I found Mirael leaning against the wall, speaking to another woman. Even from behind, and at a distance, the woman’s bony frame was startling compared to the softer features of a fae.
“King Grave, have you lost your way?” the healer teased and offered a smile. “Or perhaps you are looking for a familiar bedroom to occupy your time? I can retrieve Princess Sutton for you.”
When I was fifteen, we had a brief week-long fling. I’d been careless with my newly given position and entangled myself with the princess of a kingdom which never respected my father or mother. Believing it was possible that a Sutton could see past one’s familial line was naive.
I would never forget the time I spent with Leanna, both because of the joy it brought me in a time I was broken, but also because it reaffirmed what I’d already known: every Sutton wasthe same. They were driven by their own desires and would do whatever they could to attain them, often at the expense of others.
“I’m not here for her.” I paused and eyed the back of the dark-haired woman’s head. Her locks were stringy, and the ends were jagged as if she’d taken scissors to her hair herself rather than seeking a barber.
Mirael’s gaze followed mine, prompting the woman to turn. And when she did, something in the pit of my stomach pulled toward her. She held the same dark eyes as my sister, and my mind soared with a dozen questions I couldn’t organize.
“I believe he is here with a different interest.” The woman’s blood-red lips smiled. “For feelings he cannot confess.”
“Have we met before?” Admitting I hadn’t recognized someone when perhaps I should’ve, pushed me to the edge of embarrassment. I was fairly proficient at remembering those in Crofea and even kept a detailed book of the few I met from the Alden Islands.
Mirael looked between the woman and me and fidgeted.
“I’m—” I started, and extended a hand.
“I know who you are.” The woman cut me off almost immediately. “No need for introductions, I can see the sign. For your magic sings from your father’s line.”
Lifting my chin, I stood while she took a moment to look me up and down.
The woman’s head tilted. “It’s interesting, isn’t it?” A slight smile passed across her lips as she let the still air settle over us.
My voice caught in my throat, and instead of words, only a graveled hum escaped.
“Just like your father, you find yourself drawn to a fae, but it is for love and not a simple lay.” The woman tsk’d. “History does like to repeat itself, doesn’t it? Let’s hope for your sake you have a better outcome than he did.”
My stomach sank as the words remained swirling in my mind.
“Keep her close, Grave,” the woman said. “For if you do not, she will become a Sutton slave.”
Before I could respond, the woman walked away, leaving me both baffled and irritated. Few knew of my father's true nature, and certainly no one residing in Rivale knew of his brutality. This woman, however, knew something.
“How can I help you?” Mirael interrupted my thoughts. Her eyes set on the woman gliding down the hall; she was a menace—one I hadn’t been prepared to encounter.
I shook my head, mind still reeling.
“I will advise the princess of your visit.” The healer turned toward the vigilant guard standing at the mouth of the corridor.
“I’m here for you,” I snapped. Mirael’s head turned, and her face heated. Realizing my mistake, I spoke quickly, “Not to bed you—I would never.”
Her face dropped.
“Not that you’re not acceptable, I’m just not—” My words stumbled. The interaction was becoming worse with each word that left my mouth.
“I see you like digging your own …” she said, and paused for theatrical effect, “grave.” The corners of the woman’s deep-sea colored eyes crinkled as I rolled my eyes.
Shifting, I considered the best way to get the information I so badly sought. “I’m feeling unwell, and considering the events at dinner, I wanted to see how the woman was faring.”
“The woman?” Mirael pressed and raised an eyebrow.
I blew out a breath. “You know I’m referring to Audryn.”
“Well, you don’t appear sick.” She looked me over. “Have you vomited, or does your belly ache? Have you lost control of your bowels?”
