I stare at Luke, dumbstruck and getting hot under the collar. “I… what?”
“You spent two whole days with him. You know his name.”
The stableboy has left a set of portable stairs at the beast’s side, and Luke settles in the saddle, ready for his morning ride. Looking at me from above, he makes the picture of a perfect Dark Companion to the Lord of the Nocturne Court. His eyelids are painted with dusky shadows, his skin is so pale, and he carries the aura of someone who knows his position. For the two years he’s been here, he’s grown adept at navigating court intrigues and has become his husband’s biggest asset in that regard.
Yet all I crave is the sun-kissed human who blushes quickly, smiles almost too widely, and is so kind he died saving a puppy. I’ve fallen for his openness and honesty as if it’s what I’ve been missing after a whole life at court.
I’ve never been much of a schemer, so I might have overdone it with pretending how much Idon’tcare about Nate. It’s a trickybalance I’ve never been able to strike, so instead I usually rely on brashness and confrontation. When it comes to Nate though, I want to keep my cards close to my chest.
I shrug and grin at him. “You know me. Memory like a sieve.”
Not when it comes to Nate. I remember every beauty spot and freckle on him. The way he smelled of wood and amber, how two of the dark curls on his forehead were longer than the rest.
How he pressed his face to the crook of my neck and teased me with his warm breath all night long. How he looked at me, cold and forlorn, right after I fished him out of the River of Souls. And maybe one day, I will have the best of artisans work on a tapestry woven out of all the memories we make.
But first, I need him back at my side, not soaking up Gloombane’s poison.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the gradual cooldown of Nate’s interest in me had something to do with his promised besmirching my name every day. Telling him what a failure I’ve been to let Prince Kyranis die, or that I’m incompetent as a Nightcloak, or any manner of lies for that matter.
I’m deep in my thoughts when Luke hums, “And there’s the mail. Let me know if they’re arriving,” he says, and he’s off.
Might be for the better, because I don’t want him to witness my disappointment, if the missive proves as dry as the last one
The postman is on horseback, and I rush to stop him before he even gets to the stables. Lady is right by me, just like I taught her.
“At last!” I say, standing in the middle of the paved road. The glow of the swamplight lamp attached to his saddle reveals a frown on the man’s handsome features. I suppose it isn’t often that someone stalls him before he can reach his destination. Other than perhaps bandits somewhere along the stretches of road leading through the forest.
His gaze passes me up and down as he looks for clues to my identity, but I haven’t made it easy for him. I was never muchinto fashion, and unless I’m somewhere in an official capacity, my clothing of choice consists of leather pants and loose, flowing shirts. Granted, it is cold enough that I’m wearing my jacket, but the Bloodweed crest is embroidered on its back. I suppose he must have noticed the green gold of my buttons and buckles, because he bows, lowering his head until I can barely see his face.
“Ser?”
“Ser Tristan. Prince Tristan Bloodweed. Is there any mail for me?” I ask impatiently and hold out my hand. It’s highly irregular for a royal to pick up his own post, so I don’t blame him for not recognizing me. I just want to read any message coming from Nate as soon as possible.
I have never been in such a frenzy over a lover. My stomach is clenching in anticipation, because there must besomemail from the tower.
The postman freezes, then slides off his horse and bows much lower than before. “Prince Tristan Bloodweed! My apologies, I have never delivered to the palace before. Of course… I mean, there is plenty of mail for the royal family. I am certain I’ve seen your name on one of them,” he adds, opening one of the saddlebags to reveal neat rows of folded paper.
He licks his lips, briefly glancing at Lady, but seeing me pet her forehead seems to have a reassuring effect on him. “That’s... an unusually tame wolf, Ser Tristan. Will they too be off the menu, like the bats?” he asks, browsing through the letters.
I’m so focused on the envelopes it takes me a few seconds to catch on, but I eventually laugh. Right. Luke loves bats, so the Lord of the Nocturne Court forbade all the elves in his principality from consuming them. Wolves aren’t particularly tasty, with the exception of their hearts, so they’re rarely eaten anyway. I know the answer as soon as I look into Lady’s big, glowing red eyes.
“Very probable. She’s a dog though. They’re different. Obedient and kind, even if protective.” The postman raises his eyebrows at me. “She’s from the human realm,” I add quickly.
His full lips form a funnel perfect for the whistle he makes next. “I’ll be damned! I’ve never seen such an exotic creature. I would… very much like to learn more about them,” he muses, approaching me with a single piece of paper bearing Gloombane’s seal. “I hate to be so forward, but would that be possible, Prince Tristan?”
I’m so focused on the seal, I only realize now that he’s trying to catch my gaze, and he’s a little flushed. When he passes me the letter, he slides his fingers over mine for just a moment, but enough to be bold.
My mind is so far away from even considering anyone other than Nate that I’m taken by surprise. I hold up the letter. “This is too urgent. Another time maybe, thank you,” I say to soften the blow, and walk off, because I’m greedy to be alone with the precious piece of paper that holds my future.
I whistle at Lady when she stays back by the postman for too long, and she makes a happy yap before following me.
I break the seal as soon as I’m on the stairs inside, my heart pounding.
Chapter 14
Tristan
The tone of the letter is dry.
