He’s different around his knights, more guarded. Stern and closed off. I suppose it’s normal and expected of the High Warden, but I can’t help but feel flutters at the fact that I have seen this other side to him. I hear a knock on the door, and my heart pounds in my chest. Slowly opening it to reveal wide-eyed Kael.
“Damn, plant girl, you clean up good,” he remarks, giving me his trademark grin. I blush at his words, but it doesn’t make me want to change back into something more casual. Something I can blend into the background with. It makes me want to stand a little taller.
“Are you ready?” he asks me, offering me his arm as I link my hand into his elbow.
“Ready,” I say. “Where’s Rowan?” I ask.
“He’ll be there. He’s on his usual nighttime activities, whatever the hell it is he does.”
I linger on that for longer than I should. I guess I just assumed Kael would know where he goes in the evening. The walk to ‘The Mourning’ takes us through the upper halls of the castle, the parts that are seen. Torches burn brighter here, orbs steady with their lights catching on polished stone. Fresh banners hang from the arches as if someone is trying to make this place seem more alive than it is. The doors to the hall stand open, revealing a room so vast it echoes. Designers clearly built it for crowds that no longer gather.
It was once rich but is now left to starve.
The tables and chandeliers make it look impressive nonetheless but it’s like decay dressed in silk. Conversations murmur at the edges of the room. People speak in low voices and offer controlled smiles. Despite their beautiful attire, everyone looks exhausted. This isn’t a celebration. It’s a performance, a ritual meant to convince the people that Greyhollow is still whole. But I’m not sure how many people believe it anymore. I hear the faint giggles of women to my left.
I turn to glance at them as they look away. Kael gives me a quick nudge.
“Eat, drink, enjoy.” He glances at the women. “I’m here if you need me,” he winks at me before sauntering off toward the giggles.
Great.
“Well, if it isn’t my botanist free of her dirty overalls.” I turn to the voice on my right, coming face to face with the King himself. We haven’t spoken since our deal was bargained, the deal that’s kept me trapped in my glass prison. I decide to leave the niceties and cut to the chase.
“Why hold a banquet to honour a dying land?” My comment must catch him off guard as he stands immediately on the defensive.
“Have you forgotten who it is you are talking to, child?”
“The king of death and decay?” I don’t know where any of this is coming from, even more so my ability to say it, but I figure he needs me enough that I can safely say I’ll come to no harm. The musicians falter for half a second before correcting themselves. His smile doesn’t fade, but something in his eyes sharpens. He smooths the material of his cloak, as if to brush dust from it.
“You have been here mere moments, and you think you can cast judgment on a realm you know nothing of?” His eyes narrow in disgust.
“You are lucky you have a skill I require. Or you would be dead with the rest of them,” he says, his voice dipping low.
“The rest of them?” I ask.
“Traitors. Idealists. Boys who think knowledge makes them cleverer than a crown.” My stomach tightens, and his name leaves my mouth before I realise I’ve said it.
“Masen?”
His eyes flicker.
“Do not speak that name to me.” His tone is almost wicked.
Almost.
Voices fall silent. He inhales, slow and measured, before his smile returns. Settling back into place like the crown atop his head.
“Now,” he says lightly, glancing towards the musicians and smiling at the crowds of people around us as if nothing has happened. “Shall we enjoy the evening?”
I give him a smile before bowing and walking away, my heart pounding in my chest. I spot Thomas seated at the table, looking bored and fed up. Remembering my promise to offer him a dance, I approach him. His face lights up when he spots me, a faint pink tinging his cheeks.
“Miss, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you, and seriously, you need to stop with the ‘miss’. My name is Elodie.” I say, more to remind myself, since I appear to be acting like a completely different person tonight.
“Would you like to dance?” he says to me, offering his hand with a bow.
“Of course…” I’m cut off by a dark shadow that appears on my left. My hand drops back to my side as we turn to Rowan, his face flickering with something I haven’t seen before.
