Page 30 of The Jester

“I chose you!” My voice booms so loudly the lanterns rattle and the flames quiver.

Alana blinks at me.

“I chose you. Now, let us establish some rules.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose as if she’s trying to understand what I’m saying.

“Every evening, after supper, you will come here to me. You will wear whatever outfit I tell you to wear. You will answer my questions. And then you will return to your chambers. As long as you keep to this arrangement, no harm will come to you or your kin.”

At the mention of her friends – even though they are friends who have exiled her for the past century – her eyes widen.

“They will be safe if you do as I say.”

There is a long pause, then Alana dips her head and says, “Very well, my Llord. As you wish.”

When she looks up, her eyes meet mine. Pale green, like sea glass, they are almost completely mesmerising. But as I look into them, I remember.

Light, and fire, and pain, and blood. Walls crumbling, waves lapping at the walls of the citadel. And the noise... the noise.

“That will be all for tonight.” I stand up, walk to the window, and press my head against the glass. Outside, the citadel glows with moonlight and lanterns. The walls are intact. There is no noise.

“You swear they will be safe?” she repeats her question as she reaches the door.

“Do as I say, and they will not be harmed,” I promise her.

She pauses. I can feel her breathing. I can feel the burning questions she needs to ask but daren’t. Instead, she leaves silently. And I drink myself to sleep.

Chapter Thirteen

ALANA

Briony and I do not speak as we travel back through the castle towards my chambers. The Grand Hall still bustles with noise, but it is the noise of a feast, not a celebration, leading me to assume the jester’s performance is over.

When we reach my chambers and the door closes behind us, I cross quickly to the bed and sit down hard. My breath rises in my chest, panic clawing at my insides because it took every ounce of willpower not to show weakness in front of that man.

“Are you all right, my lady?” Briony asks, kneeling in front of me, staring up.

I shake my head and motion for her to stand up. “Please stop calling me that. Call me Alana, and do not kneel for me,” I tell her.

She nods, rubbing her arms nervously, then fetches me a glass of water because, clearly, she needs to feel like she’s being helpful.

“What happened?” she asks. “Did he . . .?”

I drink down the water and push my hair back from my face. “We just talked,” I tell her. I’m about to say he didn’t lay a finger on me, but that’s not entirely true.

I look down at my gloves. I pulled them back on as I left. And although I’ve worn them so many times before, they now feel unfamiliar and strange.

He did touch me, but it was not how I expected it to be. He is not how I expected him to be.

I stand up and cross to the window, opening it in the hope that a cool breeze might enter, then remembering the outside is nothing but thick, hot, and humid.

“He says he wants to see me every day.” I turn, leaning against the sill and raising my eyebrows. “To talk.”

Briony frowns at me quizzically. “He wants to talk with you?”

I nod and reach for another glass of water, wishing it was something stronger. “He said he wants to learn about the Leafborne – about the elementals. He said if I do what he asks and answer his questions, no harm will come to me or my people.”

Briony has turned to sit down. She chooses the stone bench in front of the fireplace and leans forward onto her knees. “That is not what I expected,” she says, and I can’t quite read the look on her face.

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