Page 11

Chapter

Ten

Yesterday, Lil warned me to stay away from the princes.

I now found myself in the arms of one.

Off to a great start, Brida .

I stood in absolute silence.

What is wrong with you?

Say something… Anything will do.

Well, maybe not anything .

His eyes traced me from head to toe.

His expression left me questioning if he liked what he saw or if he’d been merely assessing me.

My gaze dropped to my midriff—bare, as per the Court of Reflection’s fashion, an outfit choice Lil had insisted I wear this morning.

Regret washed over me as I crossed my arms, hoping to shield myself.

He finally spoke, his voice low, with a hint of amusement that played at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you often walk around without looking where you’re going?” The question wasn’t unkind, but the slight arch of his brow made me feel like I’d been caught doing something embarrassing.

Thankfully not caught for anything else.

I could see his mouth curve into a smile as he awaited my answer.

My throat tightened, and I forced out words that felt clumsy on my tongue.

“I’m not great with directions.”

He stepped closer, the hint of a smile still playing on his face, and I felt my breath catch.

I’d seen him at dinner, but I hadn’t noticed the shadows shifting in his red and gold eyes—something no doubt tied to the Court of Shadows.

Despite that eerie movement, a spark of amusement made it clear he was enjoying this far more than I was.

A haze of smoke and citrus wrapped around me, rich and intoxicating.

I leaned in on instinct, the desire to take in his scent overwhelming.

But reality snapped back as I noticed the small distance between us, and a wave of heat rushed to my cheeks.

The faint quirk at his mouth deepened into a full, satisfied smile, his eyes gleaming with a knowing glint of triumph, and I silently berated myself for being so transparent.

This is mortifying. I had never wished to disappear more in my life.

He tilted his head, studying me with an unreadable expression, a blend of curiosity and quiet calculation.

It was as if he were dissecting the pieces of me, trying to understand the whole—and I wasn't sure I wanted to know what he might uncover.

His tone was laced with humor, and his eyes still held that glimmer of amusement. “Do you know Scriba Velin?”

Scriba Velin? What had he asked? My mind, distracted by him and the way his hair caught the light, appearing like living flames, scrambled for an answer. “Scriba Velin?” I echoed, trying to stall, though I knew I was failing miserably.

His lips pressed together as he stepped closer again, his grip firm as he caught my wrist, guiding me toward the doorway of the library. I gazed down at where his hand touched me, and followed, too stunned to resist.

“Oh,” I breathed, understanding as I glanced into the library. “Addie.” I let out a small sigh. “Yes, I know her.”

His grip loosened, his expression shifting as though my answer had surprised him. “Addie,” he repeated, as if tasting the name. His eyes searched mine, as if looking for something I couldn’t quite place. “You must know her well to be on a first-name basis.”

His skepticism was evident in the way his brow arched, but there was a hint of something else, too—curiosity, maybe. I smiled at Addie. “I’ve known her all my life.”

His smirk returned, softer this time. “Have you now,” he said, his tone lighter, though his eyes still held that look of calculation. He was a puzzle, a mix of contradictions that left me more confused than before.

Lil’s warning echoed in my mind. Keep a safe distance. But the space between us had all but vanished. I needed to move, to put some space between us, but my feet remained rooted to the spot.

“I should be going,” I mumbled, taking a half step back.

His gaze held steady, almost playful, but his eyes betrayed a sharper interest. ‘What’s your name?

Gods, he’s tall . I eyed him from head to toe. “I’m nobody important,” I murmured, the words feeling small and inadequate.

His lips quirked into a half-smile. “That’s not true,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Everyone here is someone important. Or important to someone.”

Everyone here. Here, the place I wasn't meant to be .

There was something in his tone, a softness that made me feel both seen and exposed at the same time.

His voice wrapped around me, warm and dangerous, and I knew I needed to get out of here.

“Brida,” a voice called, breaking the spell, tightness coiling in my gut.

A large figure appeared at my side, his violet eyes kind and familiar.

“Your Highness,” Marsh said, bowing his head with a grace that spoke of years spent in such company.

The prince’s expression hardened, his lips pressing into a thin line as he stepped back, though his eyes never left mine.

The amusement was gone, replaced by something colder, more guarded.

The golden hues had all but vanished, onyx eyes with living shadows were all that met me now.

Turning to me, Marsh said, “I noticed you weren’t with the group and thought you might have gotten turned around.” His tone was light, but his eyes flicked between me and the prince.

“The dining hall is this way.” He gestured left, and I cursed myself for turning right earlier.

I can’t be trusted to navigate this place.

The tension between Marsh and the prince was palpable, a silent standoff that made the air thick with unspoken words.

I glanced between them, curiosity gnawing at me.

What history lay buried beneath those sharp looks?

Marsh's expression was guarded, but there was a storm simmering behind his eyes. And Dainan—his features, though calm, seemed to flicker with some deeper, restrained emotion. Had they been allies once? Rivals? The kind of relationship that spoke in the language of betrayal or brotherhood? The questions swirled in my mind, each one more unsettling than the last.

“Yes. We wouldn’t want the two of you to be late,” the prince said, his voice icy.

I nodded, eager to escape. “Your Grace,” I managed, though my voice came out far too small. Marsh turned on his heel, striding down the hall, and I moved to follow, my steps hurried and uneven.

But before I could take more than a few strides, the prince’s grip tightened around my wrist, halting me. His gaze found mine, sharp and unrelenting, and the intensity there stole the air from my lungs. For a heartbeat, something flickered in his eyes— an emotion I couldn’t quite place, something raw and magnetic that sent a shiver racing down my spine.

“It was good to meet you, Brida,” he murmured. His voice was low, rich, and unhurried, each syllable settling over me like an unspoken promise. My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard, unsure if I wanted to hold his gaze or tear myself away.

I turned and followed Marsh, but the urge to look back tugged at me, relentless and insistent. I gave in, glancing over my shoulder. The prince was already walking away, his shoulders broad and steady, the book Addie had given him clutched in his hand. Something about the sight lingered, like the echo of a song I couldn’t stop hearing.

???

“So, are you personally responsible for ensuring we all eat three balanced meals a day?” I asked, breaking the silence as we strolled down the hall.

Marsh slipped his hands casually into the pockets of his dark purple suit, the fabric catching the dim light with an understated elegance. He let out a warm, low, easy laugh.

I couldn’t help but smile back, caught in the infectiousness of his amusement. “Not everyone,” he replied, his grin lopsided and teasing. “Only those I have a vested interest in.”

What does that mean? I studied him, unsure how to respond. I opened my mouth to ask but thought better of it, opting for a safer topic. “Marsh…is that your first name?”

He raised an eyebrow. “An odd question.”

“Sorry,” I said, “it’s just…Marsh sounds more like a family name. At least where I’m from.”

“Ah, yes. Escalia.” His eyes found mine, and I saw a spark of recognition. “An odd place,” he mused, his brow furrowing.

You have no idea. “Yes,” I sighed. “You could say that.”

“You’re right, though,” he said, “it’s a family name. We were from marshlands, but that was close to twenty thousand years ago.” He gestured for us to turn a corner. “The Magister finds it amusing, as my family wasn’t courted or selected by either the Court of Reflection or the Eternal Court. The Court of Whispers has nothing to do with marshlands, so he insists on calling me that. He may be the only one who finds it funny,” he added, pushing open the door to the dining hall for me.

The room had changed since last night’s dinner—six long, dark mahogany tables now filled the space, their weathered surfaces beautiful despite the years. The chairs had been replaced by benches that looked as uncomfortable as they were long. To my right, an incredible spread of food awaited, tempting me with the scent of fresh bread.

“Do you like people calling you Marsh, then?” I asked, trying to keep things light.

“I’ve gotten used to it,” he said with a smile. “But if you wish, you can call me Reed.” His tone was casual, but there was a challenge in his eyes.

I tried not to laugh but ended up coughing instead, failing to cover up my reaction. “Your full name is Reed Marsh?” I asked, my voice still choked with amusement.

“The irony is lost on few,” he said, looking down at me, his expression jovial. “I’m still unsure why my parents chose it.” He scratched the back of his head, his eyes narrowing as if debating the mystery all over again.

He leaned in closer, his breath warming my skin. “I believe your friends are over there,” he whispered, nodding toward the main table where Lil and Kad were seated. They looked up as Marsh and I approached, their faces lighting up when they spotted me. I flashed Marsh a quick, grateful smile.

“Thanks, Reed, for escorting me to lunch,” I said, trying out the name. It felt strange on my tongue, like trying to call a wolf by its given name. “I believe it’s clear that I wouldn’t have found my way here and would have died of starvation as a result.”

“That would’ve been a tragedy,” his lips curled upwards.

“Brida Larrow, she lived, she loved, she starved.”

He gave me a small chuckle, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary before he turned to leave.

Does he know? The thought gnawed at me as I watched him walk away. And if he does, why hasn't he said anything?

Kad waved me over, a grin plastered on his face as he motioned to the seat beside him.

“You’re late,” he teased.

“We thought you got lost.”

I forced a smile, slipping into the spot next to him.

“I took the scenic route,” I said, glancing over at Lil, who was already mid-bite.

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, offering me a look indicating she’d want details later.

“Scenic, huh?” Kad’s grin widened as he took another bite.

“And what pray tell did you see?”

“Oh you know…this and that.” I reached for a roll, hoping to shift the conversation.

But as I tore it open, I couldn’t help but replay the encounter with Dainan in my mind.

His eyes, the way he’d looked at me like he was peeling back layers…

“Brida?” Kad asked, and I blinked, realizing I’d been staring at the roll in my hands for far too long.

“I’m okay,” I said, flashing a smile that no doubt looked as forced as it felt.

“Just…thinking.”

“About what?” he pressed, his tone light but concern danced in his eyes.

I hesitated. About the prince who I cannot seem to avoid?

About Marsh knowing more than he lets on?

About Dad… “Just…the Courting,” I said, picking the safest option.

“It’s a lot to take in.”

He nodded, accepting my response without pushing for more, though his expression hinted that he saw through my lie.

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed, his gaze wandering over the room's familiar contours. “But we’ll get through it. Together.”

Lil chimed in, her voice casual as she reached for another dish. “Just remember, we’re all in the same boat. Everyone here is just as nervous as you are.” She winked, though I wasn’t convinced she believed it.

I tore off another piece of the roll as I watched Marsh across the room. Is he waiting for the right moment, or is he…protecting me? The thought was as unsettling as it was reassuring. I’d have to be more careful around him—and Dainan, for that matter.

“Brida,” Lil’s voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back to the table. “You sure you’re good?”

“Yeah,” I said, forcing another smile. “Just, you know, the scenic route.”

Kad chuckled, nudging me with his elbow. “Well, next time, stick with us. It’s safer that way.”

“Right,” I agreed.

I caught Marsh’s eye from across the room. His expression was a mask crafted of tranquility, yet I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that beneath that calm facade, he was concealing something—just as I was.