Page 28

TYCHO

It’s fully dark when I stroll across the training fields with Grey. The Queen’s Guard have begun their exercises, and swords clash in the arena behind us. Malin and Nolla Verin have disappeared into one of the groves with a torch, but I have no doubt we’ll hear clashing swords from their direction, too. The breeze is stronger out here, and Nakiis’s magic is in the air again. Nothing about it is a relief, because Grey would definitely not be pleased to find him here.

My shoulders are tense, waiting for him to talk, to tell me whatever Jake found so I can carry news back to Rhen. A few weeks ago, I dreaded the idea of being sent away, but now I long for it. The tension is almost unbearable. It’s not all between me and the king, but I can’t fix any of it.

But Grey doesn’t give me orders. He doesn’t say anything at all.

Eventually, we reach the far corner of the training fields, where it’s very dark, the sounds of distant swordplay very muffled. We’re closer to the soldier barracks than the palace now, and a long-buried memory comes to me. I was a recruit, and General Solt—then an army captain—caught me sneaking back after skipping drills. I hadn’t been doing it maliciously; I was just hiding with Noah. But Grey found Solt cornering me and he knocked him away.

I was ashamed of the reprimand—but the more potent part of the memory is remembering how Grey had my back. Knowing he would defend me when it mattered .

I haven’t felt that way in a while, and I don’t know when I stopped.

A small fence divides the training fields from the paths to the barracks, and that’s where Grey stops. He leans against the fence in the darkness.

“We’re far enough from everything, Tycho.” His voice is mild, and not without emotion. “Say whatever you mean to say to me.”

It’s not how I expected him to begin, and I fall back a step before I can stop myself. “Your Majesty—”

“Don’t do that.”

I close my mouth and go still. Insects sing in the trees around us.

Eventually, he’s the one who speaks. “The last time we were alone, you wanted to punch me in the face. Do you still?”

That was weeks ago. I remember the burning rage in my chest when we were racing to save Lia Mara and Sinna—and I was trying to stop him from killing Jax.

But fine. If he wants to start this way, I will.

“A little,” I say. “Are you offering again?”

“No.”

“Do you want to punch me in the face?”

“Tycho.”

“You seem like you do,” I say. “I rode hard to get here. I risked my life to warn you , and you chastised me in front of Malin.”

“You’re right,” he says, and his voice is a little rough. “I shouldn’t have. Forgive me.”

The apology takes me by surprise.

Maybe it’s obvious, because he adds, “I mean that truly. I shouldn’t have. Everything here is . . .” His eyes skip away. “Very tense.”

I take a breath, because I can hear what he’s not saying, and I don’t want to leave the words hanging between us. “I’ve heard about Lia Mara,” I say carefully. Despite everything, I don’t want to wound him. Not with this. “That things are . . . ?difficult between you.”

“She cares about her people. So do I, but . . .” He sighs, and sorrow flickers across his expression. “It seems everyone fears magic right now.”

When he says the words, another breeze laden with magic swirls between us, and Grey goes rigid.

“Is that your scraver?” he says pointedly. “You told me to double the guards around the palace. If he’s followed you here, it’s not making anything less tense.”

Your scraver. I fold my arms. “It sounds like you do want to punch me.”

“Stop it. Nakiis is risking himself by drawing close to the palace.” Grey says this so plainly that I know he’s not just warning me. “Fears have already been stoked in the city. Archers will shoot him on sight. If he’s seen, it would cause a panic.”

“I’m not sure what you think I can do about it. He’s got claws and fangs and he can tear a man apart in seconds. Short of shooting him down myself, I can’t control where he goes.”

The king’s expression is unyielding. He says nothing, but Grey doesn’t have to say the words. I hear them just the same.

You let him out of a cage to begin with.

No matter how many times he denies it, I know Grey would have done the same.

“Nakiis isn’t responsible for the attacks,” I say.

“How do you know? You don’t know who this Xovaar is, and you have no idea who he could be working with. You have no idea what their conflict might be. Nakiis has been part of an attack on a kingdom before. Rhen tells me you don’t even fully know what you’ve sworn to him.”

I was ready to remind the king that Nakiis saved him in Briarlock, but those words freeze me in place.

Rhen tells me.

This feels like a betrayal. Like a trick. Prince Rhen knew I’d refused to tell Grey about what I traded for the scraver’s assistance. When the prince asked if I trusted him enough to share the details of my conversation with Nakiis, I did .

My jaw is tight now.

“You swore a week of service to him?” Grey demands. “Without even knowing what he’d demand?”

“My father sold me to Worwick for five years. A week felt pretty short.”

“That’s not the same.”

“It’s exactly the same!” I snap. “I’ve sworn my entire life to you, so surely you can spare a few days.”

“I didn’t bring you out here to argue with you.” His voice goes quiet again, and something about it tugs at me.

I sigh and run a hand over the back of my neck. “Look, I know you don’t want me here. Just write your letter to Rhen or tell me whatever Jake said, and I’ll be out of your way. I can be gone in an hour.”

His eyebrows flicker into a frown, and he studies me in the darkness for an eternal moment. “I’m not sending you back to Ironrose, Tycho.”

My heart seems to stop. The world goes still. Even the insects fall silent—or maybe that’s just the roaring in my ears. The sky spins for a second and then rights itself. “ What? ”

“Why on earth are you surprised? You told me yourself that scravers are seeking magesmiths. I’m not sending you on a four-day ride alone —”

“Then send me back with guards!”

“So I should risk the lives of others because you’ve made yourself a target?”

Rage swells in me so hot and fast that I can’t contain it. I stride forward and shove him in the chest so hard that he falls back a step, but he grabs hold of my wrists, and we scuffle.

“Enough!” he barks. “Stand down!”

The part of my brain that spent years as a soldier almost has me snap to attention.

The part of my brain that’s colored with fury is already swinging a fist.

I nearly catch him in the jaw, but he blocks, shoving my arm wide. It leaves me open, and I don’t even see him move. I just feel a blow, and then I feel the ground. Blood and dirt are bitter on my tongue, and for a wild moment, I can’t breathe.

I really didn’t expect him to hit me.

He caught me in the side, just under the base of my rib cage, and it takes a minute to force air into my lungs. It doesn’t matter. My fingers curl into fists in the dirt, because I want to go after him again.

“Don’t do this, Tycho.”

Is that a warning? A threat? A plea? I can barely process the words. My heart keeps twisting, rebelling against the fact that he won’t let me leave. I might as well be a prisoner. Jax went to Ironrose, and now I’m stuck here .

He’s taken so much from you, and I don’t think he’s even aware of it.

Jax was right. Maybe I do hate the king.

I finally shove myself to my feet. Grey is watchful, ready for me to come at him again. We’re both fully armed, and it’s obvious that I’m not the only one carrying around a chest full of anger. Stars flicker in my vision, magic flaring, responding to my emotion.

Grey is watching me steadily, his eyes narrowed, and I know he senses it.

But a cool breeze whips between us, full of power. Nakiis’s voice reaches my ears, carried by the magic.

—Not yet, Tycho. Not yet.

The words wrap around me like a warning and a promise, the wind swirling away as quickly as it came.

Somehow, it takes some of the tension with it. I choke out a breath and force my hands away from my weapons. My fingers unclench. When I blink again, those sparks and stars scatter. Just me and the king on the field.

The silence between us is suddenly very loud.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” Grey says.

“Oh, you don’t?” I say, and my voice is rough.

“I’m keeping my people safe, Tycho.” He’s so still, so quiet. “That includes you.”

“Is that what you were doing the last time you forced me to stay here? Keeping me safe?”

His mouth forms a line, but he says nothing.

I don’t want to look at him now. “How will you send word to Rhen?”

What I really want to know is if I’ll be able to send word to Jax.

“I won’t,” he says. “Not yet. There are many things in motion that I cannot stop, and I will not cause more alarm and unrest. You were sent to take residence in Emberfall, and then you showed up in the middle of the night. There’s already enough gossip about that .”

I scowl but keep my mouth shut.

“And if you’re here,” he adds tersely, “you would do well to stay out of the public eye. Definitely avoid use of your magic. As you know, things at court are . . . ?very uncertain right now.”

I glare at him. “Stop acting like all of this is my fault,” I growl. “ I didn’t break your marriage. You did.”

Sudden rage flares in his eyes, and I almost regret the words. We’re both a little too angry, a little too raw, and I just struck back with equal force.

But then I see a flicker of the true pain behind his anger, and it’s as deep and potent as the moment he told me they lost the baby.

That twists at my heart in a way I don’t expect, and it steals my breath. “Grey,” I say. “Wait. Please. I didn’t—”

“ Stop ,” he says. “Stop now .”

These words are so tight and sharp that they draw me up short. I swallow everything I want to say.

“You are relieved of your duties,” he says, and his expression is as fierce as I’ve ever seen it. “You will remain on the palace grounds until I give you further orders. You are not to go beyond the gates, and you are not to use your magic. Am I clear?”

His voice is so cold that it almost makes me shiver. We both know what to do with violence, but this . . . ?this is different. I don’t know if it’s better or worse than when we were throwing punches.

I do know we’ve both been pushed far beyond our limits, and there might be no undoing any of this.

So I give him a sharp nod. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

He takes a step toward me, and the starlight glints in his eyes. “And if you ever call magic to fight me, Tycho, you will not be able to walk it back.”

I stare back at him. “Understood.”

He turns and strides away, leaving me alone in the darkness.