Page 224 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

Neel, momentarily startled, tried to maintain his composure and professionalism. He gently placed the jug down and returned Rain’s embrace. “I have missed you too, your highness.”

Pulling away, Rain patted Neel fondly on the back before taking a seat opposite Snow. One glance at her and he noticed the dark shadows beneath her eyes; she had slept as poorly as he had. As he grabbed a slice of buttered toast, he scanned her energy. The confirmation hit instantly: she too had tossed and turned all night, her dreams filling her with the same gnawing dread that plagued him. Like him, she was avoiding the topic.

“Neel, how would your husband feel about relocating?” Rain asked casually, even as Snow narrowed her eyes at him; she knew he was reading her, but he chose not to push. He didn’t want to recount his nightmares aloud either.

“There isn’t much I’d wish to bring with me if I find myself permanently unwelcome here,” he continued, “but I have decidedly become very attached to you. And if fending for myself over the last few weeks has taught me anything, it’s that you are a very valuable asset.”

“What I’m hearing, sir, is that you hated every moment of self-sufficiency and would like to steal me away from your father’s employment,” Neel teased as he finished pouring Rain a glass of orange juice.

A grin tugged at Rain’s lips as he devoured the rest of his toast.

“But to answer your question,” Neel added, “I was hired to serve you, and I will continue to do so until you decide otherwise. My husband understands that is what I signed up for when I accepted this position.”

For some reason, Neel’s words felt like a comforting hug he hadn’t realised he needed. With so much uncertainty in the air, Neel’s reaffirmed loyalty offered a small but vital anchor.

“I don’t suppose there is anything I could say to talk you out of attending the tournament today?” Snow asked. The apprehension in her voice made Rain pause. He frowned, confused by her sudden plea.

She laughed drily and placed her Connekt on the table. “I watched you die in my dreams last night. Not just once—every time I tried to go back to sleep. And I’m worried it’s an omen.”

Her breath faltered as she stared at him. “I can’t shake the feeling it’s meant as a warning. What if something bad happens today? Drazier is so close, and they’ve surrounded our borders. It doesn’t feel like the best time for you to be leaving the protection of our kingdom.”

His gaze softened. He understood her fear; his own night terrors had him wanting to lock her safely in her room but he knew the fear was irrational.

“It’s not as if I’m safer here,” he said gently. “If Drazier were idiotic enough to launch an attack—which is highly improbable—Father would send me straight to the front line, and I would go willingly. You know that.”

She flinched, the truth hitting too close.

“The tournament is in neutral territory,” he added. “The biggest threat to me there is myself.”

She remained displeased but couldn’t argue with his logic.

“Fine,” she muttered. “But you’ll have to forgive me while I stick to you like glue all day—if only to settle my own nerves. The dreams were horrendous. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t protect you.”

Snow glanced away, her fingers tracing anxious patterns on the tablecloth. Silence settled over them. Rain took a long sip of orange juice, letting the cool liquid ground him. He wished he could reassure her, but the truth was their mutual sense of foreboding, it lingered like a shadow neither wanted to name.

He nudged her foot beneath the table; a small gesture, a reminder that they were here, together, and alive.

“Hey,” he said lightly, “did my fiancé make it home last night?”

Snow shrugged. “Virginia left to join her late last night. Candy refused to return to the palace and chose to stay in a Grey territory hotel instead.”

Rain mouthed wow. Snow raised her brows in agreement; Candy was trouble.

Chapter 59

The atmosphere shifted the moment the twins stepped aboard the rear carriage of the train heading to Greyswater Stadium. Together, they were a striking sight; unmistakable in any crowd. As aetherials, they stood noticeably taller than the average human, their advanced healing and longevity lending them flawless alabaster skin, made even more striking by the contrast of their dark hair. But what made them truly identifiable was the intense green stare they shared—so identical it bordered on unsettling—making it nearly impossible for onlookers to look away.

Beyond their physical similarities, an unmistakable aura surrounded them: a powerful, regal energy that set them apart. In their presence, mortals couldn’t help but feel as though they stood before beings almost godlike in comparison.

Emily—oblivious to the tension in the air—squealed with delight and launched herself at Rain, flinging her arms around his waist and burying her face against his black cotton t-shirt. Rain gently patted her back. Several mortal passengers stared in shock, their wary gazes flicking between the affectionate girl and the formidable Blue prince. They expected him to tear Emily down for treating him so casually; in their defence, most royals did treat humans as less than.

Undeterred by the glares, Emily greeted Snow with equal enthusiasm before tugging Rain eagerly toward the back of the carriage, whereJasmine, Daphne, Thomas, and Rogan were already seated. Their faces brightened when Snow appeared beside Rain; her presence still novel among the group, or so Rain told himself.

Despite the warmth that greeted them, Rain immediately noticed the absence of Jay and Wren. Unease rippled through him. Jasmine caught the shift in his expression and quickly spoke up.

“Wren and Jay got on an earlier train; they’re already at the arena waiting for us.”

Rain nodded and took the window seat beside her. While his friends chattered with cheerful enthusiasm, he remained quiet, staring blindly out the window, trying to ignore the persistent unease gnawing at him. Less than sixteen hours ago, Jay had been safe in his room; he clung to that fact, but it did little to soothe him.