Page 14

Chapter fourteen

Under the Mountain

I skipped after the Shade, unwilling to be left behind in the greenhouse. Spyring pieces quickly piled up along the corridor as the animals worked together to drag the remnants down the hall. I turned away from the carnage with a shudder. The Shade swept with unnatural grace down the stairs and across the tile. The shadows bounced after him like bubbles down a stream. I couldn’t tell if the smooth motion was his natural bearing or an illusion from the shadows that swirled about his feet. His leather shoes were silent. Perhaps the shadows dampened that as well. Even my silk dress and soft slippers made more sound than him, which, after years of court training, felt decidedly unfeminine. I willed my legs to step more smoothly, but it took so much effort that it slowed me down.

It was hopeless. He was magic. I quit and caught up just behind the Shade. “Will there be another attack?”

“Hmm?” He slowed and looked back at me. “Oh. Not from the spyrings. Not today, at least, and not from there. But moonlight knows, they show up when they want to.”

“Where do they come from?” I asked as he led us down the hall and back to the central kitchen .

Grabbing a piece of bread and a slice of cheese from a tray, he turned and leaned back against the counter. “Below.” He offered me the oily bread, which I took hesitantly.

“Down the mountain?”

Tapping his fingers on another roll, he answered, “Under it.”

“Under the mountain?” I blinked. “Did you build your house on their nest?”

He raised a brow. “When I made my home, there were no monsters but me and mine.”

“Hmm.” I bit into the oily bread, the mixed-in cheese and herbs were warm and gooey, wholly distracting me for a moment. I missed Chef. Looking outside at the late afternoon sun, I asked, “So where do the monsters come from, really?”

He hummed in a noncommittal way. “The king’s mines scrape at the center of the earth. He found more than just luz ore. The monsters of the deep are swarming and irritable.”

“The prince has only one mine . We are rich in luz. The castle is full of it. The tower light shines brightly.”

“The prince has a great many secrets that he doesn’t share with the populace.” The Shade filled a glass of water and set it before me; I felt a spark when our hands touched. “Or with nobles’ daughters.”

“I was an herbalist apprentice. Surely, I would have heard something about this since we add various ores and minerals to the plants we gather.”

The Shade shook his head. “Not even then.”

I felt unmoored and rattled off a pathetic chorus. “The prince and king lead the nation with light and hope.” My voice deadened as I recalled the prince’s eyes, begging for my sacrifice.

The Shade came toward me—one step, then two—crowding me back against the island counter. “Yes,” he spat out. “Your arrival was certainly full of light.” His nostrils flared, and the shadows flickered around him, darkness swirling within his irises. “And you were bleeding from all the hope he gave you.” The mark on my neck flared with heat, and I touched it with one hand, wrapping the other hand across my waist protectively.

I shook my head, though I wasn’t sure what I disagreed with. My eyes prickled at the rebuke. The prince had once been my friend. He had visited me. He had cared for me. He had betrayed me.

The Shade scratched at his leather bracelet. “He betrayed us all.”

My heart ached suddenly with a stabbing pain. The Shade glanced down before stepping back, rubbing a button of his shirt. “The prince is searching for things that the mountain cannot give. And he grows desperate. Rather, the king regent grows desperate.”

I grabbed his glass and cleaned it in the sink, willing my hands to stop shaking. He might be less desperate if the Shade didn’t fight him constantly.

The Shade’s quiet scoff caused me to turn. “The prince fights himself and cannot clean up the messes he makes. He fears to fight the battles he must. And so the mountain itself turns against him.” Grabbing the glass from my hand, he took the rag as well. “You do not need to clean.”

“I need to do something. I’m here to help. You saved my life, so let me repay you.”

“The greenhouse will not be enough?”

“Perhaps I can do laundry.”

“The creatures have things well in hand.”

I tapped a toe, wondering if I should risk asking. “Then…I can help make those potion bombs.”

He tilted his head. “Perhaps.” His eyes squinted, peering between thick black lashes. “But what if you did nothing? ”

“If I do nothing, then I am nothing.” I parroted as I tried to smile. “My father called me Able Aelia.”

His jaw muscles feathered as he glared at me, his slow gaze judging, measuring as it perused my person. I felt more naked now than I had in the bath.

“That’s stupid.” My mouth popped open in offense and outrage, but he held up a hand to stop me. “ You are not stupid. But that phrase, that is stupid.” He paced back to add a log to the fireplace. “It implies that to rest is not valuable, that it’s nothing. But that would mean that the sick and disabled are nothing. That the elderly are nothing.” He eyed me. “That the queen is nothing.”

I squeaked in outrage. “Of course, she is something!” Defense for my queen rose within me. “Just because they cannot do something extravagant right now doesn’t mean they are worth nothing.”

“But this same logic doesn’t apply to you?”

My mouth opened and shut, but no brilliant counterargument surfaced.

“Let me ask you something else. If I asked you to scrub the toilets—you would say…”

I felt relief. “Yes. I would be honored to serve the Shade.”

“And if I asked you to care for the wolves.”

I hesitated a bit longer. “I’d say yes and hope they don’t eat me.”

He chuckled darkly, and I wondered if they might accidentally eat me. “And if I asked you to flap your arms and squawk like a dragonling, you’d say…”

I bit my lip, my cheeks heating at the image. “If it would please the Shade, I’d say yes.”

The Shade mumbled something under his breath and stepped away, toward the threshold of the room, before stopping again, agitated. His shadows enveloped me. His piney scent filled my lungs. His presence flooded out all thought. His murmured voice, low and quiet, sent vibrations through my heart. “I’m grateful, at least, that when you finally ran—despite this idiotic saying and the training of your youth—you showed discernment. You showed everyone you are worth something, worth more than some sacrifice determined by an old crone. That you don’t have to please the world to earn your place. That saying no is the first step to a full and joyful yes. None of those things I just asked of you would bring you fulfillment. Nothing you have ever shared with me has been what Aelia wants or needs or hopes for. That’s a problem.”

The Shade stepped out, unnaturally smooth again, but as he turned the corner, a slight limp became evident on his left side. I hardly noticed it in my emotional turmoil. I was outraged at the audacity. I was offended that he thought I was a doormat. But deep within, I was horrified because I suspected he was right.

If I truly believed my own words, that I was a tool for the crown, an able servant willing to do anything for my prince, then I would have died that day. I would have willingly stepped forward with the love of my kingdom in my eyes, placing my head on that platter enthusiastically. Instead, I stepped back. And I had run. I had said no. And I hadn’t returned.

I threw the rag I had been wringing by the wash basin and stalked down the hall. Daytime animals scurried along the walls. Rats, crows, and an enormous spotted cat sunbathed on a windowsill, but I passed them all in a huff.

Of course, I was worth something. I believed that. I was excellent at finding herbs. I made excellent potions for the queen. I could bake with the best. I—I was still listing things I could do . Alright, reframing. I was worth something because…I was nice and looked out for the needs of others .

A whisper came unbidden within me. “But what about your own needs?”

I laughed awkwardly under my breath. The question shouldn’t have been funny, but it was. What needs? What did I really need? Food, bed, clothes?

The whisper corrected the list. “Affection, love, safety.”

My eyes pricked with tears again. A tiny seed in my heart sent a tendril of a root—fragile but present. Maybe I wanted more than I’d been given. I felt ungrateful, a traitor to my upbringing, my kingdom, and my father.

Again, a deep whisper—so deep it rumbled in my bones—spoke . “Betray yourself, and you lose everything. First, be true to yourself.” I turned to look for the Shade, but he was nowhere nearby. Perhaps my inner voice now sounded like him. It spoke again, “ You must love yourself first, before you can overflow to others.”

I paused, then wondered to the voice, “ And do you love yourself?”

A grumbling sigh filled my mind and chest. “ Some days are easier than others, Dayspring.”

I knew it. I could hear his thoughts. More frighteningly, he could hear mine.

Awareness that wasn’t my own brightened within me. “I will never betray you.”

“You already have,” I muttered. “My mind is my own, and you’re in it.”

The Shade chuckled from wherever he was hiding . “Your mind became mine the moment we kissed. I will safeguard it. I will treasure it. I will respect it and stay silent if you wish. But you came to me, and now, you are mine. ”

Crying out in frustration, I stormed into my room and shut and locked the door, willing the door and the distance to spare me his intrusion.

I was no one’s. I was not property. My mind could not be owned. But keeping my thoughts away from my heart was more challenging than I expected. Deep down, a quiet part of me reveled in the sensation of being wanted. When the Shade said mine, I didn’t feel owned or betrayed. It had felt…like I’d returned home. Like my mother’s kiss on my cheek. Her hand sweeping my hair from my eyes or behind my ear. Her lullabies. The safety of the hearth after dinner. Chef’s sweet embrace. The pressure of the queen’s hand on mine.

Safety. Warmth. Being wanted. None of these things were like the Shade—the dark, malicious, sinister, evil…

“ Vile, ” he supplied.

Yes, vile Shade. I changed into night clothes and shoved myself into bed. Perhaps the Shade couldn’t follow me into dreams. Perhaps I wanted him to. Perhaps I should stop thinking about him.

As I drifted off, I heard him again, amusement thick in his voice. “Just rest, Aelia. We will practice. And meanwhile, until you find your footing, I will keep you safe.”

And again, like an idiot, I believed him.