Page 27 of The Shadowbound King

I paused in the act of reaching for another grape. “You can’t leave? Like…ever?”

“No.” He nibbled his lower lip, looking uncomfortable.

“Rane left,” I pointed out. “He came to the Covenant and dragged me through the forest.”

Ginhad shifted in his chair, his seeming discomfort growing. “Lord Rane is an exceptional case.”

“Can anyone else leave? Or just Rane?” I refused to call himlord.

Ginhad’s expression grew shuttered. “I’m probably not supposed to talk about this sort of stuff with you.” He darted a look at the doors, then dropped his voice to just above a whisper. “You know, since your father set Autumn’s current predicament in motion.”

Frustration rose. “Your king seems to think so. But I promise I have no idea what he’s talking about.” I leaned forward. “What did he mean about a Kree?”

Ginhad winced. “Can we talk about literally anything else? Like my pitiful love life or my inability to digest sunflower seeds?”

My frustration threatened to choke me. But I’d get nowhere if I angered Ginhad. “Fine.” I nodded toward his neck. “Why don’t you have any tattoos?”

He appeared to consider his response. Then he nodded. “It’s an adjacent subject, but it’s probably safe enough.” He plucked another pie from a platter and put it on my plate. “In the Autumn Court, we don’t come into our full powers until we bond with ourwere.”

“Were?”

“Uh-huh. You probably saw a few in the courtyard. Horses and birds. Wolves and foxes. We’ve got a little bit of everything.” He gestured to his neck. “When we bond with an animal, it becomes one of our sigils, and then we can take a shadow version of our were. Really powerful elves can take solid form. Some of the show-offs around here like to flaunt their weres every chance they get. Which, all right, embrace your inner animal, but there’s only so much manure I can tolerate before I becomevillainous.”

I took another bite of pie. “So you don’t shift into an animal?”

“Nope. I’m only thirty, which is like a screaming infant in Ishulum. By the time I came along, the shadows had already taken over the Edelfen.” He sipped water from a goblet. “Finding your were is something of a mystical experience. There’s a wildhunt during the harvest. It’s a whole thing.” He shrugged. “These days, animals are scarce in the Edelfen. I never got a chance to find mine.”

Sympathy twinged in my chest. “I’m sorry, Ginhad.”

He set his goblet down. “I try not to dwell on it. And I have plenty of duties in the castle to keep me busy. Like making sure you know how to pour wine at dinner.”

“I think I can manage.”

He gave me a look as he pushed his chair back from the table. “You might change your mind when you attend your first feast. Come on. I’ll show you the Embervale.”

Ginhad keptup a steady stream of chatter as he led me through the castle’s meandering corridors.

“…and that’s the library. No one ever goes there. We’re not much for reading around here. Probably because there’s nothing new to read.”

Questions huddled in my mind. If Ginhad was thirty, and the Edelfen had been overrun by shadows since before he was born, when did it get that way? And what did my father have to do with it?

But I couldn’t get the answers I sought. At least not right now. Maybe if I continued to befriend Ginhad, I could persuade him to give me more information. If I had any hope of escaping the Autumn Court, I needed to understand my father’s alleged crime.

In the meantime, my curiosity extended in another direction.

“Where is everyone?” I asked. Even at Purecliff, where the staff was small, servants were always bustling about. But Ginhadand I hadn’t encountered a single soul since we left Andrin’s chamber.

Ginhad waved a hand. “Oh, here and there. Most people are probably still sleeping off last night.” He slid me a look. “Your arrival is big news. Everyone is excited about the possibility of…” He clamped his lips together.

“What?” I asked.

He drew a finger across his neck.“Throw rug,”he mouthed.

I bit my tongue against the urge to press for more. Ginhad was the closest thing I had to an ally in Ishulum. If I pushed him too far, I could find myself back in the cage—and at Andrin’s mercy, assuming he ever showed up again.

My throat went dry, and I put the king—and his bodyguard—out of my mind.

We turned a corner, and the corridor opened onto a long gallery lined with painted wooden doors. As we passed, the paintings made me do a double take.

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