Page 114 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain

I run to the door and throw it open. “Sorry. I thought you were your brother.”

“I heard. No worries, Elly. Come, I’m taking you out.”

“Why?”

“Because you are shutting yourself in again and you’re getting manic,” Cescily answers honestly. I glare at her. “Please? Whatever you want to do.”

“You’re sure your brother will allow it?” I ask her unfairly.

“I don’t care what he thinks.”

“Anything I want?”

“Anything.”

“Let’s go get drunk.” Striding to my exposed wardrobe, I pull off my dirty training clothes. I exchange them for a light blue dress made of multiple layers of sheer fabric that swishes against my legs, the neckline plunging deep between my breasts.

I pull on my new knee-high boots of soft brown leather. They lace from the ankle all the way up to the knee. They’re magicked to feel like you’re padding across soft spring grass and allow me to channel energy from the earth while wearing them as if I was barefoot. They cost as much as a small house, but Cescily insisted I get them. She kept reminding me that between my king father and my king mate, I’m one of the wealthiest women on the Continent.

I do love them.

Using my fingers, I fluff my lilac hair in the mirror once and turn to Cescily. “I’m ready.”

Her eyebrows are in her hairline, but she says nothing when she grabs my hand and we fade into darkness, reappearing on a busy street, still in the Vahnsing District. The silhouette of the palace looms behind us.

“There’s a tasteful wine bar over here. I like to come here when I need something a little more low key.” Cescily smiles at me and squeezes my hand in hers, warm and reassuring, before leading the way.

We enter into a small establishment with dark wood floors and tarnished mirrored walls. A large crystal chandelier hangs in the center of the room. The ambiance is not in the traditional style of The Capital and reminds me more of something you would find in Crane Hills of Brhadir. The bar is mostly empty and we take a small table in the corner. Cescily orders a sampler for both of us and we wait.

She watches me with a guarded face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

The waiter brings our drinks and I throw back the first two, not bothering to smell or taste or whatever the Mother fuck you are supposed to do with wine.

“You’re not doing well,” Cescily says gently.

“I am just fine.”

“I know that you and Alec had an intense conversation. Would you like to talk about it?”

I throw back another glass, a perfect mixture of bitter and sweet, and signal for more. An intense alcohol soaked buzz is already flowing through me.

When the waiter comes back with my second sampler, Cescily kindly says to him, “Can we get whatever appetizer you have that is prepared the quickest?”

“I’m not hungry.” My words are slurred. “And no, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Cescily sighs and holds my hand. “That was a stupid question. I know you don’t want to talk about it, Elly. But youneedto.”

My pale hand reaches for another glass of wine, but she pulls the tray away from me.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I don’t want you to say anything in particular, Elly. I want you to say what’s on your mind—what’s on your heart.” She squeezes my hand in hers. “Please, I love you, and I want to help you. In whatever way I can.”

I worry my lip and shake my head, unable to find any words.

“It is cruel. All that time and effort and love decimated over greed and selfishness. By someone who Alec loves and cherishes nearly as much as you. And the fact that your captor wears the same face as the man you’re destined to spend your life with is beyond cruel. It is well and truly fucked.”