“You did,” Raylen says softly, his gaze dropping to my mouth before rising back to my eyes. “You were so fierce, so unbothered by the pressure, and that silly, sticky slice of cake grounded me completely. We went up there and blew them away. To you, it was just a grumpy threat to keep your project perfect. But to me… it was the exact moment I realized Moonscliffe wasn’t just a place I was hiding in anymore. It was home… because you were in it.”
Sitting there in the shaded quiet of the alcove, listening to the soft rustle of the leaves, my heart aches with a profound, terrifying revelation. I had spent ten years remembering an arrogant, golden boy who outgrew our quiet village. But the boy sitting next to me had just been a lonely, broken child clinging to my silence like a lifeline.
Goddess help me, I have had him entirely wrong.
We sit in comfortable silence as we finish our cloud cakes, chewing slowly and savoring each bite. Raylen’s words replay in my head over and over again, echoing through my thoughts until I realize just how deeply I have misunderstood him.
He paints my childhood in an entirely different light. I must admit, I rather prefer the picture he has drawn over the fractured way I remembered things. Now that I think about it, I actually share several fond memories with Raylen. He never bullied me. Not once, unlike some of the other children. But I think I must have lumped him into the same category as everyone else, judging him for his vast popularity and wealth rather than the actual content of his character.
As my mind shuffles through some of my favorite moments from our teenage years, a quiet light kindles behind my ribs, thawing the cold guard around my heart. Stars, how wrong have I been? Raylen is not the careless prankster I thought I remembered. Not at all. He has been nothing but kind to me. I briefly consider wandering the market later to look for a memory charm. Maybe I can find some minor enchantment to see just how badly my mind has warped the past. Is there even a spell out there capable of that?
After finishing the last of his cake, Raylen clears his throat and stands, brushing the stray crumbs off his trousers.
I tug my pocket watch from my vest to check the time, catching my breath when I realize how many hours have slipped away in his company. “By the stars, I need to get to the ThreeCats Inn. Talia is meeting me there soon. Our mother booked us a room.”
Raylen’s face scrunches in instant confusion. “The Three Cats?”
I stiffen automatically at his tone, my defenses flaring up before I can stop them. It seems I will have to work terribly hard to break through my own grumpy demeanor. Taking a deep breath, I slowly force the tension out of my shoulders and nod. “Yes. Is there something wrong with that particular inn?” I had never heard of it before today.
Raylen shakes his head, though the frown lingers. “No, on the contrary, it’s very nice. The only thing is, I’m fairly certain a royal regiment has the entire place booked out for the week.”
My eyes widen with shock, and my heart starts to hammer against my ribs. “No. No, that doesn’t sound right.” I pull a thin piece of paper from my pocket, desperately checking my mother’s elegant, sweeping script. “Yes, see? Right here. It explicitly says she booked a large room for me and my sister.” My breathing starts coming too quickly, the familiar, suffocating panic rising in my throat as I feel myself beginning to lose my grip.
“Sy, it’s fine,” Raylen says smoothly, his voice dropping into that grounded, steady register. “I probably just misheard a rumor. We can go check it out right now.”
I shake my head, the spirals taking over. “It would be just like my mother to tell me she booked a room and either completely forget or do this for some other twisted reason. She probably did it on purpose, for all I know, hoping I’d be stranded and forced to stay in some random stranger’s bed.” I stand abruptly. “Dear stars, I have to make sure my sister and I actually have a roof over our heads.”
It is already late in the day. The chances of finding another vacancy during the festival are practically nonexistent if the room isn’t real.
Before the panic can swallow me, Raylen steps forward. He glides into my space and rests a soothing hand against the small of my back. The gesture is surprisingly comforting, yet it sends a sudden, electric zing straight down my spine. I freeze, thoroughly shocked by my body’s intense reaction. The sudden warmth of his palm acts like an anchor; before I even realize what is happening, the verge of my panic attack completely untangles.
“Sy, look at me.” Raylen reaches up, his fingers gently tilting my face so that our gazes lock. His lilac eyes are intensely steady. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about things, you hear? No more stress. If something went wrong with your booking, I will help you fix it.”
I bite my lower lip, my voice small and nervous. “It’s not just me. It’s my sister, too.”
“Yes, yes, of course. I will help you and your sister,” he reassures me instantly, his thumb brushing a comforting line along my jaw. “Talia is like family to me. I would never let anything happen to her.”
My lips part slightly at the word. “Family?”
He nods, a soft smile touching his lips. “She’s best friends with my sister, Sy. I’ve seen Talia many times over the last several years. Every time Isolde came to visit me, Talia was right there with her. When I visit town, the two of them are completely inseparable. They’re either trying the latest market desserts or shopping for the newest fashions. Hell, I’ve even caught them giggling and admiring several elven boys while on their travels.”
I shake my head. “Okay, no. I definitely do not need to hear that part.”
Raylen’s face melts into a delightful, teasing grin. “You were always so innocent. It’s quite endearing,” he says in a smooth, singsong voice, somehow managing to make the words feel like a rare compliment rather than an insult.
“Enough chitter-chatter. Let’s go,” I say, face heating.
Before I even realize what I’m doing, my hand reaches out and slides into Raylen’s. The sudden warmth of his palm shocks me. I don’t do this. Ineverdo. In fact, a sudden, jarring realization hits me: I’ve never actually held hands with anyone in my life who wasn’t my sister.
To my secret delight, Raylen doesn’t pull away. His fingers tighten against mine.
By the time we weave through the crowds and arrive at The Three Cats, I realize Raylen was entirely right. The place is bursting at the seams, fully booked. Either my mother catastrophically fucked up this reservation, or she had some serious ulterior motives.
“I’m pretty sure she did this on purpose,” I mutter aloud, letting out a heavy sigh.
The clerk behind the front desk offers me a look of pity. “I’m so sorry, sir. Unfortunately, there isn’t much I can do. The Prince of Emberleigh books out the entire establishment every time he visits. I’d recommend hurrying to some of the other local inns before they fill up, too, but honestly? I think you’ll have much better luck at the campsite.”
I shake my head, dismay washing over me. Look, I don’t mind roughing it in a tent, but my aching back was truly looking forward to a nice, soft mattress tonight.
