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And Jamic?
That amulet still hung around his neck, until it could be removed under the supervision of a healer.
Galon had allowed him to ride his own horse, but he was keeping a close eye on him. Jamic pretended not to notice, but I knew better. He noticed everything. He’d stared hungrily at the clouds, the trees, the horses, the small villages we’d passed…and I couldn’t blame him.
Lorian had made it clear he didn’t want me anywhere near Jamic. When he’d told me about the fae guard Jamic had killed, I’d understood. Still, I couldn’t help but offer a smile to Jamic whenever he glanced my way.
He’d been locked away for two years. Lorian had told me all about where he’d been kept—suffocated by fae iron and yet forced to hold Regner’s stolen magic. It was surprising he hadn’t gone insane. And I knew Galon was watching Jamic for any signs of him teetering over that edge.
A couple of days ago, Jamic had quietly asked me why we were bothering to be nice to him. He’d assumed we would attempt to slit his throat to bring down the barrier. The way Regner would have.
I’d stared at him, speechless. Finally, I’d assured him that we were hoping he would voluntarily join with us to bring the barrier down. But we would never hurt him.
He hadn’t seemed fully convinced. Given the way he’d grown up, I didn’t blame him.
My horse pricked her ears. Somewhere, someone started singing. Someone else joined her, and I basked in the simple joy of a normal day.
Aranthon was so…open. Our horses clopped down the warded cobblestones, and I could feel Lorian watching me as I surveyed the city. The buildings lining the street were so vastly different from anything I’d seen in my village—or anywhere in either Gromalia or Eprotha—that I found myself staring.
The fae here didn’t seem to value privacy at the expense of enjoying the sun or the salt-soaked breeze. Large, stately homes relied on pillars, rather than full walls. My gaze clung to the fae who strolled in groups along breezeways connecting the buildings above and the cobbled walkways winding between them below. The breeze shifted toward us, carrying the sounds of laughter.
Emerald vines curled around the slender columns supporting arched rooftops, but I caught glimpses of sprawling atrium gardens within central open spaces of the buildings.
Along the walkways, artisans plied their trades in jewel-hued stalls bedecked with silk awnings. Fountains burbled at intervals along the street, but within the buildings, I occasionally spotted larger waterfalls and streams trickling through beds of lilies and moss.
“Do you like it?” Lorian asked.
He was still watching me, as if memorizing my reaction. “It’s incredible. You grew up here?”
“Until I was nine winters.”
The thought of just how young he’d been when he’d been removed from this city soured my thoughts. He just shook his head at me. “I’m glad you like it.”
I studied him. Since we’d arrived, some of the tension had left his face. His eyes were warm, and he looked more relaxed than I’d seen him since before we’d traveled to find my hourglass.
“You love this city,” I said.
He gave me a faint smile, turning his head as Galon called to him. Did Lorian even realize he loved Aranthon? Or had he convinced himself he didn’t want to be here in an effort to make it easier on himself when Conreth ensured he spent most of his life elsewhere?
I’d spent the long days on horseback considering the seer’s prophecy and studying the clouds. What did it mean if they were unnatural? Was it a shape? A color?
Reflection deceives seemed to have something to do with mirrors. Lorian would likely think I was crazy if I had them removed from our rooms.
That was the problem with prophecies. They could make you mad.
Lorian had been surprisingly patient. Likely, it was because he knew I’d promised to tell him—although I wondered how much of it was him indulging me after he’d kept our mating from me.
That mating seemed to become stronger every day. The strange awareness I’d always had around him had become deeper, until I could immediately tell if he’d entered a room. Gone were the days when I struggled to know what he was thinking behind his indifferent mask. Now, I felt like I knew him on a soul-deep level.
Guards bowed to him at the castle gates, immediately opening them for us as we made our way into the courtyard.
We were traveling light, and the moment we dismounted, our belongings disappeared. I jolted, and Lorian pressed his hand against my lower back. “Our bags have been placed in our rooms.”
Conreth strolled out of the castle, dressed in an icy blue that matched his eyes. He was wearing his crown, and it glittered in the sunlight. Did he find it heavy? Or perhaps he wore it often enough that his neck muscles had compensated for its weight.
His gaze immediately caught on the amulet around Jamic’s neck and lingered there for a long moment.
“Ah, a personalized greeting from my brother,” Lorian said. “What an honor.”
