Page 74 of With Fangs and Claws (The Wolf Queen 1)

Chapter 31

His rooms were small and simple, tucked away in some place at the back of the castle. Out of sight, out of mind, I thought. His mouth twisted as he unlocked the door and then ushered me in. Gael, I was hit hard by that as I surveyed the place. I could smell his scent, faded and slightly stale from being closed up, something he rectified by opening his windows, but there was so much more.

His bed was set into a small room, not even having a door to screen it off from the rest of the living space, almost an alcove of sorts. On the other side there was a room that looked like a bathroom. He reached for a pulley, a faint ringing sound setting up somewhere else in the castle as a result.

“I’ll get you a bath set up,” he said. “Retrieve your saddle bags and your clothes…”

His voice trailed away though as I walked towards the back of the living room. There was a desk and all across it were papers and books, with meticulously drawn plans on rolls of paper.

“You must be cold,” he said. “We’re in the midst of summer, so it's warm during the day, but it still gets bloody chilly at night. I’ll set a fire.”

He did, because I dimly heard him rustling around, then the crackle of flames, followed by the door opening and him giving instructions to a servant to fill the bath, but they were just background noise as my fingers reached out, gently shifting through the papers.

“These are blueprints,” I said, glancing up at Gael when he got closer. “This is your vision for this city.”

“This city, any city…” His lips twisted then into a shape I now realised was his usual smile. It didn’t conform to the social expectation of one, and to me, that said a lot. That he didn’t feel like he could let his lips shift into a curve, that he didn’t dare bare his teeth. “It’s just rubbish, anyway.”

He went to sweep the papers out of the way, but my hand went to his arm, stopping him.

“I don’t have much to do when we are in the capital,” he explained, his eyes sliding down to focus on my hand. “My brothers slip out to spend time with me when they can, but… The queen works hard to underscore the differences between us. She can’t banish me to some hovel. Father won’t have that, so instead I’m just stowed away in the castle. A chess piece of questionable value, kept in its box until needed.”

“You have to know you’re more than that,” I said.

“Do I?” He stared down at me, his eyes glowing brighter and brighter as he took a step closer. His hand went to my cheek, his thumb brushing across it. “And why would I think that?” That thumb moved lower, skating across my bottom lip, and he watched with rapt attention when they parted. “The queen sets the tone in the court, and she’s made clear to everyone her thoughts about me, made it difficult for anyone to think otherwise, or risk her wrath.”

“And now she’s given me to you.”

I meant it as a positive thing, because if I was to be locked down here to alleviate Gael’s loneliness, well, I’d like that better than being hauled back before the royal couple. But as I spoke the words, Gael frowned slightly and so did I.

“So she did,” he said, getting closer again, his other hand going to my jaw. “She gave me the one thing all four of us desire over everything else. Why would she do that? She’s spent her life harassing me as much as my father will tolerate, so why give me you?”

My lips parted when his did, our breath coming faster and faster until a sharp knock at the door forced us apart. Gael blinked, stepping away from me consciously before turning to open it.

Water was brought in by a string of boys, poured into the copper tub in the other room, steam rising lazily from the surface.

“Take your bath, Darcy,” Gael said when they had left. “I’ll go get our things.”

Which left me alone in a strange palace, feeling like the walls were slowly closing in. I took a deep breath, feeling the tightness growing there. My mind was like a rabbit in a trap, kicking and fighting, thrashing and jumping with all its might to try to head off the perceived threat, but the challenges I was facing I couldn’t think my way through. Ruminating on this wouldn’t help. It stripped my ability to respond nimbly, to meet an actual threat head on rather than having me jumping at shadows. I glared down at the hot steamy water, closed the door and undressed.

When I got into the water, I narrowed my focus down on the lemon-yellow soap I’d been left with, doing what Nordred always told me to do.

“Be here, be now,” he’d said, twisting his practise sword to take another swipe at me.

“But Linnea—”

“Thinking about Linnea”—slash—“will not help”—slash—“you defend yourself.”

I struggled to block his blows, ultimately failing when his sword rapped me across the knuckles. I glared up at him mulishly.

“Quite the opposite,” Nordred continued. “Your mind is on what happened, what will happen and not on what is happening. Thinking ahead has its place, but it’s a tool we are all too willing to use. Don’t focus on the threats that might be there. Focus on what’s happening right now, because those threats may never eventuate.”

He’d struck out then, and I’d blocked him with ease, which had made him smile.

“Good, again.”

I came back to the bath, focussing now on the way the soap slid over my skin, on the grime that dissolved into the water, at the way I felt, finally feeling clean and when I stepped out, I found I could take a full breath with ease.

Gael lookedup when I emerged, wrapped up tight in a large drying cloth.

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