Page 22 of Ruin of Revenants

I pressed onward, overly conscious of how my simple garments were a sharp contrast to the vibrant colors most of the fae I passed wore. Without the budget for new clothing, I’d have to pray I could lose myself far enough in the capital that Archer’s guards wouldn’t easily hunt me down.

The crowds gradually grew thinner as I moved deeper into Rainsong’s streets and away from the water. I passed more residential dwellings with elaborate gardens surrounding them, like quiet sanctuaries concealed within the chaos of the capital’s heart. Here, more shops were closed for the day, not trying to compete with the nightlife along the water.

I started searching hopefully for a more unassuming inn as twilight settled over the city. Was my hour up? I glanced at the stars, briefly comforted by the thought that the same constellations watched over my loved ones in Everhaven.

Are you stargazing now, Mama?

The ache of grief in my chest was more violent than I’d expected, like a physical blow that stole my breath. I paused in the street, studying the couple across the way who, thankfully, only gave me a passing look of disinterest. I took a few more steps, realizing I’d become faint, my knees wobbling under my own weight.

I need to find food.

Another step. Sweat beaded on my brow and another spasm of pain rocked through me.

I swallowed thickly, panic setting in. This wasn’t grief or hunger. This was too extreme, too awful. Reaching for my well of magic, I confirmed it was still there, a steady thrum of warmth resting in my chest and flowing through my blood. It wasn’t the plague or curse then, either.

The blood bond.

My hope dwindled as my heart raced with each unsteady breath I took.

Archer was right. I squeezed my eyes shut, my illusion of freedom shattering.

I’d have to return to the castle and admit defeat, or this cursed bond would kill us both.

“My lady? Are you all right?” The voice was gentle, if unexpected.

I stiffened and turned to find a guard in Emberglade’s royal uniform approaching me, his brow furrowed with worry. His curly black hair was cut short, though some unruly locks hung near his rich brown eyes. I didn’t recognize him from the hallway, making me wonder when he’d found me—or started following me.

“Forgive me.” He dipped his head deferentially. “His Highness explained that you are his betrothed and might want to explore the wonders of this half of Rainsong, since you grew up on the far end of the Lower District. He asked me to be discreet when following you if you left his quarters, since you’re not used to guards escorting you everywhere, but to ensure your safety. My name is Grey, one of His Highness’s guards.”

My frustration tangled with my relief. I’d never actually “escaped” the castle unnoticed after all, but considering the fact that escape was no longer an option, a guide to take me back was a welcome sight. Each step toward him and back toward the castle lessened the tightness in my chest, easing my breathing.

“I just realized I’ve gone too far and too long without a proper meal in all my excitement,” I offered with a smile that I hoped looked properly embarrassed rather than agonized. The statement was true, although he didn’t know the full story. “Could you please escort me back to the castle? I wandered too much and I’m not sure I could find my way back. Archer must be worried.”

“I know a faster route,” Grey offered, gesturing toward a street shaded by palms and a wall overgrown with tangles of vines.

He led me back through quieter portions of the city, where each fae we passed offered him deferential nods. Back through the castle, passing servants who acknowledged me this time, perhaps thinking I was important given my escort.

“If you want to go out and explore again when the prince is not available, I’d be happy to be your guide next time,” Grey offered with a bow when we reached Archer’s quarters.

“Thank you.” I forced a smile despite the fact that my mind was still reeling with this proof of the blood bond.

When I entered Archer’s quarters, he wasn’t waiting for me like I’d expected. Instead, there was a servant in my guest room, holding a pile of folded clothes and shifting uncertainly on her feet. Her soft blue eyes were muted and shadowed, a contrast to her lovely riot of pink curls.

“I’m to help prepare you for an audience with King Wystan, Princess Isoria,” she said, setting the dress on the bed in order to curtsey.

The title sent a bolt of unease through me, but I figured, even if Archer and I hadn’t exchanged vows yet and no coronation had taken place, it was best to accept it without protest in order to make our deceit convincing.

“What is your name?” I asked, hating how uneasy she looked. It couldn’t have been easy for her with a barbarian like King Wystan on the throne.

“Orchid, Your Highness.”

She hurried to help me out of my clothes and lifted her hand, calling the dirt away from my skin. My eyes widened appreciatively. Clearly, she had earth magic. Then she slipped me into a long, elegant dress the same shade of green as the prince’s eyes. Adorned in ivy and jasmine, it whispered like silk, light and cool against my skin, and ended in a simple train that dragged along the carpet behind me. Orchid handed me a pair of slippers to step into before she spent a few moments circling me and murmuring to herself, using her magic to make tiny alterations until the bodice fit me like a glove and the sheer, airy sleeves stopped at my wrists.

Either she had used her power to craft this dress from ivy and jasmine, or she’d artfully taken products of the earth—such as fabric and thread—and magicked them into this lovely, comfortable piece.

Finally, she plaited my hair in a loose braid that hung past one shoulder, tucking a few jasmine blooms into the strands.

“Thank you,” I said when she’d finished, and her cheeks pinked as her eyes widened.