Page 77 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain

“Go away!” Rolling over to a cooler spot on the bed, I curl under my blanket.

“I was hoping to accompany you to breakfast,” his silky-smooth baritone says clearly through the wood.

“I’m not going to breakfast,” I yell.

A beat—followed by, “Then I will have breakfast brought to us.”

Furiously, I untangle myself from my sheet and go to the door, throwing it open. “There is no us,” I snarl in Alec’s surprised face before slamming it back into place.

Burrowing back in my covers, I bury my head under a pillow, willing him to go away. I can still sense Alec standing outside, that gentle tug pulling deep in my gut. His sadness and disappointment permeate the air, even through the walls separating us.

My heart squeezes when I finally feel his aura retreating.

I wake again a couple hours later and notice a cart loaded down with food has been left. When I inspect it, the smell of pancakes makes me gag. My furious feet carry me to open the bedroom door. After it’s thrown wide, I return to the cart, grab the handle, and push it into the hall hard enough that it bounces against the opposite wall. I’m about to return to my room when a surprised voice stops me.

“Elly?”

Spinning quickly, I find Kraeston—obviously keeping watch at my door. He was invisible to me in my mission to rid my room of the smell of food. I stop short and tug the ends of my robe closer together. “Kraeston,” I reply shortly.

“You didn’t eat anything?”

“Don’t you have better things to be doing?” Deflecting, I narrow my eyes at him.

The soft expression of Kraseston’s face is at odds with his massive form and wild black hair piled on top of his head. He has the typical Quinndohsi accent and traits of dark eyes and dark brown sun-kissed skin. His complexion is richer than Alec and Locane’s with their mixed heritage. And where the twins are masculine, but polished, Kraeston is more rugged. Burn scars cover his hands, a typical trait of a Fire Wielder.

“You are everyone’s concern right now.”

Few memories of Kraeston are discernible, probably because I was almost always around him at the same times as Alec. But the ones I do have are fond. My dynamic with him was so similar with both of my older brothers.

My tone softens slightly. “I’m fine, Kraeston.”

“I’d be more willing to believe that if you’d eaten something, Princess.” He indicates his head towards the food cart. “Come on,Elly. If you want something else, go get changed, and I’ll take you down to the kitchen. Or I could take you to the little cafe you love so much.”

“You would take me outside of the palace?” I ask surprised.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I didn’t expect to be able to leave. Especially so soon,” I admit.

Kraeston smiles at me and tells me, “You are no prisoner here, Elly.”

“And the king would approve of this outing?” I ask cooly.

Kraeston scowls at me. “Obviously. And since when do you refer to him asthe king?“ he asks, dropping all previous softness to his voice.

“You referred to him as the king,” I shoot back, recalling how Kraeston didn’t use Alec’s name when telling me who I would be brought to.

“Because he is my king. And I felt the need to remind everyone last night of who’s wrath they would face if they breathed a word of what they saw before their memories were wiped.”

We face off for a short moment before I relent. “Going to a cafe sounds wonderful,” I admit. “But there’s a slight problem.”

Kraeston goes to retrieve me a change of clothes from a hibiscus bush in the pool courtyard, and thirty minutes later we are heading through the house towards an exit. We make our way down the staircase into the same wide ground level hall we came through just last night.

It seems like years have passed.

We go through the double doors under the porte cochere where two horses are saddled and waiting. I shoot a scowl at Kraeston. He obviously planned an outing.

“Would you like to walk, jump, or ride?”