Page 98 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

We leave the doors wide open. If no one’s coming, there’s no point in closing them. I’d actually welcome an intruder because it would mean someone remembered us. I don’t understand how we could be so easily forgotten.

Everyone knows about the tower. Everyone. Hasn’t it been drilled into my head since I was born? What about the clergy at the Alabaster Citadel? They devote their lives to the gods, and surely they’d make sure that those of us that gave our lives to the tower would be fed.

At least, you’d think that. Turns out, not so much.

Worse than the knowledge that we’ve been forgotten? What this has done to Nemeth. My strong, scholarly Fellian has not been himself. His eyes are ringed with fatigue, and his very stance is one of defeat. It hurts me to see him like this.

So we need a new plan.

I wake up one morning with determination in my belly. We’re going to get through this. I’m not going to give up. I roll over in bed to wake up Nemeth, only to see that he’s already awake, staring up at the ceiling with a listless, apathetic expression. “We’re not going to give up,” I tell him. “It’s out of the question.”

Nemeth sighs. “I haven’t given up, Candra. I just don’t know what to do. If I could leave…”

“Yes, well, you can’t. That’s the entire crux of this situation—neither of us can leave.” I keep my voice cheerful and light, my expression full of renewed energy instead of despair. If he’s going to be sad, I’ll be the happy, positive one until his mood changes. We’re a team. Since he’s feeling low, I’m going to pick him up. “Let’s think of ideas. Here’s the first idea. We learn how to eat books.”

He snorts.

“It’s the only thing we have a lot of,” I tease. “Books and my dresses. And I can tell you quite honestly that my dresses taste awful.”

He shoots me a sidelong glance. “This is a serious situation, Candra.”

“Oh, I know it is.” I sit on my knees, clasping my hands in my lap. “And since we’ve nothing to do with our time but think, let us think our way out of our current situation, shall we? Let’s start with the obvious. You have magic. Can you send your people a message of some kind through your magic?”

“I’ve tried.”

His admission startles me. I haven’t seen him casting spells or even approaching his books in the last several days. When was this? Is he keeping secrets from me?

Then I feel guilty all over again as I think of my knife. He’s not the only one keeping secrets. “You tried? In what way?”

“I attempted to contact my brother, Ivornath. He’s the king of Darkfell.”

“And he didn’t answer you?”

Nemeth turns his head toward me. “I’m not supposed to speak of Fellian magic to outsiders.”

“I’m not supposed to marry a Fellian,” I reply tartly. “Lucky for you and your knot, I’m a rule-breaker.”

That brings a smile to his face. “You always bring up my knot.”

“It’s my favorite part.”

He sits up halfway, propping himself up on one elbow, his wings folded behind him like a rumpled cloak. “Your favorite, eh?”

“I told you I was a lusty princess when we met.” I reach out and pat his knee. “Now quit distracting me with thoughts of your knot and tell me more about Fellian magic and the message you sent.”

“It’s a spell,” he says slowly, as if the words feel forbidden to even speak. His gaze lingers on mine. “I write out the missive and burn it in a candle upon the Gray God’s altar. One of the god’s sacred spirits takes it and delivers it to my brother, who must receive the message via a trained evoker. Every court in Darkfell has one. Several, actually. But when I send my messages, they go nowhere.”

“Go nowhere?” I ask.

“They are not received. Whatever evoker is there at court with my brother will not receive my messages.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” His mouth crooks into a half-smile. “No one knows of the lusty princess I’ve mated yet, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then there’s no reason for them to ignore you?”

“None. That’s what worries me.” His expression grows more dire by the moment. “Either the evoker is sick—or dead—or my brother is choosing to ignore our plight.Myplight.”

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