Page 22 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

He glanced toward me, eyes as sharp as ice.

“Besides,” he added, “commoner swordsmen die quietly. And healers follow orders.”

I clenched my jaw, the pieces falling into place so fast I felt dizzy.

The new structure. The sudden recruitment. The rapid shift in guild culture.

The illusion of reform hiding a war machine running on desperation and manipulation.

“I fucking hate politics,” I muttered.

Alahathrial’s expression didn’t change. “Get used to it,” he said softly. “You’re in the middle of a war.”

A sharp shout echoed from the hallway; booted footsteps thudding closer.

Alahathrial exhaled a soft sigh, the serenity never leaving his expression. “It seems our time has come to an end.”

He stood, smoothing the front of his robes with elegant ease, and looked at me with something warm in his lavender eyes.

“Please come back soon. You are always welcome, Ashlyn.”

Then he raised his hands and murmured something in a language I didn’t recognize, old and laced with power, the words curling like mist around us.

I turned to Tae just as his features shimmered. His armor deepened in tone, his shoulders broadened, and suddenly, I was staring at one of the guards we’d seen earlier, the very one Tae had scattered with that strange ability.

Tae blinked. Then stared at me like I’d grown wings.

“Wow, Ashe.”

“What?” I asked, frowning.

He motioned to the mirror beside the bookshelf.

I turned—and froze.

Gone was the white hair, the flight leathers, the wary eyes of a soldier on edge. Staring back at me was a tall brunette woman with cascading curls pinned elegantly around a crown of silver. I wore a floor-length gown in the deepest amethyst, the fabric clinging to curves I didn’t have, embroidered with tiny glimmering stars that shifted when I moved. My sleeves hung off the shoulder, sheer and threaded with silver filigree. My neck glittered with a sapphire choker, and even my lips had deepened into a berry gloss.

It was… extravagant.

Obvious.

Alahathrial smiled faintly. “You appear as my consort. Just walk out the front gate. Once you cross the castle wards, the illusion will fall, and you may return to your rooms.”

The door opened suddenly, and a real guard stepped inside, catching us mid-turn.

He glanced at me, eyes widening slightly. “I’m sorry, Alahathrial. I wasn’t aware Sheri was visiting tonight.”

Alahathrial gave a dismissive wave, his tone languid. “That’s quite alright. She just stopped by to make arrangements for a… special evening.”

He gestured to Tae, now a castle guard, who stood stiffly at my side.

“Roberto will escort her out.”

The guard gave a knowing smirk, nodding as he stepped aside. “Of course. Enjoy your night, my lord.”

Tae and I moved quickly but smoothly, exiting the suite and climbing the narrow stairwell. The glamour shimmered around us, catching the torchlight just enough to make me look like a woman who belonged to velvet cushions and whispered secrets, not stolen missions and ancient bloodlines.

It was working.