“Uhm, I know the next couple of days were spent fully immersed in the training hall, trying to work on Aimee’s shadows so she can travel to Reweroth with the King. I saw the frustration etched on her graceful face each night when she would tell me how, no matter what they tried, she wasn’t able to trigger her shadow walking.”
Nella chews on her lip in concentration as she recalls the past days.
“Something happened the night before last, but I can’t tell you what. Aimee just barricaded herself in her chamber, refusing dinner and my company. Then yesterday, I brought her lunch and Killian’s goblet of blood in the training hall. They seemed terser than usual, which was daunting to witness, so I didn’t linger around.”
She sighs before continuing.
“I am sorry, Blaise, but that’s all I can think of. The next time I went to Aimee’s chamber to bring her the evening meal, she was not there. I thought nothing of it, and I didn’t go searching for her or Killian, hoping that maybe they were, uhm, solving their problems?”
Nella’s cheeks go impossibly red, and I chuckle at the implication of her words. I know what she means by “solving their problems.”
“There you have it, Blaise. They must have figured out how to travel by shadows to Reweroth,” Sariah says.
“Mhm,” I grunt, unconvinced. “It seems so.”
“Then why so grumpy, pretty boy?” she asks, looking at me quizzically.
“What if we assume they’re safe, and they’re not?” My voice breaks a little at the thought. “I can’t lose him, Sariah. Either of them. They are not only the saviors of this realm. They’re my family. My only one.”
Her azure eyes soften, and she detangles herself from Nella and takes me by surprise, wrapping her arms around me and giving me a reassuring squeeze.
“We will find them, Blaise, I promise you. If anything is amiss at the Fae court, my brother will alert me. And we will get them back. But I believe they are in the human kingdom. You must have faith,” she whispers.
I bury my nose in her silken hair and breathe in her delicate scent, like a field of jasmine under the moonlight. I could get lost in her gentle touch, and I’m not sure I want to unpack the meaning behind such a feeling right now.
I reluctantly let go of her and offer her a curt nod.
“Go on, accompany Nella to your chamber. Let me know if your brother contacts you with any news.”
“Of course,” she says before taking Nella’s hand as if they’ve been friends forever, and they leave me alone in Killian’s study.
I stare at the closed door long after they’re gone.
She said to have faith, but I lost mine six hundred years ago.
It perished with my family in that long-forgotten village.
All I have left are my coping mechanisms and deflective behavior, but neither seems to serve me around Sariah.
Chapter 12
Aimee
IwalkthecorridorsofKasbah Sol’Kantarra with my chin held high, as if I hadn’t crossed the same hallways in the dead of night, stark naked like a newborn.
I didn’t stumble upon any curious gazes, but that doesn’t mean that no soul witnessed my shameful walk.
Yet, as I stride through the palace, guided by a petite human toward the meeting with the human leaders, I am resolute on two things.
The first is to exude calm confidence and focus on the crucial reason we came here in the first place: securing the alliance with the humans. I hope Killian didn’t fuck it up irremediably last night when he attacked Mael like a savage. I was half expecting the High General to knock on my door this morning, and I was prepared to ask for forgiveness on behalf of that vampire asshole. Seeing how he didn’t show up, but sent instead the brunette who’s leading the way on silent feet, I’m worried about how grim our prospects really are.
The second is to ignore Killian at all costs, unless our interaction is to pacify the rulers of Reweroth.
I meant what I told him. Our brief foray into madness changes nothing between us. My flesh and my shadows might be weak for him, but my mind will not succumb to his possessive proclamations so easily.
As we stop in front of a tall archway that leads into an inner courtyard bordered by trees—orange blossoms in bloom—I feel my anxiety kick up a few notches. I swipe my sweaty palms against the pleated folds of my gold-hued gown and steady my breath before I step into the sunlit space. I concentrate on the sweet, citrusy fragrance wafting through the air, on the melodic chirps of little birds hiding on the branches, and on the trickle of water down the marble fountain in the middle of the courtyard.
Hidden in the thick foliage of the orangery, there’s a low, round, wooden table with intricate detailing stitched into its sides and several leather ottomans placed around it.
