Page 6

TYCHO

I thought everything would be easier when we got to Ironrose.

Imagine my surprise that it’s not.

Despite my exhaustion, I hardly slept. Every fiber of my being is urging me to stride out of the castle, cross the grounds, and rap on Jax’s door. I want to chase the worry out of his hazel-green eyes. I want to lead him onto the training fields and teach him everything I know, so he’ll never have to worry about anyone hurting him ever again. I want to find every single person who might mean him harm so I can show them what a mistake that would be.

I want to inhale his breath and listen to his heartbeat and pretend the world doesn’t exist for a while.

The king should be here, by your side, defending you.

His words stoked a flame in my heart that hasn’t dimmed—and my loyalty to Grey nearly made me turn it into an argument. My chest feels tight, resentment sitting in my gut.

It’s making it difficult to pay attention to what Prince Rhen is saying. We’re in his strategy room, late afternoon sun beaming through the windows. He’s been making notes along a slip of parchment while he talks. He looks better rested than I am, but he was already awake and working when I finally made my way in here.

“I’ve started preparing an accounting of what happened for Grey,” Rhen says. “I’ve also sent word to the nearest cities for reports on whether there have been any other scraver attacks. I will wait for a response, but I will not detain you longer than a day. If there is a chance that violent scravers seek a magesmith, my brother needs to know as soon as possible.”

I go still at those words. My blood turns to ice.

I will not detain you longer than a day.

If he didn’t have my full attention a minute ago, he does now.

Prince Rhen intends to send me back to Syhl Shallow.

Of course he does. The worst part is that I agree with him. The king does need to know.

I force myself to nod. “I understand.”

“Grey and Lia Mara were to have the second part of the Royal Challenge in Syhl Shallow this autumn, but they will need to weigh the political ramifications of hosting an event after such a bold attack on the throne. Canceling could send a message of fear—but hosting one could be a risk. Even still, it would do well to continue their vision of unity between the countries. A sense of accord is very much needed right now. Lord Alek should be in the Crystal City by now. Once Grey interrogates him, he and Lia Mara will need to make a decision about how to proceed.”

Lord Alek.

The last time I rode courier between Emberfall and Syhl Shallow, he tried to kill me. I sure hope Prince Rhen was right about Grey keeping him on a short leash.

And I’ll be riding right back to a palace where the king doesn’t want me.

So much tension is coiled inside me with nowhere to go. The prince keeps writing and talking, but I’ve stopped listening entirely.

I saw the look in Jax’s eyes when I left him in the Shield House. Now I have to tell him that I’m leaving Emberfall.

Prince Rhen looks up from his paper, and I realize he must have said something that requires a response.

I have no idea what it is, but I nod dutifully. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Rhen’s not a fool. He regards me for a moment, then sits back in his chair and sets aside the parchment entirely.

My shoulders tighten, and I expect a word of rebuke, as that’s all I’ve gotten from Grey in recent weeks. Something like, You should be grateful, Tycho. You are the King’s Courier. You’ve already put the kingdom at risk. Jax could have found his fate at the end of a rope.

Rhen only says, “Should I send someone else?”

His voice is quiet, lacking recrimination, but I scowl and look away. I know my duties. I don’t even want to consider how Grey would react if Rhen sent a guard or a soldier with a missive like this. I’m in enough trouble already.

“No,” I say.

“I could. I know you expected to remain at Ironrose until you received a summons from Grey.”

That snaps my head back around. “ No. ”

“I’ve considered that it could be dangerous to send you, if there are scravers lying in wait to attack a magesmith.”

That nearly gets me. I hate how very badly I’d like to claim this excuse—but it sits a little too close to fear, and Grey would never allow it. If I want to keep my position, I need to be the one to deliver this message to the king.

“If there are scravers lying in wait,” I say, “it would be unfair to send someone else. At least I have magic to protect myself.”

“Ah, yes. Your magic .”

The way he says that makes me go still.

Rhen doesn’t look away. “I asked Jax if you used magic, and he denied it. Did he know?”

He’s asking if Jax lied right to his face.

I think of that moment in the tent, when he asked if Jax was causing a problem with the soldiers, and I brace myself. “Yes,” I say, “but you must know—”

“Tycho.”

“—he’s simply trying to protect me. He’s not causing a problem with the soldiers either. They’re worried about his involvement with the Truthbringers, but you know how gossip flies. Some of them think he had something to do with the scravers, but—”

“ Tycho. ”

I stop. My hand is tight against the edge of the table.

But then I can’t stop. I rush on, heedless. “I’ll do my duty. I swear it. Whatever you need. I’ll carry your message to Grey. But please—Your Highness—please don’t send him back to Briarlock. If Alek is loose, he’ll kill him. I know he will. Jax can’t run. His father is dead. Even Callyn is gone. He’d be alone. He’d have no defense. Please. ”

This time he waits until I’ve finished speaking, and I’m a bit breathless. Rhen hasn’t moved, and he’s just looking right back at me.

“Are you done?” he says.

I frown, abashed. I feel warmth crawling up my neck.

A line appears between his eyebrows. “Why would you think I’m sending him back to Briarlock?”

“You said you noticed problems with the soldiers,” I say, more quietly this time. “And I know he lied about the magic, but . . .” My voice trails off.

“He’s very loyal to you. I wasn’t looking to censure that, Tycho. I admire it.”

That makes me flush fully.

He continues, “When I mentioned the soldiers, it was because I do not want them sowing discord over Jax’s presence here. Tensions are high enough. We are at peace with Syhl Shallow. If there is a problem to be solved, tell me, and I will solve it.” He pauses. “I know you and my brother have yet to come to terms over your differences, but you offered me your trust. I’ll do my best to be worthy of it.”

On the day we left Briarlock, I refused to tell Grey what I’d sworn to Nakiis. But later, Rhen asked if I trusted him enough to tell him .

And I did. When it comes to the king, I seem to have nothing but the capacity for failure anymore. But Rhen defended me against Alek, and more than once. He spoke up for me to Grey. He offered Jax the position here, and I have no doubt that a good part of his reasoning was as a kindness to me .

“You are worthy of it,” I say quietly.

“Thank you.” He pauses. “So tell me truly. Should I send someone else?”

I consider Grey’s reaction if someone else rode up to the gates of the Crystal Palace. I consider that remaining here might make Ironrose a target, if I’m the one the scravers are after.

I consider the sound of Jax’s breath when I pressed him up against the door of his room this morning. I consider how badly I want to stay.

I have to look away. “No. You shouldn’t send someone else.”

Rhen is quiet for a long moment. “Very well. But if scravers seek you , sending you alone might leave you too vulnerable. With Truthbringers plotting against the king, I don’t want to make you a target for anyone else . Scravers aren’t the only thing we have to worry about right now.” He sighs, considering. “One of the soldiers we first left with spoke some Syssalah. Do you remember which one?”

I think of the young men playing a prank this morning. It should have made me smile—but it didn’t. I was too eager to get away from the soldiers, my thoughts about Jax too wound up and complicated to process. But I nod. “Malin.”

Rhen makes a note on his parchment. “Take Malin, and wear army livery. You can be soldiers delivering orders across the border. Stick to the main roads, and ride through the day.” He looks down at the table and moves some papers until he reveals a map of Emberfall. “If you leave by midday tomorrow, you should be able to reach Redcrest by sundown.”

Wear army livery. I feel like a nail has been hammered into the side of my rib cage.

I force myself to nod, because I just swore that I would do my duty, and I can’t exactly walk it back now. “As you say.”

“The Truthbringers may have been stopped in Briarlock, but I hold no illusion that they were all eradicated. Any who remain will be more cautious. I know the scraver Nakiis helped you in battle, and I know you swore to fight at his side when he calls. But Nakiis was once bound to the magesmith Lilith—and she nearly caused the downfall of this entire kingdom. You must be wary, Tycho. If there are more scraver attacks, it will lend weight to the Truthbringer cause that magic is a threat. This will not go well for the king.”

“I know.”

Rhen looks back at his letter and writes for a while, and the silence builds between us again. It’s so different to sit with him instead of Grey. I don’t know when it changed, but all my time with the king seems to make me feel like I’ll never measure up.

Rhen speaks into my silence. “Was Jax satisfied with the Shield House? You didn’t say.”

I can’t help but glance at the window. I think of the way Jax would glare at Rhen’s tent every time he thought I wouldn’t notice.

He’s honestly lucky the prince didn’t notice.

Prince Rhen said Jax was very loyal for lying to protect me, but I’m willing to bet at least half of it was sheer belligerence.

“Yes,” I say. “Overwhelmed, I think. He’s grateful for the position.”

Though I’m not sure how much gratitude will be left once I tell him I’m leaving again.

“Make sure he knows he’s welcome to call at court if it suits him. I don’t think Harper will forgive me for not bringing him around this morning, but I know you both needed to rest.”

I doubt Jax would willingly go anywhere near Prince Rhen, but I nod. “I’ll tell him.”

Rhen looks up, and I’m not sure what he sees in my face, but there must be longing in my voice, because he says, “Go, Tycho. You have less than a day of liberty. I know you don’t want to spend it in here .”

I sigh, but he’s right. I shove myself out of the chair.

Rhen goes back to his letter, all business once again. His golden hair falls over the patch covering his missing eye, and I think of the way he asked about trust. I think of the way he asked about friendship , as if he wasn’t sure.

I would never call him lonely, but just now, I’m the one who isn’t sure.

I’ve stopped in the doorway, but he doesn’t look up, and his pen doesn’t stop moving. “Don’t linger,” he says lightly. “It’s unbecoming.”

“Do you care to spar tomorrow?” I say. “We could meet in the arena before I have to leave.”

His hand goes still, and for a moment, there’s a sudden weight in the room.

I instantly realize why, and I wish I could undo it.

Rhen hates the arena, the way I hate the soldiers, or the gold-and-red livery, or the memories of my childhood. He has just as many demons as I do. His are different, but just as haunting, formed by years of torment. I don’t know all the details—but I know he and Grey used to be tortured in that arena.

“Forgive me,” I say immediately. “I only meant—we could meet in the courtyard instead—”

“I know what you meant.” His voice is a bit hollow, and he looks back at his paper. “And the courtyard torments you , does it not?”

Silver hell.

Rhen still hasn’t looked up, and now that feels very deliberate.

I let out a breath and turn away. He offered friendship, he asked for trust , and now I worry that I’ve unraveled it.

“Forgive me,” I say again. “I meant no harm. I thought you might enjoy the swordplay.” I don’t wait for a response; I simply turn for the door.

But the prince speaks at my back. “Tycho,” he says. “I admire your loyalty, too. I’ll do my best to make sure Jax faces few hardships until you return.”

I hesitate. He’s already done enough, and he shouldn’t have to trouble himself with that. But it’s like we’re both stumbling through the concept of friendship, and with Prince Rhen, it’s odd to consider him stumbling through anything.

“Thank you,” I say, looking over my shoulder.

“And I would enjoy a bit of swordplay,” he says, without looking up. That hollow note is back in his voice. “But I haven’t drawn blades in that arena since Emberfall was trapped by the curse.”

I frown. “Your Highness, I swear to you. I didn’t intend—”

“I know,” he says. He finally looks up at me, and the hair falls back from the patch over his eye, leaving the scars that peek out from behind it fully visible. “But maybe it’s time to leave old wounds behind. I’ll meet you in the arena, Tycho. Two hours past sunrise. Don’t be late.”