Page 109 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

Kheldryn wraps her arms around herself. “Savell makes a good point. We can’t know who to trust.”

Asheros sighs. “Believe me, I’m well aware.” A pause. “But making a move against the Copper Court’s Head of House could be detrimental if we aren’t careful. Though I’m not yet the Head of House, I still need to think of my Court. The last thing I want is to make an enemy of Copper.”

“Regardless, we mustn’t wait to act. We need to move as soon as possible,” I say, the words flooding from my lips. Making a move for the door, I add, “I’ll speak to my mother at once, and—”

“Bladesinger.” Asheros’s hand on my shoulder stops me. “Please, give it a night. That’s all I ask.”

“You say that as if you know we have a night to spare,” I tell him. “I understand your duties to your Court. But I have my own duties, duties to my High King to consider.”

“I know, Bladesinger.” Fatigue sets into his face. “Trust me, I do. And you know that you will always, always have my support. I merely want you to think things through. Will you give me that?”

Something shifts in the corridor, barely audible behind the closed door.

I cock my head, straining to listen.

“Bladesinger?” Asheros presses, his voice soft.

I wait a moment, but whatever I heard is gone.

“All right,” I surrender, turning to face Asheros. “We’ll sleep on it. But just for tonight.”

Something akin to relief lessens the tension at Asheros’s jaw. “Thank you, Lymseia. Truly.”

Clenching my hands into fists, I curl my fingers and then let go. Worry tenses my muscles, knots forming in my upper back. Every instinct I have is urging me to move, to withdraw my swords and slay the demon where he sleeps.

But as much as I’d rather not admit it, Asheros is right. Gods forbid I’m wrong about Tanyl, there could be serious political consequences for him that I hadn’t considered but should have.

“Come,” Asheros says, taking my hand. Weariness slows his movements. I hadn’t realized how worn down he is. “Let’s have a hot meal and get some rest. When morning comes, we’ll need it.”

Chapter Thirty-One

For hours, I toss and turn in a fitful sleep.

Seeing as it’s the first night I’ve slept in a proper bed in weeks, one would have thought sleep would claim me without resistance. But alas, that is not the case tonight.

Letting out a forceful exhale, I shift myself upright and attempt to rub the weariness from my eyes. I allow my gaze to wander, my focus landing on Asheros.

He hasn’t moved once since he first closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling evenly with each breath. He lies on his back, one hand outstretched toward me. Normally, he’s at least semi-conscious each time I move throughout the night—somehow, an even lighter sleeper than me—but at the moment, I doubt much would disturb him.

Though he’s unconscious, lingering stress works at his mouth, his eyes moving rapidly beneath his eyelids. Pressing my lips together, I brush tendrils of white-blond hair back off his face. His body relaxes, seemingly comforted by my touch, even in sleep.

A dull ache sets into my chest.

He’s been just as worried as I am. Just as anxious. Though we may express it differently, we’ve both struggled to contain our raging emotions. Not to mention the bond. Now it’s not just our own feelings individually that bear down on us, but the feelings of the other person, too. His fear, worry, and unease only add to mine and vice versa.

With the bond in place, our highs reach new, wonderful heights.

But so do our lows.

Tilting my head down, I sigh and touch the heel of my palm to my forehead. If I haven’t fallen asleep yet, I doubt staying here will do me any good. There’s only one thing I know that will help me ease the tension.

Carefully, I peel the blankets back and swing my legs from the mattress. Placing my feet on the floor, I tiptoe to the corner of the room and tug on my boots. Picking up my short swords safely tucked into their sheaths, I secure them to my hips and slip from the room.

Navigating through the dark halls, I let muscle memory lead me down a path I’ve walked many times. It’s only once I emerge from the manor, into the fresh, nighttime air, that I lean my head back to the stars and take a breath, filling my lungs.

I’ve always loved the mountain air here. The crispness of it. The way it feels on my tongue. The feeling of nourishment it leaves within me after every inhale. It’s one of the few things I’d missed about home when I first relocated to Keuron.

Moving across the manor grounds, I scan the area for my target, thanking the gods when I see that Mother hasn’t done away with it. Approaching my wooden training dummy—if one can call a roughly fae-sized cross of wooden planks to be a training dummy, I withdraw my blades from their sheaths.

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