Page 112 of A Hunt Bound in Blood

Glory released a slow breath and nodded. “You’re right.”

Her worry shifted, lightening for a moment before settling into place again, this time with a different twist to it that I couldn’t identify.

“Is that all? What other spin can I talk you out of?” I asked.

The corner of her mouth curled upwards. “When did you get to know me so well?”

I leaned in to brush my lips over her ear. “I seem to have some memory of a blindfold?”

She shivered, and I smiled, satisfied at having such an effect on her. “So come on, Buttons, talk to me. What’s going on?”

I thought I had her, but she shut down again, her smile still in place but her expression shuttered, her emotions a scattered mess. I was about to give her another small push when someone near the road called out, “Mage Dolan!”

With my hand on her waist, I turned towards the voice and narrowed my eyes at the man all in black standing in the middle of the crowd. I recognized the king’s spymaster, Matthew Segrew, from his portrait in the papers. People moved around him as though he were a statue, yet no one looked at him. I suspected that was normally the case for him. A person with that much power in the king’s circle was destined for isolation.

Wary, we navigated across the docks until we reached him.

“You made it,” he said in a way that revealed no opinion on the matter. He might have been surprised, relieved, disappointed, and no one would know. “King Evaniel has been trying to reach you via the messaging crystal.”

Glory flushed. “There was… an incident with our packs. We lost the crystal.”

Segrew’s eyes narrowed in consideration, then dismissed the subject. “You have the amulet?”

“I do.” She reached for the chain beneath the loose shirt she’d borrowed from the ship’s captain.

“Good. Just in time, too, if the healers are to be trusted.” Segrew nodded to someone standing beside a carriage marked with the royal emblem. “We’ll get you to the palace where you can meet with the king. And I have the information you seek, Your Highness.”

I tensed at the title. I hadn’t earned it back, not yet, but hearing it made the results of our mission all the more real. Part of me hadn’t believed he’d been able to pull it off, but he truly was as well connected as the rumours claimed. As soon as I had that evidence in my hand, I could return home. I would be Cammon Ruxo in actuality.

Glory shifted away from me, striding towards the carriage with the same stiffness that had marked her gait when we’d first met. We were back in the city and she’d reverted to her old self. To be expected, especially under the spymaster’s watchful eye, so why did it pain me so much?

I followed and climbed into the carriage after her, seating myself on the bench beside her while the spymaster took the seat across from us.

The trip from the docks to the palace dragged even though it couldn’t have taken more than half the afternoon. The heavy metal gates around the palace courtyard opened, and the carriage stopped in front of the steps leading to the towering stone building.

A footman waited at the carriage door to help Glory down, and she accepted his hand as though she were used to the process. Because of course she was. This had been her second home for the past three years. Her domain. I was the interloper.

I couldn’t help but wonder if she was realizing the same thing. If the reality of being home had put what existed between us in a different light. My chest tightened at the thought that the look in her eyes and the kaleidoscope of her emotions was because she couldn’t see where I would fit into her life.

Segrew followed us out of the carriage and nodded to a woman dressed in the black-and-silver healer’s robes who waited nearby. “Mage Dolan, if you care to go with Healer Istan, she’ll take you to the king.”

Glory nodded and spared me only a quick glance before obeying. I watched her go, silently pleading with her to look back at me and let me know I could expect to see her again.

She didn’t.

They walked through a side door on the edge of the west wing, leaving me alone with Segrew.

“You may come with me, Your Highness.”

“Cammon,” I corrected tersely, then forced my shoulders to relax under his pointed stare. “I won’t feel comfortable with anything else until my father decrees it.”

“Very well,” he said as though it didn’t matter to him one way or another.

We walked up the steps towards the palace’s front doors, and they opened without his having to knock. He led us across the grand entrance, the wooden tiles polished to a high shine, the gilded staircases and mouldings adding a glow to the bright gaslight. The left staircase, its sweeping curve bringing us past windows that overlooked the Never Sea in the distance, led us to a gallery bright with the evening sun. The walls were painted a soft grey and lined with portraits of previous monarchs. Based on the dark stone of the exterior, I’d always imagined the inside of this place would be equally bleak and oppressive, but the design choices were predominantly soft, taking the narrow corridors into consideration and making use of the natural light.

Segrew stopped in front of an office at the end of the gallery and stood aside as he ushered me in.

This room was far more what I’d expected of the royal home. The walls were panelled in dark wood, the curtains heavy red velvet that cast deep shadows over floor and furniture, making the large room cramped. A wide desk, neatly organized with stacks of paper, took up most of the floor, with a tall chair on the far side and two smaller, uncomfortable-looking chairs closer to the door.