Chapter Five
E arly morning light had begun to creep over Naohm, and already I was feeling the weight of the day pressing down on me.
Sleep had eluded me last night, so instead of spending the dark hours tossing and turning, I’d hunched over our small table, copying my father’s research onto fresh parchment. Each page was a way of keeping his work alive. Of keeping him alive.
I’d repeated this to myself, blinking in the glow of the everflame lantern next to me. And yet, staring at it now in the golden splash of sunlight, I wasn’t convinced Prince Caelum would read a single word of it.
My stomach churned with doubt—and fury.
Still, I shrugged on my cloak and marched down the hill to find out. The wind tugged at the royal banners as I approached, snapping in the gales like a warning alarm signaling my arrival. I reached the prince’s tent and paused, taking a deep breath.
No guards. No servants to stop me. Just like before.
My body was wound tight like a spring. I was ready for a fight, my words already sharpened and prepared to cut through whatever condescending comment he was going to throw at me next. I gripped the stack of papers tighter, my knuckles turning white. If he mocked this too...well, I wouldn’t be held responsible for what I might say or do.
I pushed through the flaps of the tent, heartbeat in my throat, my mouth already opening to defend myself?—
But the tent was empty.
I stopped, deflating. For a moment, I stood there, dazed. Where was he this early?
The disappointment that followed surprised me, but I shook it off. This was much better. Ideal, actually. I didn’t need to fight with him; I could leave the research and get out of here.
With the prince’s absence, though, I took the opportunity to glance around, taking in everything I hadn’t noticed the first time. I’d expected...well, excess. Clothes strewn about, mounds of picked over food wasted, maybe some empty wine bottles, the kind of mess that screamed extravagance.
But the space was neat. Organized, even. Maps spread across a small table, books stacked with care, and a few candles near them burned down to stubs, as if he’d been up all night reviewing things. It almost appeared studious. Like this was the tent of a man who planned, not someone who lavished in every luxury his title afforded.
So, he might not be overly indulgent; he was still an arse. And a rake.
I would leave my father’s research and pray he could put that obnoxiously sharp mind to use and connect the dots right in front of him in these pages.
I took a few more steps in, my brow furrowing. Even the bed was crisply made—although, surely, not by him. I hadn’t seen servants bustling about, but I must’ve just missed them. He probably didn’t even eat without someone spoon feeding him.
Confident that he’d take a long, unnecessary nap before joining us for the council meeting, I decided his bed was a safe enough spot as any to leave my father’s findings.
Grumbling, I took the last few strides toward it. I glanced down at the neatly copied pages in my hands, hesitating. I knew I had to surrender them to have a chance at this council meeting for anyone to listen, but it felt like handing over a private piece of my life, leaving me open to more ridicule and mockery. And why did it have to be him that reviewed it first?
If they only knew how much my father gave for this information...
It had to be done.
As I placed the pages against the prince’s perfectly fluffed pillow, something else hit me—a scent. I tried to ignore the way it settled in my chest, quickening my heartbeat. It smelled like fresh pine needles and a touch of leather. Clean. Crisp.
And annoyingly good.
I took another breath, my body relaxing. How was it possible for someone so infuriating to smell like this ?
As I pulled my hand away, my fingers brushed against the soft, silken sheets longer than necessary. They did look inviting, which made me scowl even harder.
Hallows be, stop it, Eedy. He’s a prince, what did you think he’d smell like? Swamp water and sulfur?
Yanking my hand away as if the bed would catch fire from my burning gaze, I straightened and hurried back out of the tent. I hadn’t come here to notice how welcoming his damn bed looked or how his scent settled around me like a balm against my fraying edges.
But as I threw aside the tent flaps to leave, I collided hard with something very solid—or rather, someone .
Prince Caelum stood before me, his blond hair disheveled, his brows raised in surprise. He wore leather gloves, and his maroon cloak billowed in the wind, the hem damp from morning dew. The sharp breeze assaulted me with his scent once more—the pine and the leather.
I gritted my teeth. “Where have you been?”
He cocked his head, his expression cool. “I was taking a morning walk along the cliffside,” he said, his tone measured. “Watching the wild sea puts things into perspective. Helps me think. Am I allowed to wander Naohm, or do you disapprove of that as well?”
“Disapprove?” I scoffed, heat rising to my cheeks. “No, of course not. I just—” I hesitated, realizing how accusatory I’d sounded. I didn’t have any business demanding to know the whereabouts of the crown prince of Eyre.
“And why were you in my tent?” he said, eyebrows furrowing.
I straightened, grasping for composure. “I was delivering my father’s research. For you to review. And you weren’t here. Obviously. So, I left it. On your bed. For you.”
Gods, I was rambling. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself.
His lips quirked. My fumbling amused him. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, and my blood galloped through my veins again. I’d come ready to match his wit with my own, and it seemed I was still craving the chance. But as his lips parted to reply, movement behind him caught my eye. A slender figure emerged from the path beyond, her fire-red hair catching the morning light. Recognition struck like a bolt of lightning: the woman who’d snuck from his tent the day before.
The prince’s features smoothed over when he turned and noticed her too. “Ah, Lira,” he said, her name rolling off his tongue with ease, as if they’d known each other far longer than the few days he’d been in Naohm.
My stomach twisted in irritation. He didn’t bother to explain the situation; he didn’t have to. The wide, cocky smile he was bludgeoning me with told me exactly what I needed to know.
“Well, Miss Blackthorn, Lira and I have...things to tend to,” he said. The healer blushed, twirling a red strand with her dainty finger. “I’ll do my best to look at your father’s work afterward.”
“Of course, Your Highness ,” I shot back, snidely. “If you would be so kind as to show up on time for the council meeting later, though, I’m sure we’d all appreciate it.”
I didn’t wait for a response, turning on my heel and marching away. My heart thudded in my chest and red-hot blood churned in my veins.
Fresh air hit me as I wandered back to our cottage, and I inhaled deeply. Better. I didn’t want one molecule of his pompous scent left to linger anywhere near me.
I’d delivered the research. My part was done. Now for the encore.
By the time the council gathered again later that day, I had regained my composure—at least outwardly. Still, my mind spun, weighing every possible outcome of this meeting.
I kept my eyes on the doorway as the others took their seats, and sure enough, Prince Caelum arrived fashionably late once more. Just seeing him made my jaw clench and my blood boil. It made me crush the apathetic mask I’d worn in this room for too long.
Today, I wouldn’t let him control the narrative. The men had done enough talking.
As soon as he’d settled at the head of the table opposite of me, I took my chance to speak before he hijacked the meeting again and drove it right off a pointless cliff.
“Your Highness,” I said, forcing my voice to remain steady as I stood and addressed him. “Did you have a chance to review the research I brought you this morning? I’m very interested to hear your thoughts.”
His blue eyes flicked toward me, the hint of a crease forming between his brows. “Perused it, briefly,” he replied, his tone neutral. “Interesting, but speculative, at best.”
I swallowed the retort of outrage burning on my tongue, my fingers curling like talons to grip the edge of the table. He hadn’t read it properly then. Or worse, he had and didn’t care.
“It’s not speculation,” I said firmly. “It’s based on many rings of study. My father’s work could provide the key to fixing this. Did his markers not align with the disturbances in the maps you received from Councilman Verdane?”
Before Caelum could respond, Baldric’s condescending voice broke in. “I believe the prince has done his due diligence and reviewed your father’s research, as this council has also done in the past. Now, we must move on?—”
My jaw clenched, but Caelum waved a hand, stopping Baldric’s blathering. “There’s no harm in listening ,” he said, his voice light. “She’s clearly getting to a specific point, right?”
The council sputtered; all eyes now fixed on me.
I cleared my throat and smoothed back a few loose strands of hair behind my ears, trying to find a calm spot in my stormy mind. This was my chance—one I rarely got—and I needed to make it count. For myself. For my father’s memory.
“Like my father,” I started, “I believe the ley line is like a river of magic flowing beneath our feet. Therefore, there must be something disrupting the flow. My father’s working theory, before he passed away, was that disturbances in the magic could be caused by onyxwood forests.” I paused, trying to meet their stares with as much confidence as I could muster before continuing. “Perhaps we can look to clear one of these forests and see if it can restore the magic flow in the areas nearby.”
The silence that followed was thick with disbelief. Baldric finally scoffed, shaking his head. “Clear an entire forest, Miss Blackthorn? These forests have been here for centuries. Why would they affect the magic now?”
My thoughts scrambled to recall my father’s notes. One idea was that their roots had grown deeper with time. Another was that the ley lines had shifted to flow under them more regularly. Admittedly, though, my father didn’t have many notes on if the ley lines could move.
I opened my mouth to argue about these possibilities, but Caelum cut in, his attention shifting to the rest of the room. “That’s a thoughtful solution, Miss Blackthorn. I appreciate every suggestion provided on this council, as I cannot possibly put this confounding puzzle together all by myself.”
He was patronizing me, just like he had the other councilmen. But instead of making me feel satisfied with my contribution, I only wanted to strangle him. I lowered myself to my seat, imagining the wondrous sound he might make if there were a storm nearby for me to zap him with.
He started his pacing of the room as he had the last time, working up to deliver the real direction he wanted this meeting to take. “I’ve been thinking on this all night, and I have to wonder if there’s a more direct way to get the answers we need,” he said, leaning against one of the pillars in the room, looking infuriatingly relaxed. “The fae have always been deeply connected to the magic of this land. If something is wrong, they’ll know why.”
The council’s reaction was surprisingly mixed, some nodding in agreement while others looked reluctant to the suggestion.
I stared at him, barely able to keep my frustration in check.
He wanted to venture into Velarune, the realm of the fae? Did he have any idea how dangerous they could be? He was suggesting we throw ourselves at the mercy of creatures who viewed us as inferior and expendable. They had sequestered themselves to the farthest western point in Eyre, and it was best that we left them there, undisturbed. One should not poke a bee’s nest for the fun of it.
“You want to go to the fae for help?” I retorted, surprised at how much outrage I allowed to seep into my voice. “They’re notorious for twisting words and making bargains that will leave you worse off than before.”
Caelum smirked. “Well, it’s better than chopping down a whole innocent forest based on your father’s unproven theories.”
The jab stung, but I held my ground. “Of course you’d say that. Dismissing his work is easier than understanding it.”
Caelum’s grin faltered, his blue eyes narrowing. There was something deeper behind that look than just a grudge—resentment, jealousy? I couldn’t tell.
Baldric cleared his throat, oscillating a worried gaze between me and the prince. “Your Highness, the fae are unpredictable. If you approach them without the proper precautions, you could walk into a dangerous trap.”
“Exactly,” I said sharply, before anyone else could butt in. “You’ve never dealt with the fae. They don’t care about titles or crowns. They care about control and power, and if we go into their realm unprepared, they’ll take advantage of it.”
The room went silent again, the council exchanging uneasy glances.
Caelum, however, wasn’t fazed. In fact, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve met the fae before, haven’t you?” he asked, tilting his head as he studied me. “That’s why you’re so...cautious.”
I hesitated, my heart pounding in my chest. “Yes,” I admitted. “Once. My father and I sought out the fae when we were researching the ley lines. But they never gave us any real information.”
“But...you’re still alive,” he pointed out, eyebrows raised. “And maybe your father just didn’t ask the right questions.”
The council shifted, suddenly more interested. I could feel their gazes slide over me, considering me for the first time as something more than an irritable understudy.
Baldric leaned forward, his tone more thoughtful now. “We do need someone who knows the terrain, someone who has experience if the fae decide to play games.”
Caelum’s smirk faded into a scowl. He didn’t want me coming with him. It was obvious in the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers drummed against the table that he’d come to sit at again.
“She’s hardly the best candidate,” Caelum said through gritted teeth. “She’s against the idea from the start.”
Even though I was horrified by the plan they were trying to put into place, to see the control slipping from the prince’s fingers was the sweetest sight.
“Who else, Your Highness?” Cormac Verdane countered. “You can’t go alone. The fae don’t care about royal decrees or titles. Miss Blackthorn has dealt with them before. It would be foolish not to take advantage of that.”
This whole conversation is foolish.
I clenched my hands in my lap, heart pounding as I tried to keep my face neutral. I just needed to wait long enough for the prince to insist someone else join him, and?—
Caelum stood, his jaw tight. “Fine. We shall leave tomorrow,” he said, not looking in my direction. “And if Miss Blackthorn thinks she can make the journey, she can accompany me as my guide. All in favor?”
Every council member except for me raised their hand.
Without waiting for another word, Caelum gave a curt nod and strode out of the chamber. The decision had been made. The council had their solution. And I was left with no say in the matter.
“Miss Blackthorn,” Baldric said as I sat there stunned, “do not worry about your time away. We’ll make sure the council continues our investigation here while you’re gone. We shall update you upon your return of any decisions made in your absence.”
The rest of them nodded along with tight smiles.
I could barely breathe. The council had just managed to kill two birds with one stone. The prince and I could handle the magical crisis for them, and at the same time, they’d also ensured I was out of the way while they continued with their useless debates on other matters.
My legs were lead as I left the chamber and stepped into the brisk air outside. I didn’t know how to process what had just happened. I was being sent to deal with the fae, something I had only done once, and under my father’s guidance. And for what? So the prince could play explorer in Velarune?
The wind whipped through the courtyard as I walked away from the chamber. I barely felt it. The council had made their decision, but they would not command me to do anything.
My father had taught me: I had a choice, always . And now I had to make it.