Page 99 of Of Glass and of Gold

A prince used to getting his way.

Maybe my message last night was the clarity he needed. We couldn’t be the same to each other as we were before.

The timing of my monthly cycle perfectly aligned with my desire to barricade myself in my room and just rest. Helena knew how horrendous my cramps were during those first three days, so sending word that I’d miss a few shifts wasn’t uncommon every month. If Caine had a problem with it, he could help himself to the bloody napkins in the bin for proof.

So for the next couple days, battling pains that nearly made me sick, I didn’t have to think about anything. An oddly welcomed distraction.

49

Nicholas

The royal convoy stopped at the end of the curved road between Sunvale and South Harbor. With a repeated command, the guardsmen stayed with the carriage and horses. I couldn’t recall the last time, if ever, I’d walked the streets of Highcrest dressed with no intention of hiding my identity.

The morning sun beat down, soft dirt giving way beneath my boots. Insects chirped from the tall grasses off the roadside while a faint whiff of salty sea air drifted between the few houses framing this end of the city.

It all painted a portrait of serenity.

A moment like this could easily distract from the glaring horrors currently wreaking havoc upon my people. One day, I hoped to restore enough justice that all my citizens could look upon a day like this and take in its beauty without worry or fear.

A parcel of land on the outskirts of South Harbor; that’s where I was headed this morning. The walls of the castle held nefarious intentions these days, and I found it more and more difficult to relax and unwind. Training had provided that for me in the past, and after yet another restless night in my bed, I had to do something about it.

My pace held no hint of urgency, maybe because I wasn’t entirely sure what I’d say once I arrived. Or maybe the stain of shame that I couldn’t seem to wash away seemed more noticeable under the exposing sun.

I found my thoughts wandering to a certain beautiful woman who navigated these streets with the prowess of a panther and wondered what she got herself up to on a gorgeous day like this. I assumed she might still be sore from her journey home and hoped that played a factor in the reason she denied my request to meet. Maybe I’d been selfish asking her for her time after such a taxing journey.

A more realistic part of me knew that even if she’d broken both of her legs, but had the desire to meet with me, she would have made it happen.

I’d decided to give her space, not that she gave me much of a choice over the matter. I had to believe this would just be a small hitch, that she could eventually remember who we’d been to each other under the cover of darkness and not let my position corrupt that.

I reached the small, humble home surrounded on the farthest side by forest. Faint smoke wafted from the chimney, and the fragrance of spices dusted the fresh air, but it was the smoke appearing above the treetops that grabbed my attention.

I walked between the sparse trees beginning to sprout new greenery. Ahead in the clearing, I saw my old friend and trainer, focused and honed in on whatever metal work he was forging on his supposed off-day.

Seeing him instantly brought a smile to my face. Once I got close enough where I wouldn’t need to shout, I said, “Looks like I should have kept better tabs on you. It seems Efemena’s cooking has replaced our endless sparring sessions.”

Odion whipped around, stunned surprise lining his face before a robust laugh burst from his sturdy chest. He dropped the hammer in his hand and approached me with open arms. “Nicholassss,” he growled with a smile before clasping me in a hug that made me regret questioning his physique. The clapping blows to my back rattled my lungs. “What brings you here?!”

An appropriate question. We pulled from our embrace, the man’s dark skin glistening with the sheen of hard labor already. “Do I need a reason to visit an old friend?”

His hands slammed down on my shoulders. “Of course not. It’s good to see you. I appreciate your orders throughout the years, by the way.” He grinned, pointing at me with a facade stripping finger as he went to grab a towel to dab himself.

I stalled for a moment. “What do you mean?” I feigned curiosity, knowing my cover had been blown.

“Well, I had my suspicions when my very first customer ordered enough equipment to sustain me for an entire month. Then knew without a doubt when I started seeing my handiwork around various shops. When I’d ask the owners why they’d purchased that specific material, they said an anonymous donation had been made, to spread the news of an up-and-coming blacksmith on the strip.” He tried smothering his smile, but it broke through. “I’m surprised it took you this long for a visit.”

Without admitting anything, I continued, “I hope I’m not intruding. I was told you close shop this day every week, and didn’t expect to find you busy working.”

“It’s not work when you love it.” He toweled his hands, beaming with a pride and happiness I’d dreamed he had these days.

“How’s Efemena and the kids?”

He paused, staring over my shoulder toward his home. “They’re incredible. Every day is a gift.”

Something about the way he spoke spurred a longing in my chest, a reminder of why I’d come. “I’m glad to hear it. I actually came because I am in need of a sparring partner.” Clasping my hands behind my back, I began strolling the perimeter of the open field, perusing the collection of weapons and parts.

“Now why would you want to get yourself hurt like that?” he teased, and I found myself laughing. A pure, genuine laugh that brightened the darkest parts of my soul—the feeling only an old friend could give.

“Maybe all this fresh countryside air has diluted that memory of yours,” I tossed back.

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