A chill rushes through me before I see red and swing. Kilkenny’s on the ground before I even register what’s happened. My chest heaves and my pulse roars in my ears, hair rising on the back of my neck. My hands tingle. Too much dressmaking, probably. Too little sleep. Too much frustration.
Kilkenny jumps to his feet and stares down at me so intensely that I fear he’ll hitme.
“I-I’m sorry,” I stutter, taking a step back. “I didn’t even feel… I didn’t realize…” I splay my fingers before my face and stare at them, perplexed. Kilkenny reaches out and takes my left hand in his.
“Did that hurt?” he asks, gently turning my hand over.
My heart is still racing as I yank my hand from him. “No.”
“What did you feel?”
I felt anger!What does he expect? I don’t bother to respond; I only stare at him, my fists clenched as though I’m physically holding on to the last strand of control. He couldn’t have meant those things. Could he? Most likely he was just goading me on, trying to provoke the very reaction I gave him. I’m ashamed I took the bait.
Kilkenny rubs his cheek and then scratches the back of his neck. The awkward moment stretches on and on with Kilkenny staring at me like I’m a puzzle to be solved. Then at last he exhales, and his stance relaxes. “I didn’t mean what I said about Undesirables. I did enforce it because I had to, but that was in the past.”
My forehead creases and I shift slightly on my feet.
“Change of plans. Tonight, we’ll do some meditation; everyone needs to center themselves sometimes. Especially when you work in this place.” He waves vaguely in the direction of the castle. “Tomorrow, more self-defense.”
CHAPTER 28
Durvla
Nearly a fortnight goes by,filled with days of dressmaking and evenings with various lessons from Kilkenny. The horseback riding lessons precede self-defense and meditation sessions. He’s as careful as can be, vigilant of myvaluable hands, as he so mockingly puts it. He insists that meditation is as important as learning to protect myself—mental strength boosts physical strength andmayhelp steady those newborn foal legs, he’d said. As suspicious as I am about Killjoy Kilkenny’s insistence on teaching me these things, they’ve become a surprisingly welcome distraction.
Doing something other than dressmaking keeps me from worrying too much about Taig and Osheen. About Osheen’s family. It keeps me from wallowing in the increasingly vivid nightmares that sap my energy on an almost nightly basis.
I’d take another lewd dream any day over the ones filled with fire and omens, demons, and darkness. On a good night, I dream of warmer shores, sunshine, and sand beneath my toes. I dream of lush forests and deep blue oceans. Of sailing. Or flying. Clearly my subconscious is fed by my desire to get out of this place.
I use it as a driving force to complete Princess Carys’s dress, and I manage to balance a rapidly growing social life within the palace. My time with Princess Carys varies as the breakfast consultations grow shorter, but also less daunting.
It’s hard to believe that I’ve been here for nearly a month. Brick by brick, my reservations about Mainlanders—at leasttheseMainlanders—are torn down. I’ve grown accustomed to the way everyone speaks and lipreading is easier. I find myself able to relax a little more, and my fear of being discovered as an Undesirable is pushed to the back of my mind.
Ellynne is an absolute sweetheart, consistently attentive, and so very open about her love life. Ostanha be damned, she’s open abouteveryone’slove life—everyone’s but Carys’s. She’s made it her mission to ensure everyone finds time forfun, as she puts it—as if she’s the god of love herself.
Lowri, on the other hand, is willing to speak when addressed, but otherwise reserved and secretive. While Ellynne is the picture of punctuality and never late to any summons, despite whose bed she’s in—and she makes a point to tell us—Lowri is the opposite. Always running late, always profusely apologetic.
Even Eefa has become a daily part of my life, often saving a slice of lemon cake for me. She’s overtly flirtatious with Carys, while Callum secretly worships the ground Carys walks on. Whether Carys sees that, I’m not sure. It likely doesn’t matter, since she’s to be married to a nobleman of high standing or another royal. Still, the way Callum looks at her is heartwarming, yetheartbreaking.
Kilkenny is… Kilkenny. Too confusing to dwell on.
As much as I want to return to Cluain Baile, to my sweet boy, I know I will miss these surprisingly lovely people.
Who would have imagined that I’d come to actually like Mainlanders? Even more surprising, who would’ve imagined they’d likeme?
Five days before the Feast, by some divine intervention, all I have left to do is embellish the bodice of Princess Carys’s dress with tiny gold beads. I’m rather proud of the dress. I hope the princess will love it.
As if I’ve summoned her, Princess Carys waltzes into my room. “Is it done?” she asks, but this time there’s no anger or hurried aggression directed at me. Only eagerness.
I beam at her. “Just a few more finishing touches, but yes.”
She comes to an abrupt stop, her eyes wide. “Yes?”
“I’m just sewing on a few more beads and that’s it. Do you want to try it on?”
“Is that even a question?” She walks farther into my room and pulls the string of the call bell.
I tear my focus away from it to Princess Carys. “I’m going to focus fully on this last bit for a moment, so I may not hear you. Just… one moment. Is that alright?”
