Page 55 of The Shadowbound King

Every day, the Embervale lost ground, its light swallowed by the shade. Vivia and the others did their best to beat it back, but they fought a losing battle. And every time Rane returned from the trees, he was quieter than the time before.

The strain showed on him last night. He hid it well, but he could never really hide from me. I’d seen it in the tight set of hisjaw and the way he avoided looking into my eyes when he didn’t want to discuss what he’d seen in the shadows.

Or, rather, what the shadows had said to him. The Edelfen was always particularly cunning with those touched by darkness, not out of fear, but as if the shadows yearned to reclaim their own.

Whatever the darkness had told him, it had taken a toll. He’d been restless all night, tossing and muttering in his sleep before falling into real slumber just as the sky outside the bedchamber’s windows lightened to purple. I’d left him sound asleep, and I’d kept my eyes off Mirella’s cage as I passed through the main chamber.

But she was hard to miss. Damn her, she was hard to ignore, and I’d turned back before I reached the doors. So I knew exactly what she looked like when she slept, her sleek body curled against the pillows and her shining hair spread over the silk.

Light from the windows had illuminated her from behind, giving me a clear view of her gently rounded hips and the tantalizing shadow between her legs. Was she smooth like my people, or did she have a patch of fire on her plump mound? She’d caught her lower lip between her teeth when she fixed my ledgers, her head bent and sunshine highlighting the spray of tiny golden freckles across the bridge of her nose. Most likely, those charming imperfections scattered other places.

She’d stirred under my regard, a little frown forming between her brows. Her full lips had pursed as though she sensed something sour. My perusal, maybe. But I’d kept going, running my eyes down her creamy throat to the swells of her full breasts.

Rane’s mocking voice flowed through my memory.“Have you forgotten Walto’s skill with deception? Or have you been swayed by a pair of nice tits and big golden eyes?”

Rane couldn’t hide from me, but I couldn’t hide from him, either. Mirella was sweet—or at least she appeared to be. And she was untouched. I’d swear a great deal on it. Was it her innocence that drew me? Or was it the trace of Autumn in her veins? The former was unheard of in the Embervale. We’d weathered our shrinking world for two hundred years, and most of the court drowned their boredom in sex and alcohol.

Mirella was different, her quiet dignity tempered by a sharp wit and an equally sharp mind. The latter wasn’t easily faked. She’d certainly told the truth about being skilled in ciphering. What if she’d told the truth about everything?

The answer came as readily as it had with Rane.

Then I use her.I’d fashion her into a weapon. And when she was sharp and quick enough, I’d thrust her directly into Walto Lornlark’s heart.

Red tumbled across my vision, pulling me from my thoughts. Lifting my hand, I waited for a small leaf to make its descent. It spun in the air, swooping lower before grazing my palm and winking out of sight.

Mirella’s face formed in my mind, her eyes bright with wonder as she watched the leaves drift past the window.

I lowered my hand. I’d seen the leaves my whole life. When had they lost their wonder?

Another leaf drifted toward me, briefly kissing my sleeve and then disappearing. Closing my eyes, I dug my senses into the meadow. Rich, dark soil crumbled apart in my mind. I pushed deeper, twisting around as I searched the land. It was foolish to look. I’d been exhausted when I saw the spark. The pinpoint of light wasn’t real.

Even as doubts gathered, I cast my senses wider, searching for the tiny beacon.

There.

As soon as I spotted it, the light vanished. Frustration rose, and I moved forward, my senses peeled for the light’s reappearance. A screech echoed through my head. Seconds later, shadows rolled toward me.

A scuffling sound popped my eyes open. Catching my breath, I whirled from the tower’s railing as a gray wolf reached the top of the tower’s steps. It padded toward me, its silvery coat gilded with sunlight. Halfway to my side, it swirled into shadow. Another step, and Othor stopped at my shoulder.

“You’re up early,” I said. “Although, I’m not sure you ever sleep.” In six centuries, I’d never seen him look anything less than immaculate. Regardless of the hour, his hair was always smooth, his long robes clean and pressed. Even when he trained with the knights, he came away from the practice yard unrumpled.

“I sleep,” he said. His lips compressed in a thin line as he stared at the Edelfen. “Not as well as I used to.”

I knew my smile was grim. “An affliction I share.”

Othor scanned the forest with a worried air. “The shadows grow longer. And thicker.”

“I know,” I said, hearing the edge in my voice. Did he think he was the only one who noticed the Edelfen’s encroachment? Every night, the feasts in the Great Hall grew more untamed. My people could see the trees as plainly as Othor. No one spoke of why the parties grew louder and lasted longer. They didn’t need to.

Finally, Othor looked at me. “You interrogated Mirella several days ago. Did it yield any useful information?”

If I said no, he would insist on interrogating her himself. And Rane was right about Othor’s methods, which were anything but gentle. If Othor questioned Mirella, the fallout could shatter any hope of her willingly cooperating with me.

“She’s wary,” I said, “but I believe the past week has made her realize her options are limited.”

Othor’s expression turned thoughtful. “Perhaps, a different approach might be worthwhile. She seemed to enjoy spending time with the children.” He turned his gaze to the Edelfen. “If she understands what’s at stake, she might be more willing to help, even if it means challenging her father.”

Relief loosened my shoulders. “I’ve had similar thoughts.”

---