Page 3 of The Sorrow of Shadows

“Hey now, I never agreed to be the little spoon in this relationship,” he says as he turns to look at me again. His chocolate-brown eyes roam over me, and I can tell he’s trying to read my face for any signs of what I might be feeling. The mood suddenly shifts from playful to something more serious.

“I’m okay,” I whisper, giving him a soft smile.

“No, you’re not,” he replies, calling my bluff. I’m not surprised by this; Elijah knows me better than anyone, probably even my mother. “But I wouldn’t expect you to be. Whatever emotions you have are valid. Feel however it is you’re meant to, let it out. I just hope you never feel alone because I amalwaysby your side.”

“Are you sure you’re not an empath?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Elijah snorts and gently grabs my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Nope, I just know you like the back of my hand,” he says confidently. “You’ll refuse to talk about it or actually feel any emotions until it all builds up and boils over, and you melt down in epic proportions.” He releases my chin to tap me on the nose.

Did this male just boop me like I’m a cute kitten?

I bring my hand to my chest in fake outrage before gasping. “That doesn’t sound at all like me! You must be thinking of your other best friend.”

He rolls his eyes this time but knows I’m done with this conversation for now. He clears his throat, working up to whatever he will say next. “Your mother’s betrothal to Lord Aurelius.”

My face falls because this is the last thing I want to discuss. “Do we have to talk about stepdaddy dearest?” I groan.

“I dare you to call him that to his face,” Elijah chuckles. “But unfortunately, yes. We do need to talk about it.”

“I just don’t understand how she could so quickly turn around and announce a betrothal tohim.Of all people, his own brother? I know my parents loved each other; that was obvious. Not even two weeks after my father dies, she’s engaged? It seems disrespectful...” I trail off as my voice quivers. I’m clenching my hands so tightly I can feel my nails digging into the flesh of my palms.

A moment passes before Elijah speaks again. “Do you need friend Elijah right now, or do you need your advisor, Brey?”

I sigh, knowing as comforting asfriendElijah might be, protecting my feelings will get me nowhere. “Advisor Elijah, please,” I mumble.

“Your mother loved your father; this doesn’t change any of that. You know the law says she must remarry to stay on the throne. I think she only moved as fast as she did so she could maintain control over who she had to marry without the council shoving their noses into the matter. I can’t begin to guess why she asked Lord Aurelius or what his motivations are—you’ll have to ask them that. I don’t think she intended to hurt you or diminish your father’s memory. It was simply something that had to be done, and she took control of the situation. I figured you, of all people, General, would understand that.”

I don’t miss his use of my title to appeal to the part of me defined by logic. I sigh, defeated. “I see your point.”

Elijah isn’t done, though. “If I were you, I’d be more concerned with why Lord Seamus has such an interest in who your mother marries. That’s what I can’t seem to work out.” His hands run through his long, golden locks. His hair typically remained tied up in a knot, but it was free and messy right now. Icould tell he was frustrated at not having all the answers for me and was holding something back.

I lay a hand on his cheek and press my forehead to his. “You may be my eyes and ears, but I don’t expect you to have all the answers. That bit about Lord Seamus is odd, but he’s always been a nosey bastard. He often reaches too far, so we shall see how that plays out. What about this supposed ghost, though? I must admit I’m skeptical, so enlighten me. Seeing ghosts isn’t normal—are we sure that’s what it is?”

“You saw it that first time through my eyes, but he’s appeared several more times since then. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I wouldn’t believe me either. But I assure you, Brey, it is real. He still hasn’t said anything. I don’t believe he will take long to appear for you. He’s almost always outside your chambers. I think he’s been waiting for you.” I can tell by his confident tone that he believes it. Whether or not it is the ghost of my father—or something more sinister—remains to be seen.

A few hours later, after Elijah and I had finished catching up and fallen asleep in the process, I step out of my chambers in search of food. It’s well past supper, so I venture down to the kitchens to see what I can find. The room is pitch black when I enter, the staff having retired for the evening. I quickly cast several Faerie lights and send them to the corners of the dark space. I let out a soft gasp as I realize Lord Seamus’s son, Lord Layne, leans against the counter, a bowl in his hand, with what looks to be a scoop of beef stew lifted halfway to his mouth.

“I’m sorry, I assumed I was alone in here, there being no lights on. Are you eating cold soup in the dark?”

Layne drops the spoon back into his bowl and looks at memomentarily before answering. “I was in a meeting with my father that ran late, so I missed supper. I would have just waited if I weren’t leaving in the morning, but I was starving. And it’s not that cold, more like lukewarm.”

“I suppose it all goes to the same place anyway, doesn’t it?” I say as I reach past him to grab a clean bowl. My arm grazes his shoulder, and I feel him tense beside me. I look over to see his eyes wide and mouth open slightly. He doesn’t say anything further, dropping his bowl to the counter and turning away from me before hurrying out of the kitchens, his bowl of soup forgotten.

That was strange.I fill my own bowl with room temperature beef stew and head back to my room.

CHAPTER THREE

OPHELIA

Isit beside my window, my nose buried deep in a novel. I’m hiding. Father mentioned wanting to speak with me at breakfast, and I can’t think of something I’d like to do less than have another one of his chats.

“My Lady, Lord Seamus sent us to fetch you,” my maid says from the doorway. I sigh heavily and close my book. My disassociation shall have to wait.

“Yes, yes, I’m coming now. Best not to upset him further.” I say the last part under my breath. There are very few people in this castle I can trust. Everyone fears Lord Seamus because of the lightning he wields. If only they knew how right they were to fear him.

I follow my maids, Ani and Maeve, out of my quarters and down the hall. I knock twice, then hear a gruff voice. “Enter.” He’s sitting in a wingback chair near the fireplace. It’s the height of the summer season, and he insists on having a fire lit in the middle of the day. Add that to the list of things that make me question his sanity.

“Sit down, daughter,” he says, gesturing to the chair opposite his. I cross the room and sit where he instructed. I can tell he is still deep in thought as his gray eyes—the same gray as mine—flicker back and forth across the flames dancing in the fireplace. I’m grateful our eyes are the only thing we share. Where his hair is brown and shaved closely to his head, mine is so black it almost looks blue and hangs straight past my waist. Where he is muscular, I am petite. Where he is powerful, I...am not. I possess the basic magic that all our people have, but as a highborn, I am expected to display additional Gifts. My father never misses a chance to remind me of my diminished value since I have shown no signs of other magical abilities. To him, I am little more than a burden to eventually be married off to whatever nobleman will take me.

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