Page 18 of Nightingale

Perhaps he knew that.

“I’m sure you tried your hardest.” Vrea brushed past him, her small heels tapping along in hasty steps. The ribbons fluttered with her, frolicking in the air like spring butterflies searching for flowers.

She was more than ready to get this last night over and done with, returning to her solitary confinement without the bothersome costumes and unnecessary attention. Back to the quiet of her own mind, the inner workings that kept her sane accompanied by the droll drone of city life below Hawksmoor Keep. At least until she could work out all the kinks and escape.

Castil wasn’t ruffled by her clipped tone, catching up easily enough without so much as breaking a sweat. “Are you?”

She ignored it and asked a question of her own. “Where were you last night?” It was strange of him to vanish into thin air like that, when all he lived for was taunting her relentlessly, haunting her nightmares.

“You sound like you almost missed me.” His voice was flat, uncaring.

“I didn’t.”

Castil let out a low noise from the depths of his tall throat.

Annoyance darted into her at the sound of it. “If you had been there then that mess with Rian in the hall would never have happened.” She would neverthankhim for saving her from making a gigantic mistake but there it was, a hint of gratitude for barging in.

“Calling me your saviour, Princess?” He remarked as they continued down the hall, his lip curling up.

“Never, White Knight. You’re the very reason I was caught at all.” She flung his title at him and his features cooled, all sense of mirth vanished. Good. She enjoyed wiping the smirk from his face. Her next thought, however, wipedherprideful grin fromherface. “Am I to be placed on Rian’s side tonight or your own since you’re fond of switching up the nightly companions.”

The very last thing she wanted was to see the redheaded heir, to be perched like a lark in a gilded cage.

Castil swept down the stairs, no long coat to be seen. Only the crimson tunic that allowed a small portion of his svelte chest to show, hairless by the glimpse she stole. His boots were black, but there was no surprise there and the belt blended into the scarlet pants. Blood united him, in a morbid, pale way.

Perhaps he wanted to hide the fading scars on his arm.

Her mind kept dragging back to them.

Castil opened a door and walked through first, allowing her to follow before shutting it promptly. Again, no sound followed and it struck her as odd. Though, now that Vrea thought about it, he was often quiet in his approaches as well as manners.

“Can you stomach sitting by my side tonight, or will you lose your appetite?” He sourly susurrated as they rounded the corner. Her heels pinched her toes, the backs snapping at her tendons and she wanted to toss them out the nearest window. “If you have to hurl the contents of your stomach up, point in Rian’sdirection at least.”

“I’d rather throw up onyou.”

“I’m sure.” He muttered.

After the display from his brother last night and the words slung as if she weren’t even there, even Castil was better than Rian at the moment. It was a clenching feeling in her gut that she despised, but one she didn’t ignore, as she said, “I can manage without dousing you in vomit for tonight.”

“How kind.” He curtly pushed out and they appeared in the main hall where the party had already begun. “I assure you that I won’t take it for granted.”

Vrea surveyed the hall and counted each guard as they stood straight-backed at attention in each curved alcove that lined the entire chamber. More than the previous night, which meant that the King had at least done something after his son’s actions. She might have searched for another pen to record the additions, had she not instantly felt Castil’s undivided attention on her lean shoulders. They were bare, the dress sweeping over her chest and falling down her biceps.

“Don’t even think about it.” He warned in a soft voice usually reserved for lovers in the night, mid-tangle. One that shocked her straight to her core, since she’d never heard that sort of resonance from him previously.

“Think about what?” She feigned ignorance.

His gaze slid over to her, “We’re not playing this foolish game again.”

“What game?” Vrea’s lashes tickled her cheeks. “The one where I pretend to hate you?” She gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with her hand. Then the act was instantly dropped. “Oh wait, that’s real.”

Castil’s mouth moved upwards, and she swore she caught a barely-there twinkle in his eyes. Then it was gone, making her believe that she must have imagined it. He was good at that; atgaslighting her with his own emotions.

She realised a second later that he’d never answered her interrogation about his whereabouts last night.

“Indeed.” He said, and then explained what he’d meant. “My father promised to be more…alerttonight. He’ll be looking for things out of place, and you searching for the guards schedule will most definitely attract his focus.”

“I wasn’t.” Vrea halted her scan, returning her gaze to the long table which had once again been decked out in so much food, that she knew most of it would go to waste.

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