Alix gives a grunt of affirmation before he heads out of our shared room. I follow, and my stomach is like a hive of angry wasps. The breakfast that’s been left for the delegation looks delicious, but I don’t think I can bring myself to eat anything. Besides, if I’m truly going to Pinnacle, I should fast until after prayer is over anyway.
It’s too early for the King to be awake, but Arlon seems to sleep less and less every passing day. He’s sitting at the long table, his eyes unfocused as he picks halfheartedly at a scarce breakfast of flatbread and hummus. He only surfaces from his thoughts when Alix sits heavily in the chair beside him and starts grabbing much more colorful options from the breakfast spread.
“Morning,” Arlon murmurs before he catches sight of me. He takes one look at my outfit before he asks, “You’re going to Pinnacle?”
I’ve avoided it since we got here, but something at the ball hardened my resolve. If I’m going to do this, I need to put myself in front of Feisal and the rest of the Shykhdar as frequently as I can.
I brush a loose hair behind my ear. “It’s been some time, so I thought maybe I’d go and... reintroduce myself.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of Arlon’s mouth as he looks me over. The citran and folded fahrits I’m wearing are perfectly acceptable for a man, but my hair isn’t, and Arlon seems to realize it. He holds up a finger before he gets to his feet. He disappears into his quarters, but he’s only gone a moment before he returns with a familiar strand of spells.
A strange wave of homesickness overtakes me as I look at my necklace. God, but it feels like it’s been ages since I’ve worn my spells. He untangles one strand from the rest before he holds it out to me.
“Can I trust you to carry these responsibly?” Arlon asks.
It’s my essential strand - mostly defensive and utilitarian spells, with a few evocations for good measure. I have too many spells to carry all of the time, but this is the strand I wear around the Crux and into town, just in case.
“Yes, sir.”
Arlon drapes the spells around my neck before giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Be careful.”
I understand his worry. Going to Pinnacle means leaving the palace. Inside the walls, I’m protected as part of the Strae delegation, but Pinnacle requires a short trip outside. There are private tunnels that the Shykhdar uses to get there, but I doubt I’d be allowed into them now.
“I will,” I promise as I wrap one hand around my spells. Wearing them and my magiline citran, I’m bordering on paranoia. “I’ll be fine.”
Bells ring through the city as I head out of the Strae delegation’s quarters. I cut through the main courtyard until I reach the grand vestibule, steeling myself to go down the grand staircase to the city streets. But then Samira’s voice sounds out behind me.
“Olbric?”
For a second, I’m afraid she’s with my ama and father. But she’s only accompanied by Lavleen and Jahanna, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Are you going to Pinnacle?” Samira asks.
I don’t blame her for being surprised since I haven’t bothered to attend the last couple of weeks. I walk over to join them, smiling as Jahanna throws her arms around my waist in a strong hug. “I figured I’ve avoided it long enough. Where are Ama and Father?”
“They went ahead early.” Samira links her arm with mine before she steers me towards the private tunnels. Two soldiers stand guard at the entrance, and though they eye me with thinly veiled disapproval, they bow politely to Samira and let us pass.
Jahanna grabs my other hand as she says, “Ada walks soslow.”
I don’t doubt it. He put on a strong face when we first arrived, but seeing him at the ball had been eye-opening.
“Or maybe you just race ahead, little dust devil,” I tease. She’s already tugging to try and pull Samira and me down the torchlit path faster, but I grab her fingers and give her a spin. She lets out a delighted giggle as she twirls before coming to settle back by my side.
Samira smiles, but worry pinches her brow. I don’t want to talk about it in front of my younger sisters, so I say, “If you’re going to speed up anyone, go speed up Lavleen.”
As it is, she trails behind us, slippers kicking at pebbles on the marble path. I give Jahanna another twirl before I release her like a whirlwind on Lavleen.
“Ugh, getoff, Hanna!”
I glance back to see Jahanna latch onto Lavleen’s hand even as she tries to shake her off. Jahanna cackles and says, “Still trying to save your pretty king’sstinkon it?”
I chuckle as they descend into familiar bickering. The sound of Lavleen’s outrage covers my quiet question as I lean close to Samira. “How... is he?”
It’s a topic we’ve both been dancing around. In the times I’ve sneaked out to visit her, our conversations have come close but never touched directly on it. After seeing him at the ball, now seems like as good a time as ever.
Samira lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Do you want the ‘I’m fine, quit nagging’ he gives me, or do you want my opinion?”
I snort. “Your word is far more reliable.”
