Page 34 of The Shattered King

I did not want to see the prince the following morning.

Could not bring myself to do it. Thoughts of him weighed down my heart and made my fingers tremble, so I sat on my bed in my tiny room, turning the agate pendant over in my hands, staring out the window as the sun rose.

The day lacked clouds, and it was not a beautiful sunrise.

“ Nym, ” Ursa said softly. “ If you just— ”

“I said I don’t want to discuss it.” I sucked in as much air as my lungs could hold, as if doing so would alleviate this concave feeling in my chest. I’d already dowsed into myself but found nothing to repair.

I wanted to think of anything else, but my days were filled with Prince Renn Reshua Noblewight.

I had to think about him. Be close to him. Touch him.

I laughed, pretending it didn’t sound dry and false. “It’s cute, in a way.”

“ Are we talking about it, then? ”

“He’s just like a little brother.” I picked up my comb and forced it too roughly through my hair.

“ Brien doesn’t hold your hand, Nym. ”

I picked at a knot. “I was thinking more like Heath or Terrence.”

“ He’s Brien’s age. ”

“I know how old he is!” I barked, flinging the comb against the wall. I winced, then crossed over to it, hoping I hadn’t broken it. Sighed when I saw I’d only snapped one outer tooth; the comb would still work fine. “I’m merely pointing out that he’s too young.”

“ Three years isn’t— ”

“Four, Ursa. And this is what I will not talk about.” I dropped the comb on my bed and started roughly braiding my hair. “You’re not here . You don’t understand.”

“ I understand you plenty, Nym. Better than anyone. ”

I shook my head. “He’s just desperate for attention.

He hasn’t had enough time to get to know other nobles.

It’s nothing more than that. He accidentally touched my hand in the woods.

It’s nothing. I’m letting it go, and so should you.

You know I will never ... I will never , Ursa.

Not again. Even if he was a local farmer and not .

.. what he is.” I tugged a tie around the end of my braid.

“But it doesn’t matter. It’s one sided. I only want to finish the work and go home. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

She did not respond.

Lying back on my bed, I entered my lumis and knelt beside one of the dark crenellations, trying to re-create one of its blocks with pure magic, as I had done with Renn’s orbs.

I found I could change the shape of the spinning magic, which put me in mind of clay on a potter’s wheel.

But, like before, the magic snapped from being just as I finished the molding.

Ursa had no additional thoughts on it. I didn’t think she’d want to brainstorm further with me, at the moment.

I tried to read, but my mind couldn’t focus, and Renn had given me these books, which only brought uncomfortable thoughts of him to my mind.

The sun was fully up when I told myself I was being childish and went to the prince’s suite.

I wore the necklace, but under my bodice.

Agate was not the most precious of stones, but my door had no lock, and I didn’t want to risk it being stolen.

I still meant to obtain a longer cord for it, so it did not hang directly over my heart, but my means for procuring one were limited.

I did not want to ask Renn and risk insulting his gift, nor did I want to humiliate myself by explaining my reasoning.

I would have to ask the favor of Lonnie.

I met Sten in the hallway; he appeared to be looking for me, but did not comment on my tardiness.

In the salon, Renn was already dressed for the day, again in the black and red colors of his house, hair combed and face clean, looking every inch a prince.

He even had a silver cuff on one of his ears.

He sat in the farthest chair from the door, the closest to his room, one foot propped up on the short table, a new book in his hands. He lowered it when I entered. Leaned forward as though to stand, but didn’t. “Are you unwell?”

He thought sickness the reason for my tardiness. “I’m a healer.” I shrugged. “I’m never unwell.”

Not true, but he didn’t contest it. I crossed the room to him. “Are you unwell?”

He touched his chest. “Only a little,” he confessed, so I stepped behind him and gently, so carefully, touched him behind his ears.

I was more than happy to dowse; it took me away from the room and gave me something to focus on.

Two of his baubles had cracked, so I soothed them, and I spent the rest of the morning gathering the last of the dust and slowly, meticulously, melting it down and blowing life into it again, careful not to strain myself.

In the early afternoon one of the palace physicians—notably not Whitestone—arrived, asking if he could do an exam on the prince, per request of the queen. Renn immediately stiffened, mask up, and nodded. He hated strangers touching him.

I wondered how long it had taken for him to stop hating me touching him, too.

I excused myself to the hallway, sitting on the stone floor and laying my head back against a tapestry of a hart, closing my eyes to rest. The physician took nearly an hour to leave, and when I returned, I went straight back to dowsing. Not to escape, or so I told myself, but because it was my job.

Renn asked if I would like him to request dinner on my behalf, but I turned him down and ate with the servants, listening to Lonnie talk about her day in that animated way of hers.

I healed a burn on Cook’s finger. It took me only seconds to recount my own day: I’d dowsed into the prince.

Simple, boring, unmonumental. Just the way I wanted it to be.

The next day was much the same, though I arrived on time.

The prince was dressing, so I waited for him in the salon, picking at a loose stitch on my collar.

He smiled when he saw me, and I offered a small smile back, but I kept our conversation short and, again, spent the day dowsing into him, replaying the woods in my mind, truly wondering if it had just been an accident, and very desperately wanting it to be.

I ate with Lonnie and the others again—the tension caused by rumors over my lumis had ebbed, at least with this group, and I rarely witnessed any overt avoidance or ostracism from my peers.

Kilg whispered something to Lonnie that made her blush, and I wondered after it, though I didn’t think I’d get an opportunity to ask until we bathed together.

I decided to fit that back into my schedule.

It really wasn’t necessary, nor appropriate, to ask others to bring me a tub when everyone else came to the same bathing room to take care of their cleanliness. I could do the same.

The sun was nearly set when I returned to my room, stiff and tired from dowsing with few breaks.

I rubbed my neck, easing the tension there, and considered not for the first time cutting off my hair, because its heavy curls were often cumbersome, but though I did not straighten it into the look popular with nobles, it was a vanity of mine, so I figured I would dowse into myself and then fall asleep.

When I opened my door, however, a lantern on the floor illuminated the silhouette of a man on my bed.

I gasped, blood cold, and backstepped out of the room. The man lifted his face.

“I will neither punish nor proposition you,” Prince Adrinn’s voice rasped. “Heal me, and I’ll be on my way.”

I hesitated, staring at him, noting how hunched over he was, one arm draped across his middle.

Stepping into the room, I asked, “What happened?”

“Close the door.”

I did, but left a crack open between the knob and its latch.

“It doesn’t matter what happened,” he growled. “I just need you to fix it.”

“Whitestone is more than capable.”

He glowered at me. “Is that how it is, then? What do you want? Hm? Money? An apology ?” He snapped the last word like a curse.

I considered. “I want you to swear on your own head, under the eyes of the gods, that you will never touch nor talk to me again.”

He winced, a slivered moment of humility. “As far as I am able, I swear it. Just do it, please.”

His word was enough for me. I came over to him, moving the lamp so it would be within my easy reach should Prince Adrinn prove an oathbreaker as well as a cad.

I’d have something to swing at his head, in that case.

Hunched as he was, I put my fingertips on his temples instead of his jaw and slipped into his lumis.

His was an interesting portrayal, one I’d not seen before.

Within the confines of Prince Adrinn’s lumis was a menagerie of sorts, sterling silver cages of all shapes and sizes, some hanging, some standing, some on pedestals.

They appeared empty at first, but as I stepped closer, I could see ethereal, almost ghostly forms inside each one.

They did not look like normal animals did, only had a likeness of them, enough so I could tell they were fauna.

His death lines congregated around one spot, a larger cage that appeared to have been crushed, as though an anvil had dropped on it from above, forcing the door open.

If left untreated, his injury would kill him, I was sure, but even Whitestone’s administrations would keep him alive. They’d simply take longer.

I moved quietly between the cages, footsteps light, until I caught sight of a large rabbitlike shimmer.

Crouching down, I tried to coerce it toward me, but it ignored me, so pulling on my magic, I crafted a leash of light between my hands, looped it, and tossed it around the creature’s neck.

It didn’t try to escape, but allowed me to guide it back to its cage.