‘What d’you mean?’ I ask, without looking up.
‘Well, he’s the most dangerous Etheri in the realm. That goes without saying. Not to mention sadistic – and cruel. But he’s also confusingly … charming.Terrifying, but charming. Like you’re not sure whether he’s planning to kill you or kiss you. It’s exhilarating.’
‘It’s easy to see why the Eyes fawn over him,’ says Zephyr. ‘The other courts are warier, of course. Most are afraid of him, many despise him, but they wouldn’t dare show it. He’s already treated as though he were a king.’
I frown at my empty plate. I am reviled for summoning that storm, meanwhile, despite literally breaking the empire apart, Fox has somehow amassed a legion of admirers? Charm or no charm, that hardly seems fair. Nor does it seem fair that he is permitted to travel the world as he pleases, and I was locked away for seventeen years. I suppose being an emperor’s son comes with its benefits.
‘They say his father favours him,’ says Elaith. ‘Right, Zeph?’
Just then, Hal appears, a gaggle of courtiers in his wake. He manages to shake them off and slides into the seat next to mine, shooting me a small smile just as serfs begin to swarm into the hall carrying platters of food – crab cakes served with seaweed and lime; honey-drizzled pork; tomatoes the size of my fist sliced and scattered with basil leaves; potatoes swimming in butter; apricots, pies, pastries. Flint takes my plate and starts filling it for me, while Zeph takes Hal’s arrival as his cue to change the subject.
‘How’s Cole doing? I haven’t seen him since the first trial.’
I watch as Elaith stabs a potato a bit too forcefully with her fork.
‘He’ll be fine,’ says Flint. ‘He’s just blowing off some steam. That reminds me, how are your water gifts coming along, sister? Mastered simmering yet?’
I shake my head. ‘I’m trying my hand at wave carving, but I can’t say it’s going well.’
‘You’ll get there,’ Kai assures me. ‘The girl I met on that first day at the Keep could barely manage drizzle, and now look at you.’
‘I second that,’ says Hal, raising his glass.
The others follow suit, and as they clink their glasses together I become aware of a warm feeling taking root inside my chest.
After the feast I slowly make my way to the library, where I limp through the maze of bookshelves towards my usual alcove. But once again, I find my armchair occupied. Only this time, not by the old man.
‘Hello, Storm Weaver,’ says Fox Calloway Castellion.
I start in surprise, and then, for some inexplicable reason, dart behind a nearby bookcase. ‘Are youfollowingme?’ I try and fail to keep the embarrassment out of my voice.
He chuckles. ‘Well, I was here first, so I suppose I could ask you the same thing.’
‘You’re right,’ I snap. ‘I’ll go.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t hear of it,’ Fox says pleasantly. ‘There’s plenty of room for two. And what a perfect opportunity to get to know one another, don’t you think? Now, why don’t you come out from behind that bookcase and let me introduce myself.’
‘Iknowwho you are. We’ve already met.’
‘Then I do hope I made a good impression.’
Spurred by irritation, I step out into view. Fox is lounging in the armchair. He wears a loose green shirt that gapes open to a frankly indecent degree, dark breeches and a pair of slightly scuffed riding boots. His hair is just as untidy as it was before, a few strands falling into eyes the colour of spring leaves, which fix themselves on me, rooting me to the spot. A traitorous blush stains my cheeks as I remember what I said to him at the Keep.
You’re very handsome.
Fox smirks, as if he’s remembering too. Round his neck is a simple golden chain. He runs the crook of his forefinger along it as he nods to the chair opposite. ‘Be my guest.’
I stay put. ‘Why did you come to the infirmary?’
‘Because I wanted to see you.’
My heart races uncomfortably. ‘Why?’
‘To put a face to the name. And what a beautiful face it is, too.’
My breathing turns shallow, but this time I refuse to blush. ‘Why did you trick me into thinking you were a serf?’
‘I didn’t trick you,’ he says innocently, taking a sprig of mint from his pocket and popping it into his mouth. ‘You made an assumption. I simply chose not to correct it.’
