Page 17 of Ruin of Revenants

I cleared my throat. “Excuse me.”

I continued to wind a path through the crowd, more males and females bowing and greeting me, asking after my wellbeing, or inviting me to set aside my “drunk” companion and join the festivities.

At last, the crowd began to thin where the street began to rise toward the castle. My muscles screamed for a reprieve, my exhaustion growing by the minute. The death-lover stirred in my arms, blinking and frowning at me.

“Stop scowling,” I said.

“Why are you carrying me?” she demanded, starting to squirm.

“Don’t,” I murmured, lowering my voice. “Everyone thinks you overindulged while partying. You need to look happier.”

“Oh, are you telling me to smile?” She gave me an overly sweet grin before dipping her brows and intensifying her frown.

I repressed my sigh. “Can you walk?”

She blinked. “A little. Possibly more than you.”

I ignored the jab, knowing full well she was probably right. She’d had a short while to rest, while I’d carried her the length of the capital.

“If you take me into the castle, how are you going to keep my identity from your father?” Isoria demanded, keeping close beside me as we left the partying behind. She glanced over her shoulder once, drinking in the sights, before turning away with a grimace.

“He can’t read my thoughts—or those of anyone related to him,” I explained. “Since you’re bonded to me, I assume the same applies to you.”

“You assume?”

“Look, I’m not taking you straight before him. We need to get inside and rest, and then I can think of a plan.”

We approached the short bridge crossing the Bluemist and leading us to the castle gates. Palms and canna lilies grew near the water that flowed through the gardens and wound around the castle. Fragrance from the bougainvillea and jasmine climbing the walls hung heavily in the air. Twinkling candles made everything look ethereal and inviting, but Isoria continued to look unimpressed as the guards opened the doors for me.

The castle interior was austere compared to the outside, all cold stone and minimal decor—at least in the halls we needed to traverse. Other areas still showed my mother’s touch, from the open courtyards full of fragrant flowers and songbirds to the magical portraits that depicted whole stories for viewers to enjoy.

Noticing the curious glances of the servants, I slid my hand into Isoria’s, threading our fingers together. My stomach flipped unpleasantly and I gritted my teeth, hoping my smile was convincing.

The death-lover started to tug her hand away.

“Not a good idea,” I muttered.

By the time we reached my hallway, I was ready to collapse. I paused outside my door, nodding at the guards stationed on either side. “Another busy night,” I offered with a smirk, before opening the door and ushering the death-lover herself inside when Isoria whirled on me. “I’m not staying in your rooms,” she said. She probably hoped to sound fierce, but the quaver in her voice gave her away.

Somehow, this helped me find the humor in a bad situation. I leaned against the wall, the corner of my mouth twitching. “You know, I’m not thrilled about these arrangements either, but annoying you might make up for the agony of tolerating your company.”

She rolled her eyes. “What about the servants’ quarters? Why can’t I stay there and pretend to be a new hire?”

“No one will believe me if I say I’ve brought you on suddenly as a servant. I’ve never bothered with choosing our staff before.”

“What? You want me to pretend to be your lover?” Her nose scrunched with disgust.

Everything in me recoiled at the idea—and, even more, at the other one I’d formulated on our walk. But I didn’t know how else to assure myself that this death-lover would be both able to keep near to me without suspicion and also be protected.

I pushed off the wall, stalking closer to her. “That won’t be enough.” I scanned her head to toe, my jaw tight, before I grimaced. “Unfortunately, we’ll have to introduce you as my betrothed.”

Chapter Ten

Isoria

I crossed my arms, noticing that the action didn’t cause much pain in my abdomen. Apparently the sensation was beginning to wear off, a blessed relief after the agony of the walk here. “That’s the best you can think of?”

Archer scrubbed a hand over his face, like he was absolutely exhausted. Given the conditions I’d found him in and the toll the effects of healing would have had on his body, I imagined he had to be. “It’s the best way to keep us close to each other and ensure your protection. No one will question why you’re in my quarters, and no one in their right mind would threaten you. Even my own father would have to consider the political ramifications of going against his heir’s bride.”