Page 49 of Manor of Wind and Nightmares (Fae of Brytwilde #3)

Now

S eeing Emberglade’s towers piercing the hazy sunset sky sent a flurry of emotions through me.

I could still walk those halls by memory, still recall the darkness that seemed to hover over the space as quiet servants and citizens whose magic wasn’t as powerful and oppressive as King Wystan’s eked out an existence.

Swallowing, I ducked behind a hedgerow before the guards patrolling the ramparts could spot me, and uncurled the paper Allvar had given me.

To cure your prince, you must craft a potion only shared among the spellweavers and occasional witch and warlock.

The most important ingredient is a drop of blood from the one who orchestrated the victim’s death.

Unfortunately, you were merely the instrument.

You know whose blood you need. Once you’ve succeeded, I’ll bring you back.

My breathing shallowed as I read and reread the note. At last, I forced myself to begin running through my options. Knowing the layout of the castle was helpful, as was my time here, which, if King Wystan’s habits remained the same, would aid me in narrowing down his location.

However, none of my training had taught me how to ambush a target that could read minds.

One mistake and I’d be dead before I’d have a hope of undoing all the ways I’d wronged Kaede and his kingdom.

Shoving my fear to the dark recesses of my mind, I approached the castle through a familiar, half-forgotten path through the gardens.

I’d traversed this many times during my stay here, taunting myself with the idea of leaving and willing the nightmarish world I felt trapped in to disappear.

But always, I’d return to my rooms, shaken to the core with the knowledge that there was no escaping the bargain I was trapped in.

If I failed to uphold my end, the consequences were unimaginable.

Sweat beading on my forehead, I paused in a shadowy alcove within the gardens, hidden from the guards by a half-wall covered in climbing ivy.

I warmed up my limbs by going through the stretches drilled into me, then plucked the dagger from my boot.

It was the one from the table at the great hall, one I’d used to help Laura and then kept, thankful the fae hadn’t noticed its absence.

Unsheathing the blade, I cut off strips of cloth from the bottom of my tunic.

Wrapping my palms, I tucked the dagger securely back in place.

I watched the guard on the outer wall, waiting for his patrol of this area to end.

Once she turned the corner, moving out of sight on her way toward the portion surrounding the entry gates, I knew I had sufficient time before anyone would walk that section again.

Drawing a deep breath, I began to scale the castle.

Outside each window, I paused, peering through the glass to scan the rooms within and check for occupants.

Outside one of the libraries on the third level, the sound of voices drifted toward me through the open windows. I lingered, glancing over the sill just long enough to find two servants dusting and sweeping as they gossiped.

“Surely Prince Kaede doesn’t have long now,” the male said, sliding a stack of books to the side to thoroughly dust a shelf.

The woman sighed from her spot near the hearth and leaned on her broom.

“Who can say? And what will another war bring? Sure, Willowbark will be weaker with both the king and the prince gone, but will we truly be guaranteed victory? Or will it be another bloody trial where we send our family to fight and suffer while...”

The man cut her off. “Hush, they could hear.”

With renewed vigor, I continued my climb, ignoring the shaking beginning in my muscles from the prolonged time I’d been suspended.

It had been too long since I’d trained and exerted myself like this.

Breathing deeply through my nose to keep quiet, I stopped outside the window leading to the infirmary’s storage closet, confirmed it was unoccupied and the door leading to the infirmary was shut, and began working the complicated locks that secured the windows from the outside.

One needed a bit of finesse along with the knowledge of the order each gear and mechanism needed to be moved in.

It was a system I’d been taught during my time here, for both Kymelle and King Wystan had been too proud and confident in their power to ever imagine I might use this knowledge against them.

Sweat dribbled from my brow as I leaned into the castle wall, supported only by my feet on a narrow ledge and my hand against the windowsill while I worked. My fingers felt clumsy after being wedged into the crevices of the stone wall, and despite the way I’d wrapped them, they were growing damp.

Finally, the lock sprang free, and I was able to push the window upward.

I landed in the room, praying I was light enough of foot that a fae in the next room wouldn’t have heard.

That was one thing I could never fully master—the ability to move so silently and gracefully I was unheard by their keen ears.

I’d practiced and practiced, only taking my trainer by surprise a handful of times over the long months.

Moving as swiftly and silently as I could, I approached the cabinets and scanned the shelves, plucking the first empty vial I found.

Voices outside the door made my heart rate accelerate, and I returned to the window as fast as I dared.

Swinging over the ledge, I slid the window shut, not bothering to waste time on refastening the lock.

By the time someone noticed the window wasn’t secure, I would either be long gone—or dead.

My final destination forced me toward the opposite side of the castle, so I shimmied along the ledge as far as I could go, ducking beneath windows and constantly scanning for anyone who might spy me from the grounds below.

At a corner, I was forced to descend back into the gardens.

The next side of the castle faced the wall upon which guards were posted constantly, keeping the gates secure at all hours of the day and night.

I would have to act casual, for as a lone figure strolling through the gardens, I wouldn’t be suspicious.

I forced myself to keep my steps easy, despite my heightened senses and my fear of someone peering outside from a lower level of the castle and catching a good enough look at my face to recognize me.

Too many servants and guards would remember the human who’d lived among them for so long, learning their ways.

At last, I turned another corner and slipped out of the posted guards’ sight.

These walls faced the fields where the horses grazed and King Wystan and his family rode, so the guards didn’t stand sentinel here, instead making regular patrols.

As before, I waited and watched, sitting on a bench tucked into the shadows to help conceal my face.

When a guard completed his paces across this section of the wall and back toward the gates, I rose and stretched once more to limber my arms and legs.

Everything was similar to my last climb, except for my heightened nerves. I couldn’t completely block out the fear, not when I knew what was at stake. Not when I was about to face the king who’d doomed me to this cursed life—and, worst of all, doomed Kaede to a cursed death.

As long as his habits hadn’t changed since before Kaede’s assassination and the subsequent war, he was only a few stories away.

When I reached the ledge, my body trembled, and I had to collect myself.

With a conscious effort, I worked through everything I needed to do, imagining the room in my mind and the steps I would take.

Ever so slowly, the terror subsided enough for my body to relax and my thoughts to clear.

I peered through the window cautiously, finding the form I’d expected lounging in his high-backed chair in the war room.

Sweat beading on my brow, I unlocked the window with nimble fingers, praying he wouldn’t turn, praying he wouldn’t hear.

I managed to slide the window up silently, pull the dagger from my boot, and swing within.

I was two steps behind him when he spoke.

“Aurelia. I never expected you to venture here willingly again.” He chuckled, low in his throat, before pushing his chair back, rising, and turning all in a few smooth movements. “Who hired you to assassinate me? Or was it another unfortunate bargain?”

The dagger’s hilt was slick in my palm, so I tightened my grasp as King Wystan’s orange gaze pierced mine.

“Oh.” His lips twisted into a smirk as he read my thoughts. “This is even better. You’re here to undo the damage done to your prince?” He laughed outright. “Now, now, that would be breaking your word.”

I swallowed thickly. “I already killed him as promised. Nothing in our bargain mentioned the prince being brought back to life and needing to die a second time.”

King Wystan shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You’ve failed. I do find it ironic that you’ve fallen for the man you killed. You are the author of your own heartbreak, and what a deliciously tragic tale it is.”

Despair swept through me, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to avoid the tears that threatened.

Failure was unthinkable. Losing Kaede the first time nearly undid me.

Losing him a second time? My own death would be a mercy compared to that.

But King Wystan was a sadistic, nasty creature, and now that he knew I was in love with Kaede, he would keep me alive so I could learn of his death and experience the full extent of that loss.

He stepped nearer, bridging the gap between us until I could practically feel the excitement emanating from him. The anticipation of watching me break.

“Perhaps this time I’ll glamour you, force you to return to Willowbark so you can watch Prince Kaede’s death firsthand, and then force your return here to the dungeons, where you can live out the rest of your short, wretched, mortal days in misery.”

My stomach clenched, but I refused to let the power of his words overwhelm me.

He was taunting me, wanting to force me into terror and submission.

The truth was, he could command me here with his glamour: make me slit my own throat, bow and kiss his feet, or leap to my death from the window.

But once I was out of his presence, the hold his glamour had on me would lessen.

He was twisting his words, telling me how he could glamour me but not how long the effects of it would actually last.

“It will be a pleasure to watch you fall apart, you foul traitor,” he gloated. “To make a bargain with me and then come back to murder me? I will make your suffering so great you will wish your pathetic mortal years were even shorter.”

I could feel magic tingling in the air as he silently summoned it, preparing to glamour me, to condemn me to the life he’d been threatening me with.

I let a single tear trickle down my cheek as I squeezed my eyes tightly closed, knowing any second his words could trap me.