Page 126 of Sworn to the Shadow Throne

The choice was exactly what I needed to give myself permission. I took his arm, and the world around me suddenly seemed much more balanced and calm. It felt right.

But I had been wronged.

Wanting him didn’t make that less true. Feeling steadier with my hand on his arm didn’t mean my hurt had been melodrama. Fear, loneliness, and courtly pressure couldn’t force my complete forgiveness before I’d chosen it with my eyes open.

But I had to admit this much: he mattered to me. And I wanted to find my way back to the place we’d been in before.

Owain’s shoulders relaxed the moment my hand settled into the crook of his arm. The ridiculous grin spreading across his face was wholly undignified for a regent of anything. Judging by the ache in my own cheeks, I was grinning back just as foolishly.

There would be no going back, but maybe…just maybe, I could try to see how this went without letting fear get in the way.

Chapter 35

Lunette

The crowd parted for Owain and me as we made our way to the doors of the Great Hall. We exited together to see Reina waiting in the corridor. She watched us with an unexpected gentleness.

“I’ve come to take Lunette on a tour,” she announced.

“Told you,” Owain said, a smirk playing on his lips as he angled his face closer. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils then made the quietest sound of almost carnal pleasure in the back of his throat. Was he…smelling me?

I didn’t dare turn my head to look at him when he was this close. I’d do the unthinkable—and in public.

The hall behind us still hummed with the sounds of soldiers leaving, their weapons clanking as they flowed out on a wave of masculine energy. “See you tonight, moonlight,” he whispered, relinquishing his hold on me as Reina’s vise-like fingers gripped mine and pulled me swiftly away.

Even as I followed, wariness settled in. We wove through the bright corridors, followed by a few guards and fur-clad servants. At the castle steps, another line of armed guards awaited us, helms crested in Larethia’s forest green and gold. Horses stamped their hooves impatiently against the chill, breaths forming clouds in the pale autumn air.

I couldn’t help but notice that two were fitted with side saddles.

“So,” I said, lifting a brow as a groom steadied a dappled gelding, “what do I need to do to help with this charade?”

The corner of Reina’s mouth curved, though her dark purple eyes remained unreadable. “Go shopping.”

The image of trunk after trunk parading into my room flitted through my mind. What could we possibly need to shop for?

Before I could ask, she grabbed a heavy cloak from a waiting servant and draped it over my shoulders. Its fur was dense and smooth, and white as freshly fallen snow. It looked like it was from one of the great bears said to roam the frozen islands off the coast of northern Gelida.

The fur enveloped me the way I imagined those bears devoured their prey—completely, and without leaving any trace of what had been visible. The hood was large enough to fall in waves around my shoulders—protection from the rain and inspection by passersby. Its weight trapped warmth next to my skin, stifling some of my anxiety beneath it.

In other words, it was exactly what I needed at that moment. Thank the gods for a meddling aunt.

With a bit of help from a footman, I mounted the docile mare assigned to me without embarrassing myself overly much. I wasn’t used to moving in such heavy fabrics or with so much jewelry on.

But Reina didn’t have the same problem. After a surge of magic, she was ascending a set of conjured black steps to claim her seat with her usual grace.

“Nice trick,” I said light-heartedly.

Reina grinned.

Was I interested in being paraded about? No. But I did want to see more of the Tir. I’d always wanted to see life outside the tiny villages of the borderlands. I just never imagined it would happen like this—stuck somewhere between obligation and the most freedom I’d ever had.

Even as we left the keep, I could still feel the warmth from being so close to Owain. My hand still felt the shape of his solid arm. It felt as if I’d borrowed some of Owain’s steadiness and forgotten to give it back.

With a low groan, the heavy iron gates swung open. The horses stepped forward in a line, filling the air with the metallic clinking of armor as our guards shifted their weight, their steel greaves bumping against saddles and sword hilts striking breastplates. A shiver of excitement pulsed through me, vying with my anxiety for control.

Seeing the drawbridge up close that I’d only heard of in fairy tales decided the first battle over my emotions. Like a great wooden tongue lolling from the castle’s gaping maw, the bridge spanned the moat that surrounded the heart of the Tir. Beneath the clomping hooves, dark water lazed beside stone pillars. I imagined the monsters the depths of a shadow prince’s home would harbor and smiled, knowing he’d slay any that became a problem.

Once out of the castle’s shadow, the sun’s golden light filtered down, showering Larethia with all the warmth it could muster so late in the year. The air bit at my cheeks and tried to slip its icy fingers into the loose strands of my hair, but the cloak held fast against the worst of it.