“You will, Evera.”
Shaking my head, I sidestepped the table and retreated a few paces, needing to be anywhere else. The sickening feeling of grasping for a lifeline that would not come hollowed me to my very core. What would be left of me without my work in the shop? What would be the point of my existence if the very thing that drove me was taken away?
Aureus stepped toward me and spoke in a cautioning tone. “Don’t run off, Evera. I know you’re upset, but this isn’t the place to go off making rash choices and bad decisions—”
I took a step back, the panic in my chest funneling into rage.
Worry flashed in his eyes, and he grasped for my hand. “Evera—”
“Let me go.” I enunciated each word, bitten sharply through my teeth. Aureus sucked in a breath but relented.
I shook my head and turned, disappearing into the crowd before he could see the wetness that dampened my lashes and threatened to tear.
5
NEIRIN
With the coolstone of the southern gatehouse at my back, I looked across the courtyard. The space was bordered by a formidable stone bailey where soldiers paced, keeping an eye on the ongoing festivities, all the way to the front of the castle and beyond, to the northern gatehouse. Yellow candlelight flickered from sconces along the bailey wall, casting a dance of light and shadows among the colorful gowns and formalwear of those gathered before me.The soft plucking thrum of a lute came from the stage, nearly drowned out by laughter and conversation.
From the crowd, a burly man with onyx hair and a shadow of stubble on his square jaw made his way toward me. I nodded a greeting to the guard, though agitation sent gooseflesh sweeping across my skin at his appearance.
“Neirin.” He clasped a hand on my shoulder. His grip was firm, and while the gesture appeared friendly, I understood it for what it was: a show of power..
I raised my chin.
“I’m surprised to see you posted here,” he stated, his dour expression a mirror of his father’s.He turned, and I followed his gaze to the upper-level balcony where Kaius slouched on his throne, a golden chalice in his hand.Astraea’s throne besidehim sat empty. My stomach churned. Though she was likely preparing for her show of philanthropy, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease at her absence.
“Being tasked to patrol the courtyard is a mark of my rank, Cyan. Your father posted me here because of my skills.” Unfortunately, Rion had been too preoccupied to speak with the King about finding another to take my position in the western lands. Tomorrow I would converse with him. I pushed off the stone wall and stepped to Cyan’s side, keeping my eyes on the crowd.
“You shouldn’t even be a castle guard,” Cyan pressed, tone flat. Positions among the guard were highly sought after and only offered to those of high standing—the sons and nephews of lords or men of the court, typically. Though the King’s blood ran in my veins, I was a nameless bastard. A nameless bastard who was meant to be sent off to Valio to train the sons of a lord in swordsmanship. The irony was bitter in the back of my throat. All I wanted was to blend in, to stay where I could keep an eye on Harlan, and protect him.
Veiling my thoughts, I shrugged, letting Cyan’s prodding fall flat. It would be easy to counter him, to draw attention to the reason he was stationed here—as a way for the commander to keep an eye on him and ensure his perversion caused no further issues. But there was something more satisfying in simply showing his words didn’t affect me.
A moment of quiet fell as the lutanist left the stage and a bard took his place. He picked up a quick tone and bellowed loud enough to draw the attention of those farther away. Several clapped, and many stepped from the flock to dance in the moonlight, the rapping of their shoes on the marble floor adding to the rhythm of the song.
The guard beside me rolled his lip, attention focused on a group of young women gathered before the stage, their plainbeige and brown skirts flowing as they spun around each other. The oldest could have been no more than four and ten. A bit young, even for Cyan. Perhaps there would be no avoiding the subject after all.
“Rion’s shadow will not always protect you,” I said. “Consider that before you succumb to your predilections.”
Cyan sneered and spoke in a low voice. “The women I choose to wet my cock with are not of your concern.”
I inhaled deeply through my nose, balancing myself. “They”—I gestured with a nod—“are girls, not women.”
Cyan scoffed. “Those girlsare using the festival as an excuse to dance in the courtyard and pretend to be something they never will be—”
“Whether they are ladies or not does not matter.”
“Except it does.”
I turned to Cyan, his flat tone drawing my attention to the cold depth of his eyes.
“Ever the chivalrous bastard,” he said, “stepping in to protect the virtue of young girls. But their purity doesn’t matter; no one cares if a commoner’s ruined. I’m sure whatever farmer or farrier they get shackled to will be grateful I broke them in for him.”
Clenching my jaw, I put a hand casually on the pommel of my sword. “Give me a reason, Cyan, and we will see who the stronger swordsman is.” To draw a sword on the commander’s son, even for good intentions, would lead to considerable consequences. There was an allure to knowing that causing a scene would soil any chances of being sent to Valio. However, if Cyan were to meet my challenge and accept the duel in the middle of a festival—
No, that would have me dismissed from the guard, if not jailed. I would be of no use to my brother in a cell.
Flexing his fist, Cyan leaned into me, lowering his voice. “Back down.”
