Page 18 of A Court of Ash and Midnight
“That’s so terrible,” Lyana says from her spot stirring the contents of one of the pots. Her blonde hair is cropped so short, I can barely see it peeking out from under her bonnet.
I nod, not sure what else to say about it.
“Is it true the Commander is the one who brought you here?” Carmeline asks.
“He’s terribly handsome…” Brasa adds, which earns a round of giggles from the other two, and a sly smile from Yenna.
“He’s not the one who found me. The dark-haired man with the jade eyes found me. Daemon.”
The room goes deathly quiet.
“You must be mistaken,” Yenna says. “He does not leave the castle grounds.”
She says it with such conviction that I second guess myself for the first time. “Is there someone else here that looks like him, perhaps?”
The women all throw glances around at each other. “Aye,” Yenna says. “There are plenty of dark-haired Guardians at the castle. It must have been one of them.”
“But with those same eyes?”
She shrugs. “There’s no shortage of beautiful green eyes among the fae.”
“I could have sworn…”
“I imagine you haven’t been that close to Daemon to see what his eyes really look like,” Yenna adds. “And you’d best keep it that way.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that? And why doesn’t he ever leave the castle?”
Another uncomfortable silence moves about the room. The fire crackles over in the stone ovens, and my words hang in the air, unanswered.
“That one comes from a line of traitors,” Yenna says finally. “His mother and father were killed trying to lead a coup against Queen Sarielle. Many called for the execution of their offspring, but the Queen sent him here instead. There’s no safer place, outside the royal palace, than the home of the Guardians.”
“So, she’s trying to protect him from those who wish him harm?”
“Perhaps,” Yenna says. “But more so, to keep him under watchful eye. No prison could hold that one.”
“Why not?”
Yenna lets the silence fall even longer this time. When she finally speaks, she doesn’t turn from stirring her pot. “Best eat those muffins before they get cold.”
I eat in silence, regretting my words. It seems I’d finally found some friends, and then I’d gone and ruined it. Not a big surprise, given that social graces aren’t exactly my strong suit. Whatisa surprise is how much it stings. I’d thought I long ago gave up trying to have normal connections with anyone, but clearly there’s a part of me that still craves it.
When I’m done eating, I get up and look around to see which way I should leave. Carmeline comes over and directs me toward a door on my left. We travel down a long narrow passage. I begin to hear the sound of voices, which gradually increases to a loud hum that echoes into the enclosed space. The dining hall, clearly. I take in a deep breath and steel myself.
Carmeline pauses a few feet from the door. “Don’t feel bad,” she says. At first, I think she means about the cacophony of noise I’m about to be subjected to, but then she adds, “None of us like to talk about him, is all. He’s a traitor. We try to forget he’s even here.”
“You mean, his parents are traitors.” It’s a statement and a question both.
She lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I doubt the seed that falls from the tree is any less dark.”
I don’t quite know how to respond to this. Somehow it seems very unjust, but then, the guy doesn’t exactly seem innocent. I’d sensed it myself. Darkness, danger.
So why is it I somehow feel the need to defend him?
I force the thought from my head, and Carmeline surprises me by reaching out and taking my hand. “You’re welcome in the kitchen anytime,” she says. “Us humans have to stick together.”
She smiles that bright smile of hers, and I feel a strange swell of emotion at this unexpected kindness. “I appreciate that.”
With a nod of acknowledgement, she hikes her skirt up and hurries back to the kitchen.
