Page 45 of The Shadowbound King

Andrin met my gaze. “He chose well.” Andrin stepped around me and started toward the door. As I moved to follow, he stopped and turned his head. “But Mirella?”

“Yes?” I said, lifting my chin.

“Don’t ever forget you wear my collar too.”

Minutes later,I trailed Andrin through the Embervale’s endless corridors. Distant laughter and music drifted toward us, indicating the feast was already underway.

Andrin didn’t seem eager to reach it. He maintained a sedate pace, his boots ringing out on the stone. Anger simmered in my veins as I kept pace with him. If he was angry about my gown, he had no right to be. It wasn’t like I had the luxury of choosing my own clothes—or what I ate or how I spent even a second of my time.

But I’d spent time helping him with his ledgers. And he’d thanked me by pointing out the metal around my neck. As if I could ever forget.

He also gave you the freedom to move around the chamber,a little voice reminded me.

I huffed.

Andrin stopped. Frowning, he turned slightly. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” I said, kicking myself for drawing his attention. “Probably just noise from the feast.”

He shook his head, his frown deepening. But he didn’t look at me, and he didn’t seem offended. “There,” he said, jerking his head forward. “Do you hear it?” Without waiting for a response, he started walking again, this time with a sense of purpose in his steps.

Confusion swamped me as I hurried to keep up. Fading sunlight streamed through the windows. Candles danced in the chandeliers overhead. After a few more twists and turns, we rounded a corner and entered a short corridor leading to a singlewooden door. Like others in the castle, it was richly painted, its panel covered in a lush apple orchard.

A child’s wail sounded from somewhere behind it.

I stopped, my confusion growing. Andrin went to the door and pushed it open.

“Oh! Your Majesty!” a woman’s voice called out. Elodie appeared in the doorway, a little boy no older than two years old in her arms.

My breath caught, and I drifted forward, my gaze riveted to the child. He turned his head and rested his cheek on Elodie’s shoulder. One small, pointed ear peeked from his chocolate-brown curls.

Pink tinged Elodie’s cheeks as she offered Andrin an awkward curtsy. “I apologize for the noise, sire.” She cupped the child’s head, hugging him against her. “A few of the little ones have been restless today.”

“Don’t apologize,” Andrin said. As I drew closer, he stroked the child’s rounded cheek. The little boy lifted his head, then held out his arms. Without hesitation, Andrin scooped the child from Elodie and settled the boy on his hip with a familiarity that indicated he’d done so many times before.

“What’s wrong, Finian?” Andrin asked softly.

“Play,” the little boy said.

Andrin nodded. “You can play.” He looked at Elodie. “Yes?”

She smiled. “Of course.” She stepped back, opening the door wider in obvious invitation.

Andrin started to enter, then paused when Finian stared at me. The boy’s brown eyes widened, and then he thrust a chubby finger toward me.

“Ees.”

“Oh, no no, Finian,” Elodie said. “It’s not nice to point.”

“Ees!”

“I think he noticed my ears,” I said. On impulse, I moved to Andrin’s side. “My ears are different,” I told the little boy. “See?” I pushed my hair back and angled my head to give him a clearer view.

Finian rewarded me with a gummy grin. He touched his ear, then waved a dimpled hand. “Ees!”

“That’s right.” I couldn’t help but return his smile. “We both have ears. Just a slightly different design.”

Finian wriggled in Andrin’s arms. “What…?” Andrin gasped, a puzzled look falling over his face. When Finian began to struggle in earnest, he set the little boy on his feet.

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