Page 62 of A Deception of Courts

I kept going, losing myself from the room I’d left Duncan in. I paid no mind to how I would make my way back to him. Somehow, I knew I would find him in this place or another. My main desire right now was fresh air, a place outside of the suffocating depression that hung in the air around me.

Reaching the top landing of yet another staircase guarded by towering walls covered with crooked, empty, gilded frames, I was greeted with a rush of wind that pushed the hair from my forehead. It was just what I needed.

Ahead of me was an arched doorway that led out to the exterior of the castle. Two doors clung to the wall for dear life. It was a wonder the hinges hadn’t given way as they looked moments from falling to the floor completely.

Outside was some sort of grand balcony overlooking the Icethorn Court. I walked toward it, noticing the outline of a person sitting perched over the low stone wall that circled the balcony. Twin dove-grey wings fluttered in the winds, a golden hammer leant up against the wall.

So, Rafaela couldn’t sleep either.

I walked cautiously behind her. I didn’t wish to surprise her for fear she might fall over the stone wall she sat on, so I cleared my throat and announced my presence.

“Do Nephilim need to sleep?” I asked.

“We do,” Rafaela said, all without looking back at me. “And what about fey kings, do you require rest or are you above that?”

“Good question,” I replied. “Can I join you so I can unpack the answer?”

“This is your home; it would be rude of me to decline.” Rafaela glanced over her shoulder briefly before returning her gaze to the stretching view. Before I could remind her that Imeria no longer belonged to me, she spoke again. “Your realm is beautiful, Robin. I keep looking, thinking I’m going to find the end on either side, but it seems to never stop.”

“Your homelands must be beautiful, too,” I said, really wanting to divert the topic from me and Imeria, or my responsibilities. “Do you miss it?”

“The Isles of Irobel are impressive, likely more so if you ever saw them. Collections of islands, small and large, scattered across the ocean. But the view is nothing like this. If you climb the tallest tower erected in my lands, you can see only sea glittering in the distance on all sides. Irobel has a beginning and an end. But Wychwood feels other. It is… grand. I suppose because I have never felt so small before.”

“The world is a big place,” I replied, unable to ignore how vulnerable she was being with me. It tugged at my heart, making the lump in my throat grow. “Your presence has proved that.”

“Knowing just how big it is simply adds to the pressure of keeping the realms, and everyone in it, safe from imposing danger.”

“A feeling we both share.”

Rafaela’s wing shifted slightly, giving me room to stand at her side. I was aware as she fanned her wing back out behind me, concealing the view of the castle. It was like having a great shield at my back. Which, in some sense, was exactly what Rafaela was. I only wished someone had been able to shield Gabrial from what happened to her.

“We will find out who was responsible for Gabrial’s murder,” I said, finding the need to promise again. “I swear it.”

A sad smile crested over Rafaela’s face. “You didn’t get the chance to know her well, but Gabrial was the most excited of us to finally leave our home and explore what was to offer beyond it. And yet she was hardly given the chance to experience any of it. A world she treasured unconditionally. A place she didn’t know, a place she had only dreamt of, and yet she would have given her life to protecting it.”

My throat scratched as though full of sand. I gripped the stone wall as if the wave of Rafaela’s grief had the power to take my legs out from beneath me.

“I wish there was something I could say to ease your pain.”

Rafaela lifted her chin and kept her stare fixated on the furthest points she could see. Her voice didn’t tremble when she spoke, nor did her eyes fill with tears. There was strength in her sadness, a peace that I marvelled at.

“Gabrial is with the Creator now. Knowing that gives me a sense of peace.” The hint of a growl worked into her voice. “However, when my hammer crushes the skull of the being that killed her, that will also help alleviate some of this pain I find lingering inside of me.”

I expelled an awkward laugh, unable to shield myself from the brutal honesty of her threat. “If anyone can find the being behind the attack, it will be Seraphine. Although there is something I feel as though I should share.”

“What would that be, Robin?”

“I don’t wish to tell you what will or will not help your grief, but I have searched for revenge and the bliss I believed it would gift me. But that wasn’t what I found when I went looking. The promising allure of revenge is a lie. It does nothing to help the pain.”

As I spoke, I remembered James Campbell. I thought of his shattered remains smashed across the ale-slick floor of the pub. Then of Doran, whose body slipped beneath the water as Elinor killed him. I hadn’t recognised any peace on her face afterwards.

“What I’m trying to say is death is not always the answer,” I added.

“You are right, Robin; it is not always the answer, but sometimes it is. That is my purpose as the Creator’s hammer. He made me a warrior of his image and gave me the responsibility to punish those who require it. Just as you didn’t ask for the power that Altar gave upon your bloodline, I did not ask for this. But I at least accepted it without question. I claimed it. Aldrick will not be the only one to fall beneath my truth.”

“When does it end?” I asked. “What waits for you when the world has been cleansed of its threats, and you face freedom?”

Rafaela shrugged, lips twitching as she regarded my question. “That all depends on the Creator’s will.”

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