Page 12 of The Beginning (Covert Moon, #1)

Eamonn

The Fae Realm

* * *

I walked slowly, my steps heavy and uneven.

The stone floors of the castle echoed each footfall back at me, a hollow reminder of my solitary journey.

I had to report this to my superiors, but what could I say?

I failed at my duty. The weight of that knowledge pressed down on my shoulders like a physical burden, making each step more labored than the last.

I left the carriage gate, ignoring the questioning looks of the other guards. As I walked on, my mind raced, hoping against hope that Gavin had been given some other directions; that there were some other orders that I somehow didn't hear.

That was it. That had to be it. The thought took root in my mind, and I clung to it desperately.

There was no way that Gavin would betray his oath to the king or betray his oath to his fellow Guardsmen—or to me.

We had sworn each of those oaths together, side by side, our voices joining in unison as we pledged our lives to the crown, to our order, to each other.

There was absolutely no way. He was my best friend.

I took a longer way back to the King’s Guard rooms, thinking that perhaps the facts as I knew them would prove to have a different outcome if I allowed myself a bit more time to think through them.

The familiar tapestries that lined these walls usually brought me comfort, depicting as they did the great victories of our realm, but today they seemed to stare down at me with judgment.

I felt the sinking in my stomach as I contemplated the possibilities. Each scenario that played through my mind was worse than the last, and none of them ended with my reputation intact.

This wasn't happening. This was not supposed to happen to me.

The words repeated in my head like a mantra, but they brought no comfort.

I'd been lucky my whole life. Every door that had opened, every opportunity that had presented itself, every challenge I had faced—luck had been my constant companion.

I was the youngest member ever selected for the King's Guard. It was all I'd ever wanted. The dream that had sustained me through years of training, through the endless drills and exercises, through the moments when I thought I wasn't strong enough or fast enough or clever enough.

Gavin was selected after me, and I was thrilled to have a friend be part of my life's dream with me.

His familiar grin when he'd received the news, the way we'd celebrated together in the tavern that night, sharing ale and dreams of the adventures that awaited us.

I'd been lucky to be selected, coming from a humble background as I did.

My father's position as a palace guard had given me proximity to greatness, but not any guarantee of it.

All I had done to prove that I deserved my position could be undone by this.

It might even be used against me. The whispers that had followed me through training—that I was only here because of connections, because of favoritism—would resurface with a vengeance.

Then a new thought emerged that stopped me in my tracks. This wasn’t just about me.

What would happen with Wendalina?

She and I had been friends since childhood.

We both had dreams beyond our small village, dreams that had seemed so achievable when we whispered about them as children, lying in the meadow beyond the village boundaries, staring up at the stars.

Me to the King’s Guard, her to the castle working for a lady of the court.

Those dreams had seemed so simple then, so pure in their ambition.

She'd started as a housemaid, then moved up to a position as a lady's maid.

I remembered how proud she'd been when she'd written to tell me of that promotion, how her letters had sparkled with excitement and possibility.

Recently, she'd been moved again to the position of the Lady Sunella's companion.

Each step up the ladder had brought her closer to the life she'd always envisioned for herself.

It was a good position for someone like Wendalina, the result of her steadfast and hard work.

She was intelligent, well-spoken, and possessed of the kind of quiet grace that noble ladies appreciated in their companions.

She was a good match for me. I hadn't thought of her as a wife when I was younger—then, she had simply been Wenda, my closest friend, my confidant, the girl who could climb trees better than any of the boys in the village.

But over the past two years, my thoughts had turned to a time when I could marry and promise a good life for my bride.

The security of my position in the King's Guard, the steady income, the respect that came with the uniform—all of it had seemed to point toward a future where Wenda and I could build something together.

What would this disaster with Lady Annaliese mean for us?

For our future? The question twisted in my gut like a blade.

Telling Wenda would be as bad as telling my commander.

Perhaps worse, because the commander would judge me as a soldier, but Wenda would judge me as a man.

I could imagine the disappointment in her eyes, the way her face would fall when she realized that all our carefully laid plans were crumbling—I wasn't sure I could bear it.

My heart sank a little more, solidly into my feet now. Each step felt like walking through thick mud, the weight of impending doom making even the simple act of moving forward a monumental effort.

As I walked through the corridors, they became busier, with more people moving about.

The familiar bustle of castle life continued around me, oblivious to my personal crisis.

It was mostly the castle staff—servants carrying linens, pages rushing with messages, cooks' assistants hauling ingredients from the storerooms. The normalcy of it all felt surreal.

How could the world continue to function when mine was falling apart? I avoided the eyes of all and kept walking, pulling my cloak tighter around myself as if it could shield me from their potential scrutiny.

One of the King's Guards passed me, his stride confident and purposeful—everything I was until a quarter of an hour ago.

"Is she off then? Not too many tears?" He grinned, clearly expecting nothing more than routine banter about a typical escort duty. The kind of conversation we'd had dozens of times before, light and easy, full of the camaraderie that made this job enjoyable.

The sick feeling in my stomach turned into an anvil of lead and plummeted as far as it could go, as if my body had discovered new depths of dread I hadn't known existed. The pain brought on by his casual question was an unwelcome reminder that what had happened was anything but routine.

"Yes," I said. The word came out rough, barely more than a whisper. I couldn't even muster a smile. "The lady’s gone." The truth of those words settled over me like a shroud. She was gone, all right—but not in the way anyone expected.

I averted my eyes once more and continued my path toward the commander's office. The familiar route that I had walked so many times before now felt foreign, as if I were seeing it through different eyes.

A lesser man might have crafted a clever lie, but I could never…

would never. Beyond the fact that it was one of the principles that had been drilled into us from the very beginning of our training.

Honor, duty, truthfulness—the cornerstones of what it meant to be a King's Guard…

my own honor demanded it. But neither did I wish to give any further explanation.

Not until I talked to the commander. Not until I'd understood whether Gavin had not only betrayed his oath but whether I had been deliberately deceived by someone I trusted.

This added another layer of pain to an already unbearable situation.

Finally, reluctantly, I reached the commander's office.

The heavy wooden door loomed before me, as imposing as a castle gate.

I stood outside the door for a moment, listening.

I could hear the scratch of a quill against parchment, the rustle of papers being moved about.

I couldn't hear any voices within. Which meant he was probably alone.

That was a good thing, I thought. It meant that if Gavin had some agenda I was unaware of, the commander would be able to speak of it.

Without an audience, he would be able to tell me what happened.

Hopefully, I could mitigate some of the blame for losing the Lady Annaliese.

Though even as I thought it, I knew how foolish that hope was.

In the end it was my fault. The truth of it settled in my chest. I was the senior Guard assigned to this detail. The responsibility had been mine from the beginning, and no amount of hoping or wishing could change that fundamental fact.

And I had lost her. Well, not entirely lost her, but my fellow Guard ran off with her.

She wasn’t going to get to where she was supposed to be.

Their faces as the carriage drove away assured me of the fact.

But to explain it all? The words sounded ridiculous even in my own mind.

How did one explain such a thing? How did one account for the unthinkable?

Gavin's part in this was clear—whatever had possessed him to abandon his duty, to betray his oath, to run off with a lady under our protection?

Mine was not staying with the pair of them until the end.

I'd been the one who gave them an opening.

My decision to investigate the commotion, while justified, had created the opportunity for whatever this was to unfold.

What would they have done if I had been there at the carriage? Was Gavin planning to knock me out? The thought sent a chill down my spine. Had my friend—my brother in arms—been prepared to use violence against me? The idea seemed impossible, yet here we were.