Page 32 of The Beginning (Covert Moon, #1)

The worst part was that I couldn't even properly blame her. What kind of future was I offering? A man in disgrace, stationed at an outpost with no clear end to his exile, unable to even tell his family the true nature of his work. While there was no hiding what command I was part of, Connar had made it clear that we didn’t go into a lot of detail with our families and loved ones.

What woman would want that? What sensible woman would wait indefinitely for such uncertainty?

But damn it all, I'd thought she was different. I'd thought what we had was stronger than convenience and social standing.

I didn't know how long I sat there, the letter crumpled in my hand again, staring at the trees in the distance and not seeing anything.

. The sun moved overhead, shadows shifted across the garden, and still I sat there feeling like someone had carved out my insides with a dull knife.

Eventually, life intruded again, as it always does, with the arrival of a young guard.

The guard was one even younger than Tobias—a man named Gerald.

He looked barely old enough to shave, let alone carry a sword, and he burst into the courtyard with all the subtlety of a charging bull.

As with all of my men, I wondered what he had done to be exiled to the Watchers.

"Sir! Sir—you need to come to the gate!"

His face was flushed with excitement and exertion, and he was practically vibrating with nervous energy. Whatever was happening, it was clearly one of the most interesting things to happen to him.

"What is it, Gerald?" I asked the younger man, forcing myself to focus on the present crisis rather than dwelling on my personal disasters.

Gerald swallowed hard, clearly having run all the way from one of the gates.

His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

He took a deep breath and said, "We have visitors—looks like a lord and his lady—asking for you specifically at the Goblin gate!

" Gerald's eyes were wide with the kind of excitement that came from breaking routine.

"They knew your name, sir. Asked for Captain Eamonn directly. "

In addition to keeping watch over the Veil between Human and Fae Realms, the Watchers' manse was stationed at an entrance between two of the Realms within our world.

We straddled the border between the Fae Realm of King Jharak, and the Goblin Realm of King Brennan, King Jharak's son.

It was a strategic position, though not one that saw much traffic under normal circumstances.

I'd been told that King Brennan visited here occasionally, and like his father, he was a good man and a good king.

But King Brennan was newly married, expecting a child with his bride. I'd had no expectation of his paying us a visit for some time. New fathers-to-be rarely went gallivanting around their borders, especially not to remote outposts.

I stood up slowly, tucking the letter into my pocket where it seemed to burn against my leg.

A lord and a lady? Asking for me? I wasn't a lord, nor did I mingle with any. My social circle had contracted considerably since my disgrace. There was very little reason for nobility to be asking after me by name, and even less reason for them to approach through the Goblin Gate.

Perhaps it was the father of Lady Annaliese, though why he'd come through King Brennan's territory was beyond me.

Or maybe Lord Marius, come to give me a piece of his mind, unable to forget my part in him being spurned by Lady Annaliese?

The thought made me grimace. Marius wasn't a bad man, but he was persistent to a fault, and his romantic troubles weren't something I wanted to discuss.

I glanced down to make sure I was presentable, just in case it was someone from court.

The habits of court training died hard, even in disgrace.

Unlike my King's Guard uniform of soft, fine leather and my lovingly polished boots, we wore a more nondescript garb here.

Indeed, there was no dress uniform for the day-to-day here, as we had no inspections.

No one cared if your boots were polished to mirror brightness or if every piece of equipment was precisely positioned.

I found that I even missed my cape that was part of the formal uniform I used to wear.

The cape had made me feel important, official. It had weight and presence.

No, we dressed as no other fae I'd ever seen.

Many of the men wore what looked like technical gear, trousers with many pockets, and black or brown boots, fitted shirts and jackets that changed depending on the weather wherever they might cross into the Human Realm.

The clothing was practical rather than impressive.

I wore dark cotton trousers, sturdy but unremarkable, and cotton shirts of varying dark colors. The fabric breathed well and moved easily, but it felt common after years of fine materials. My boots today were brown leather, polished though worn.

The reason for the strange uniforms that weren't really uniforms was one that Connar had explained when he'd given me a pile of clothing on my first day.

He'd been matter-of-fact about it, as though dressing like a commoner was perfectly normal for fae nobility.

He said we'd fit right into the Human Realm when we portaled.

I had no reason not to trust in the truth of it.

I followed Gerald through our headquarters, then making our way through the grounds to the Goblin Gate.

The compound was larger than it appeared from the outside, a small castle more than a mansion, even though it was referred to as ‘the Manse’, with corridors that twisted and turned in ways that suggested they'd been built over time rather than planned all at once.

Everything about this particular location suggested subterfuge, keeping things hidden.

The very architecture seemed designed to confuse and conceal.

I felt like although Connar had been honest with me, he hadn't told me everything.

He'd given me facts—my duties, my authority, the basic structure of the command—but there were undercurrents here that I was still discovering.

The longer I was here, the more that idea was reinforced.

Unfortunately, I hadn't found any reason or fact to substantiate my feelings.

But still, they remained, like an itch I couldn't quite scratch.

We approached the gate—an original wooden gate where people would pass between the Goblin Realm and the Fae Realm.

It was old, rather tattered, and in need of repair.

The wood was weathered gray, and there were gaps between some of the planks where the timber had shrunk.

I hadn't gotten that far down on the to-do list yet.

There were always more pressing matters than aesthetic improvements.

In the two months that I'd been here, no one had ever passed through it. While King Brennan was a good king, if he came visiting, it wasn't via this gate. Surely royalty used more impressive entrances when they traveled?

I stood back and waited as Gerald went to the gate itself, fumbling with the heavy iron latch. His hands shook slightly with nerves as he worked to open it up. The hinges creaked in protest, clearly unused to movement.

In the doorway stood none other than Lady Annaliese, her arm wrapped around Gavin's.

For a moment, I couldn't process what I was seeing.

It was like my mind rejected the image entirely.

Lady Annaliese looked exactly as I remembered—dark hair touched with auburn, pale skin, the kind of beauty that turned heads at court.

She was dressed in traveling clothes, but fine ones, cut from good fabric and tailored to fit perfectly.

Gavin looked... different. Older somehow, though it had only been two months. His face had lost some of its boyish softness, and there were lines around his eyes that hadn't been there before.

The rage that hit me was immediate and overwhelming. All the frustration and anger and humiliation I'd been carrying for two months focused into a single point of fury. Here was the architect of my downfall, standing in my outpost as though nothing had happened.

Before I could think, before I could remember my position or my dignity or anything except the months of exile and the letter burning in my pocket, my fist was flying toward Gavin's surprised face.