Page 54 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

brEYLA

D espite my protests at sleeping in Ayden’s room and the unease I feel lying in bed next to anyone but Aurelius or Elijah, sleep finds me quickly. The emotional and physical exertion of the evening had been enough to let me drift off the instant my head hit the pillow.

But it doesn’t last.

Barely two hours later, I jolt awake, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon. My heart races, a surge of adrenaline crackling through my veins as my eyes dart around the dark room. There’s no obvious threat, but dread churns in my gut like something is terribly wrong.

Slipping from bed, I find Ayden’s sword resting on the chair across the room. Weapon in hand, I creep through the room on silent feet in search of what may have disturbed me.

“Get back in bed, love,” Ayden groans, his voice rough with sleep.

“Something’s wrong,” I whisper.

I check the bathing chamber and the sitting room, finding nothing unusual. Nothing’s out of place. The lock on his door is secure.

His sleep-tousled hair sticks up in every direction, and red rims his eyes. “The only thing wrong is that we’ve only had an hour of sleep and you’re trying to fight ghosts.”

I huff, dropping the sword back into the chair before settling on the edge of the bed.

An electric current courses through me, my muscles begging to be used, and my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. My whole body hums like it just walked off a battlefield.

I cross my arms in front of my chest. “I can’t sleep anymore.”

“Why not?” Ayden yawns.

“My body feels…” I pause, trying to find the words. “It feels like I’ve just come off a fight.”

“You’re experiencing battle high at six in the morning?”

“Apparently so.”

Ayden groans as he lifts himself upright, swinging his legs off the bed. The only thing he’d worn to sleep was a pair of loose gray pants, and getting him to wear even that had been a fight. Apparently, he usually sleeps naked.

I swear I hear him whimper as he drags fleece-lined leathers up his legs. Once he’s fully dressed, he turns to me, running a hand over his face in an attempt to wipe the sleep from his face. “Well, come on then. Get dressed and we’ll go spar.”

“You’re going to spar with me half asleep?”

“It’s either that or fuck, and even if you’d let me between those creamy thighs, I don’t fancy the idea of taking you when my brother’s seed is still leaking from your pretty little cunt.”

My mouth gapes open, trying to process the words coming out of his mouth.

“Too vulgar for you, Princess?” He yawns, stretching his arms above his head. “Sorry, I get crude when I’ve only had an hour of sleep.”

I refuse to let this male rattle me, so before I can think better of it, I snap back, “Oh my cunt isn’t the only place his seed was left.”

That wakes him up. His eyes snap wide, the last of the sleep vanishing.

“My, my.” A smirk curls his lips. “Aren’t you full of surprises?”

“Among other things,” I mutter, yanking on my gear.

Ten minutes later, we’re circling each other in the training ring. Ayden had given the soldiers the morning off after last night’s festivities, so we’re alone. It’s eerily quiet as I wait for Ayden to make the first move.

“Come on, General,” he taunts. “Throw that first punch like I know you want to.”

“I don’t think so, Prince.”

I see the exact moment his patience runs out. His fist is a blur as it flies toward my face. I manage to dodge it easily enough, dipping low and throwing a punch of my own into his solar plexus. My aim is off by an inch, and it doesn’t have the impact I was hoping.

Ayden sputters, but recovers quickly, aiming another fist for my stomach. This one lands, stealing the breath from my lungs, and I stumble back.

I snap a roundhouse kick at him, but he catches my leg mid-air and flips me to the ground.

I wasn’t born yesterday, though. Before he can pin me, I roll to the side and spring back onto my feet.

Our match continues, we trade blow for blow, neither of us relenting. For a moment, I think I’ll drive him outside the boundary line to claim the victory. The excitement is short-lived when he ducks low and drives his shoulder into my stomach.

The move catches me off guard, giving him the opportunity to pin me to the ground.

His arm bands across my chest, pressing into my throat just shy of choking. “Yield?”

After a few more seconds of struggling to free myself, I finally tap his arm twice to signal my yield.

He stands, offering me an outstretched arm. “Good match, let’s go again.”

An hour later, we’re both drenched in sweat, panting heavily, and ready for a break.

I’ve worked off enough of the battle high to remember that I’m thoroughly irritated by this male.

“Thanks for the distraction.” I salute him, turning to leave. “Till next time.”

He grabs my arm as I pass. “Not so fast.”

“Ayden, let me go,” I demand, trying to yank my arm free.

“There’s something I want to show you.” His grip loosens, but doesn’t release me entirely. “And since you’re on a short leash right now, it’s not a request.”

A falsely sweet smile curls my lips. “There’s the unpredictable terror I’ve come to know and love.”

“It’s worth it. I promise.”

Resigning myself to the knowledge I’m not going to win this one, I give in. “Fine. Lead the way.”

With a devilish grin, he leads me through a side door in the barracks and into the castle. We duck into a hidden hallway tucked behind a tapestry, winding through corridors I’m not surprised exist.

It’s a castle, after all. What kind of castle doesn’t have at least a few hidden passages?

When we emerge, my breath catches in my throat.

We’re standing on the roof of the eastern wing. The ledge is narrow, maybe three feet wide, with a wrought-iron fence lining the edge that I’m not sure would keep me from falling.

Ayden drops down onto the ledge with practiced ease, legs dangling over the side. He pats the spot beside him, inviting me to sit.

I hesitantly oblige, sitting next to him.

The view is breathtaking. The rising sun casts the land in a warm orange glow, igniting the autumn colors covering every inch of the realm.

Reds, yellows, and glimmering golds. It’s like the entire kingdom is on fire with color.

From here, I can see the sprawl of the city beyond the castle, its homes and shops, and the people beginning to stir, stepping into their morning routines.

So small from this height, and yet so significant.

Awe and admiration fill my voice. “The view is beautiful.”

“My father used to bring me up here,” Ayden says. “Told me no one else knew about it and that it would always be our little secret.”

“He didn’t show Rowina?”

“Oh, gods no. She’s terrified of heights.” He chuckles quietly.

I glance sideways at him, then work up the nerve to ask, “What was he like?”

“If you ask my mother, she’d say he was a lot like me.”

“And if I ask you?”

He pauses, his smile softening. “I’d say he was a lot like Aurelius, actually.”

That catches me off guard. “Really?”

“Way more mischievous, though.” Ayden’s eyes grow distant for a moment as memory washes over him. “Ro and I definitely got that from him.”

“Aurelius has his moments of mischief.”

Ayden arches a skeptical brow.

“It’s true,” I insist. “When I was a teenager, we spent years trying to one-up each other. It started when I created a shadow blind and made him walk into a wall face-first. He broke his nose. It was quite funny.”

“I don’t know that he’d agree with that sentiment.”

I shrug, not really caring whether Aurelius found it funny, because I had. And still did. “Looking back, I think maybe he was only playing along to get my attention. He never pushed things further than I did.”

“You don’t say,” Ayden deadpans.

“Whatever,” I mutter. “Do you think that’s why Aurelius was appointed emissary to Prudia?”

“Because you tormented him with pranks for years? I hardly think that’s why your?—”

“That’s not what I meant.” I nudge his shoulder. “Do you think your father requested Aurelius return to Prudia because he saw himself in Aurelius? Wanted to be close in whatever way he could?”

Ayden goes quiet, face contemplative. “It’s possible. He was always treated better than the emissaries from other kingdoms. He definitely spent the most time here.”

“I’d always assumed he spent so much time away because he was avoiding me.”

Ayden shrugs. “Could be both.”

A few minutes pass in silence as we watch the sun climb higher in the morning sky.

“When we lost him, I think I lost a part of myself,” Ayden says, voice low.

“I can relate. My father was everything to me.”

“They say it gets easier with time, but that’s a lie.” Ayden pauses, running a hand through his curls still damp with sweat. “It’s been seven years and I still miss him.”

“It doesn’t get easier,” I agree quietly. “You just get better at carrying it. You find little moments of joy and cling to them for when the moments of grief threaten to consume you.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Those are wise words.”

“It’s just a lesson I’m still learning.” I push a loose auburn curl behind my ear, the breeze threatening to tug it free again.

“Most nights, when I close my eyes, I see my mother take her last breath, or I see Nameah enjoying her final sunset. Sometimes, it’s Julian’s blank stare, or the flames of Nolan’s pyre. ”

“That does get better with time,” he reassures me. “It may take years, and it will never completely go away, but there will come a day when you close your eyes and just see black.”

“I’m not sure I want that.”

He glances at me, puzzled. “Why?”

“Because it feels like forgetting them.”

“Our ghosts don’t want us living in the past, Breyla. Finding peace doesn’t mean you love or miss them any less. It just means the grief learns to live beside everything else.”

“That sounds exhausting,” I joke, but it lands flat.

“It can be.”

“What’s your moment of joy today?” I ask, needing something lighter.

He smirks. “When I pinned you in the training ring. The sight of such a fierce female submitting is quite beautiful.

“Typical male,” I say with a half-hearted eye roll.

“What about yours?”

I don’t even need to think. “This. This moment and view right here.”

“I told you it would be worth it.”