Page 30 of The Shattered King

His countenance fell a hair before he caught it. “Well ... yes. Adrinn and Father are at more risk than I am. But given my ... situation ... that’s why I stopped going into the city. But it’s been a long time, and I’m far more capable now. We’ll go soon, Nym.”

I nodded dumbly. Verdanian asked him a question about shoulder pads, so I withdrew into myself, thinking. Considering the utter brokenness of Renn’s lumis and the lack of death’s colors there—colors that clouded the entirety of mine.

I wondered if the young prince of Cansere was simply difficult to kill.

The measurements and talk of cloth took a long time, far longer than Talla, the castle seamstress, had taken with me before bringing my new dresses.

It took so much time that, peering into the mirror, Renn looked at me and told me I could read a book, so I did.

But my heart wasn’t into the story, so I closed my eyes for a moment.

Despite my weariness from the night before, I only dozed, never truly slept.

I was afraid, and I wasn’t certain why.

Talla brought me two dresses to try on, for a party was apparently different than court, and even if I were lingering in the shadows, I needed to fit in.

I stated I could wear livery, but Talla said I would be mistaken for the help, and thus partygoers might make requests of me, thus preventing me from tending to His Highness.

She had a point there. The dresses were not the fine drapings of nobility, but something a wealthy merchantess might wear, and I picked the more muted of the two, a sage-green dress with a slim overskirt, roughly my size.

Talla had to let out the bust and add a panel so I would not be “tantalizing passersby,” as she put it, but it was a nice dress. The nicest I’d ever worn.

I wondered what my mother would think, seeing me in a dress like this. In a small, strange way, it almost felt like a betrayal. Yet I reminded myself I was still only a shadow; I would not be mingling with the nobility itself, and I highly doubted Lord Fell had been invited to the event.

Renn’s birthday party took place on his name day, a few days into fall, when the aspen forests around Rove began to turn shades of gold and yellow, their leaves turning in the breeze like tossed coins.

They made such a lovely sight, and I wanted so badly to walk among the white trunks, to touch those leaves with my fingers.

I had described them as best I could in my letter to my family.

If I can get out there, I will pick a few for you. Something to connect us while we wait.

I reminded Lissel to update the hive records and ensure the bees would have enough food stores for the upcoming winter.

There had been no word yet from Brien, but no word meant he was alive.

The captains and generals of the army were not so cruel as to forbid families closure, and burial, when a loved one passed.

I prayed the threat of war died before Dan came of drafting age.

At the party, I stood across from the depiction of the phoenix, which made me think of Sesta’s symbolic dragon, the symbol of Adoel Nicosia.

That placed the ongoing hostilities heavily on my mind during the party, which soured my mood.

Here the Noblewights and their lords and ladies danced in elegant gowns and ate expensive food, as though there were no battles for land or whatever it was Adoel Nicosia wanted in the north.

They were unaffected, while their people abandoned their homes and families and fought on their behalf.

Fifteen pieces of silver, I thought bitterly.

That’s what Lord Fell thought my family was worth, so why would his ilk value commoners any more than that?

Renn did not dance. He did not know how to, though his mother had sent him a tutor the week before the event.

He simply did not want to, even if he could perform a waltz well enough.

Fortunately, the excuse “Forgive me, but I’ve not yet learned” worked well on most, and, per my suggestion, “My healer has forbidden it for the night” worked on the rest.

Princess Eden was in attendance, lovely in a simple cream gown, hair flattened until it looked like a sheet of bronze, but Prince Adrinn was not, and I did not care to ask why he missed the first public event held in his brother’s name.

Renn stepped out of the room once for air; he returned before I could wind the perimeter of the Great Hall, where the event was held, and check on him.

He looked tired near the end of it, but that was natural party fatigue, and nothing that greatly worried me.

His relapses came on suddenly; they wouldn’t give me warning.

The event went smoothly, ending shortly after midnight.

Princess Eden spared Renn the task of standing at the castle gate and wishing the invitees well as they left for the night, so he, his guards Sall and Bay, and I retreated to his suite.

Sall took up his post outside Renn’s door, and Bay took up one just inside it.

Renn dropped onto the couch, brushing hair from his eyes. “That was two hours too long.”

“Are you hurting anywhere?” I came up behind him.

“My feet, my shoulders, but that’s normal. I think.”

I waited for him to lean back. When he did, I touched him just under his ears and slipped into his lumis, silently thanking it for not splintering during the celebration.

I tidied things, retied and fortified strings and ribbon, and took a few minutes to sift through the pile again, until I found two more scraps I could fit together.

Renn must have sensed when I returned to myself, for he twisted around to look at me over the sofa a beat after I did.

“We’re only three years apart now, aren’t we?” he asked, the yellow candlelight in his salon coloring his eyes green.

“Until winter,” I said.

He leaned into the backrest. “It’s past midnight. That means my birthday is over, and you never got me a gift.”

I snorted. He’d said it in jest, but I retaliated anyway.

“I give you legs to walk and lungs to breathe, Your Highness . I think that enough.” I pulled out the ribbon Talla had given me to hold back my hair, and rubbed the space behind my ears where it had lain.

“What else could I possibly get you? Another guard? I don’t make a wage, besides. ”

The mirth fell from his features. “What?”

I folded the ribbon in my hands and quipped, “Do you want a ribbon?”

“You’re not paid?” he clarified. “Everyone is paid. Bay is paid.” He jerked a thumb toward the guard, who did not react.

I studied him, testing to see if he was in earnest. “I ... thought you aware.”

“But ... I thought you were paid. How else did you get that dress?” He gestured to me, his eyes pausing on my chest before lifting to my face. The glance made me overly warm.

I cleared my throat. “The seamstress gave it to me. I imagine I’ll need to return it in the morning.”

“Keep it.”

“It isn’t mine,” I pressed.

“You’ll keep it.” He turned away, stood. Stretched his back before facing me. Didn’t look at me. “Nym ...”

“Hm?”

He glanced at Bay, then at the candles. “Do you ... want to leave?”

The question froze my tongue.

Yes, my mind hollered, and yet as I lingered with it, a distinct no sounded farther back, in a recess or corner I dared not investigate. He waited for my response, meeting my eyes. His mask was faltering. He looked ... sad.

It took me too long to formulate an answer I felt settled with. “If I could take you to Fount with me, to finish our work, I would. I want to see you well again. Truly. But ... I very much want to go home. I did not prepare myself for a long stay here, and neither did my siblings.”

Shoulders slumped, he nodded.

“I do want to see this through, Renn. Your Highness,” I added.

“Please.” He ran a hand back through his hair. “I’ve been ‘Your-Highnessed’ all night. I don’t need it from you, too.” He sighed. “Well. It’s near enough to your birthday. What do you want?”

I unfolded and refolded the ribbon. “The dress is more than enough.”

“What do you want, Nym?”

I tilted my head to the side, watching him watch me.

His eyes were doing that thing again, where they seemed two shades away from burning like the flame at the base of a candlewick.

His expression ... I saw as many emotions seeping through the cracks of his mask as I saw colors in his lumis.

Fatigue, guilt, hope ... and something else I was surely mistaken on and dismissed before it could fully formulate in my brain.

“I want to go into the city with you, now that the celebrations are over,” I admitted. “I want to walk in the aspen forests before the trees lose their leaves.”

“Done.” He snapped his fingers. Easy as that. “We’ll go tomorrow.”

Hope flickered in my chest. I tamped it down. “You should rest tomorrow.”

“I’m fine.”

Flicker, flicker, flicker. But I could not be selfish. Not with the trees, and not with his time. “Your healer demands it.” But I offered him a smile before heading toward the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He looked at me a moment, just a little too long to be comfortable, before coming to himself. “Yes, tomorrow. Good night, Nym.”