Page 28 of Deadwood
I couldn’t even begin to imagine what else I was blind to when I’d already found out so much in the small amount of time we were in Silicate.
There had to be a way to convince my father to let me have a sliver of freedom outside of the castle after my return from our journey through Serpentine.
I just had to figure out what that was.
CHAPTER 10
Iawoke before dawn the next day by the demands of my father. He’d sent a guard to escort me to the throne room because apparently, I had some making up to do on my chores since I was gone yesterday.
As if he wasn’t the one who sent me to Silicate.
“Every crate,” he drawled from where he was seated on his throne, inspecting his nails as if a speck of dirt could be found on his perfectly clean hands.
I was already exhausted just a few hours in. Not only was I woken up long before the sun had risen, but I’d had a hard time falling asleep to begin with, images of that man being shot flashing through my mind every time I managed to close my eyes.
I didn’t believe thievery was a big enough reason for someone to be killed, but what did I know?
“I need a minute, Father,” I said from where I was sitting on the floor beside one of the many crates spread about the room.
“The longer you take, the longer you prevent me from getting to my job.”
It wasn’tmyidea to do this in the throne room. Since I hadn’t fulfilled my typical load of vials yesterday, I was now tasked with filling every empty crate in this room. If I had to guess, there were a little over two dozen neatly set out in rows. I’d filled at least seven so far, which was already more than I typically did, but I still had a long way to go.
Sometimes, I really loathed that he’d closed the mines in return for me providing Amosite’s magic supply, but one look at Silicate yesterday told me the work I’d been doing wasn’t enough. But if he was so hellbent on me getting through this load with no breaks, I could at least distract him to take a moment to rest.
“Why don’t you let me leave the castle?” I asked, leaning an elbow on the crate next to me for support. Even my spine was tired of holding my body upright.
“I do. I allow you to see that girl.” He spoke as if that was a luxury.
I scoffed, which earned me a glare and the thinning of his lips.
“Aside from my short visits in the garden with Taylin,” I clarified.
He waved me off. “It is too dangerous. Look what happened yesterday. That could easily happen again.” His eyes narrowed. “People are unpredictable, Auria, but you wouldn’t know that. How could you?” His tone was accusing, as ifIwas the reason I was so left in the dark. “Now stand up and get back to work. I have no time for an unnecessary chat.”
I bit back what I really wanted to say and reluctantly pushed myself up to stand. I wanted so badly to defend myself, to tell him I would’ve been more prepared if it wasn’t for him, but I didn’t. Instead, I shook out the heavy feeling that had settled into my arms. It felt like I’d been lifting fifty-pound weights with only the tips of my fingers for hours.
“What if I had guards with me?” I continued, bending to grab the vial of fire magic from the crate, along with an empty vial off the table beside me.
I could practically hear my father’s teeth grinding to dust. “And what if I were to lose you? Who would fill all these vials to provide for the people?”
The silence that followed his question echoed louder than the words he spoke. Was that all I was to him?
I had no answer, so I focused on my power, letting it course through me as it duplicated what flowed from one vial to the next. Fire magic sometimes left a tingle in my arms, my skin and bones feeling slightly hot with the substance as it traveled.
My eyelids drooped as I filled vial after vial, the glass glowing a vibrant amber hue. I’d just gotten done filling half the current crate when the door to the throne room opened. My father instantly jumped from his chair, hazel eyes blazing bright with rage.
“No one is allowed in,” my father’s voice boomed. “Guards!”
Quiet panic filled me as I quickly bent to set the two vials in the crate, but as I straightened, my head spun from the sudden movement.
“They must not have received the memo,” a male’s voice stated, sounding bored. “They’re snoring just outside the doors.”
I set a palm to my head as it pounded, my hand on the table beside me to keep me from swaying.
“No need to wake them,” the man said. He sounded familiar, but I couldn’t pinpoint who it was in my current state. “I only came to say my goodbyes.”
Pinching my eyes shut, I waited until the dizziness subsided before letting go of the table. I turned to see my father’s nostrils flared, a clear sign of his anger, as he stared the man down from up on the dais. Then my gaze moved to find Bowen standing in the doorway, looking directly at me.
