Page 91 of Elysian

A high-pitched screech brought my attention to the window. Morak had opened it, and a bird came inside, landing on Morak’s shoulder. The manner in which they eyed each other suggested the bird was speaking to him.

Morak was a redblood, and his wraithling was the hawk. That was how he knew of the blockade he’d referenced earlier.

“This is why I could never catch you bastards,” Cassiel mused.

“Morak, no!” Liadan shouted.

The blade was already flying toward Cassiel. He caught it in his palm, squeezing as black blood dripped down his hand in rivulets.

“You bastard,” Morak hissed. Lines creased the corners of his eyes.

“The tension has grown thick,” Liadan drawled.

“He is nothing but a flawed man, and this has been our king,” Morak spat. “He does not even know what transpires across his own land.”

The corners of Cassiel’s lips tipped up into a dangerous sneer.

Nothing good would come of this.

“Cassiel!” I shouted, stepping forth. Cassiel slowly turned to face me, expression empty of emotion. “We cannot turn against each other. Not now. We must move as one to end the council’s reign.” I turned back to Morak. “I understand your resentment, but there are more important things to do than to fight amongst allies.”

Morak shifted to the side and looked out of the window. His wraithling flapped its wings. Hopefully the hawk was talking sense into him.

A pang struck my heart. It is what Piper would be doing.

I let a shaky breath free. Liadan watched me with something akin to pride.

“The king?” The soft words came on the heels of porcelain crashing against the tile. A young woman stood at the entrance of the foyer. Blood fled from her face. The wraithling against her leg, a small cat, hissed as the back of its fur raised.

The girl began to tremble. There was no mistaking where her focus was.

“Oh dear,” the older woman released the man beside her and scurried to her side. “Be careful with the shards.”

The woman’s focus was wholly on Cassiel. She whirled and sprinted in the direction she had come, leaving us in heavy silence.

“Well, that was awkward,” Liadan commented. “I did not know she was still here.”

“I offered her asylum,” Duke Deveaux answered. “She works as my kitchen maid.”

“Will she be an issue?” Cassiel interrupted, nearing until he pressed against my side, giving me the impression he might just sweep me up and take off.

“No, Your Highness,” the Duke said. “She is fearful. I apologize on her behalf for the impolite reception.” He pressed his hand to his chest, bowing slightly. “And we have been impolite. I apologize. You all must be exhausted. Liadan and Morak, you’re welcome to stay in the chambers you remained in before. His Highness can stay in the Velvet chamber. Once Mrs. Fern returns, I will have her show you the way.”

“I can take them!” the young boy offered, but the man who had clutched onto Mrs. Fern took his shoulder in hand, fear widening his eyes.

“No need to fuss. I know where to take them,” Liadan interjected. Just in time, because who I assumed was Mr. Fern was about to lose the contents of his stomach. Liadan turned toward us. “If you would follow me.”

I reached for Cassiel’s arm and moved toward Liadan. If Cassiel had resisted, there was no possibility I would have been able to haul him. Fortunately for me, he walked by my side. Duke Deveaux watched us with a pleasant smile on his lips. Morak still had yet to turn away from the window.

Liadan shared a glance with the Duke. Then he turned, with Cassiel and me at his heels. He led us to the left, through a quiet, dark hall.

“What did Lord Deveaux mean about ‘offering her asylum’?” I asked.

Liadan looked over his shoulder. “She escaped from the Harvest.”

“You mention it as if I should know what it means,” I commented wearily.

Liadan slowed and turned, forcing us to a stop. I peeked at Cassiel; he was just as in tune with the conversation.