Page 10 of Ira

Chapter 3

Usually, the afternoon was the part of my shift that dragged on the longest. The mornings usually went by quickly, with far more happening in the royal wing of the palace at that time of day that required my attention.

But not today. Today, each second that passed felt like an hour as I waited for my midday break. Would Meera be there? I didn’t want to think about how sorry for myself I would feel if she wasn’t.

“You’re restless today, Verner,” the queen’s confidant, Affra, remarked. She paused in the archway, heading out to go and visit her daughters as she usually did. “Is something amiss?”

“Not at all,” I assured her, acutely aware of Andrus’s interested gaze from the other side of the archway.

Affra hummed, not sounding altogether convinced. “Ah, it’s probably nothing, isn’t it? You’re a good lad, you wouldn’t lie to me.” She gave Andrus a pointed look, making it very clear that he wasnota good lad, and he huffed in response. Perhaps if he’d been a little more charming where Affra was concerned, she wouldn’t be so ready to malign him. “It’s just my daughters getting in my head, that’s all.”

“About what?” I asked curiously. Usually, Affra only made passing small talk with me at best.

“Lots of change about the place, I suppose.”

“I’ve been hearing that a lot recently,” I murmured.

She shrugged, a gesture she’d picked up from the queen. “They worry. Lots of unfamiliar faces at the palace. And they’re afraid of Ophelia’s sister.”

I wished I could argue with that, but I wasn’t overly fond of Astrid either. She was the kind of Hunter I despised. The kind who tore families apart.

“Change doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” I said, searching for words that might offer her some comfort while not being dismissive of her concerns.

“It doesn’t,” Affra agreed. “And I am very old, don’t forget. I’ve seen much change in my lifetime. Sometimes motivated by a new generation with a different vision for the future, sometimes motivated by circumstance, and often motivated by anger. There’s a lot of anger now. Angry Shades who can’t travel to the human realm to feed—directing their ire at both the Hunters and the king.

“And that’s a bad thing,” I hedged, though her tone wasn’t entirely conveying that. She sounded thoughtful, if anything.

“Not necessarily.” Affra began moving away, her walk even slower than usual. Possibly because her energy was running low and she was reluctant to use the stores to feed when the entirerealm was relying on them. “Anger is a powerful tool. Deadly. Efficient. Effective. But only if you wield it right.”

On that chilling note, she went on her merry way, humming a cheerful tune under her breath.

Was she right? I’d never given the matter much thought before. Anger was not an emotion that had been encouraged growing up at Sunlis. No emotions had been encouraged there—anything other than a state of perfect calm had been seen as an embarrassing loss of control. I’d never really considered the potential of it as motivation.

“Terrifying old bag,” Andrus muttered loudly.

I shot him a chastising look. “This is why she doesn’t like you.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual.”

At least Affra’s ominous words had given me plenty to consider, which helped the morning pass with a little more haste.

After stopping by my apartment and then the palace kitchen, I made my way down to Elverston House, my optimism tempered heavily by caution. Perhaps last night, in the moment, suggesting a friendship between us had seemed like a good idea, but there was always the chance Meera had woken up and changed her mind. She was certainly more reticent than the others—with the exception of Astrid—to put herself out there.

Bracing myself for disappointment, I followed the shrub-lined curved path until the full building came into sight and nearly dropped what I was carrying.

There she was. Sitting cross-legged on the ground on the Elverston-side of the invisible line, glowing in a loose pale-yellow top.

Friends, I reminded myself.She wanted a friend.

Though, surely, noticing how enchanting she looked in yellow was a friendly thing to do?

Meera waved tentatively as I approached, and some of the tension in my shoulders eased. Undoubtedly, there would be some awkwardness, but shewantedto see me. She wanted me here. That was the most important thing.

“Hello, Meera. How are you?” I asked, lowering myself to the ground opposite her on my side of the line. It wasn’t until I was sitting that I realized how much the overgrown foliage around Elverston House obscured us from view. What had once been manicured garden beds had become almost a jungle after at least a decade of neglect.

Had Meera noticed how private this spot was when she sat down? Surely not, or she wouldn’t have chosen it. She struck me as particularly safety conscious.

“I’m good, thank you. How are you?”

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