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Everything I believed had been a lie.
And the betrayal stings. Acutely.
“There has to be a way to make an exception.” My voice is pleading. “I can’t stay in the palace and do nothing. Let me help the guard in some way.” Even as I speak, I know there’s not much I can do aside from actively guard the royal family and palace. It’s clear that won’t be allowed. Not now that the queen has declared me Thalore’s mate.
“I apologize, Andie, but I cannot let that happen. Though, I wish I could.”
My shoulders deflate.
“Can I at least workout here?” I need one place in this palace where I can unwind. And that certainly won’t be Thalore’s rooms.
Indecision twists General Wilm’s expression. Finally, he murmurs, “I will approve your use of the armory, provided you are discreet with your comings and goings. I suggest you only come here in the early mornings or evenings.”
Appreciation fills me. “Thank you, General.”
“You’re welcome, Andie. But please know, if anyone questions me regarding your activities, I will be honest. I won’t keep secrets.”
“I understand.”
He nods. “Considering the hour, I suggest you find your way back to the palace. Or someone might wonder what you’re doing in here.”
I hate to leave, but I agreed to be discreet. So, with a quick goodbye, I’m back to wandering through the courtyard.
There are fewer fae around. Most have already ventured into the palace to prepare for dinner. But there is a trio of fae females who catches my attention.
I stop and watch Princess Alora walk across the stone courtyard. Lady Nilly and Lady Hycinda trail after her, looking like eager puppies, yearning for a hint of approval from their princess. Even from this distance, I can hear them sputtering excited remarks about the upcoming trip to Navern and all the extravagant plans in place to celebrate the princess’s betrothal to Lord Clifton.
My brows furrow. Can the females really not sense Alora’s lack of excitement. Dare I say, her depression?
Alora and I have not spoken since she started avoiding me, long before the final competition in the betrothal contest. But we don’t have to speak for me to know she is not excited about her upcoming mating to Lord Clifton. He is not the male she wanted.
Clifton may have won the betrothal contest after reaching the bottom of the Murky Mountain, but he will never have Alora’s heart.
I fear it belongs to Thalore—all the more reason she hates me.
Sensing my gaze, Alora looks up. Her crystal blue eyes meet mine. She halts. The ladies behind her do the same. When they turn to me, excitement lightens their features. But they school their expression when they notice Alora’s less than enthused reaction.
Alora and I stare at one another. I try to convey so many things in my stare. Apology for how things turned out. Sadnessfor her predicament with Clifton. And, finally, regret that we lost the short stint of comradery we’d managed to develop before things went to hell.
I keep my breath even, but anticipation flows through me when Alora continues to linger and stare. Will she finally speak with me? Will I have to chance to mend the bridge between us?
My hopes are dashed when Alora turns up her nose and spins around. She practically stomps back into the palace. Nilly and Hycinda are quick to follow.
My shoulders slump. It’s wishful thinking, but it would be nice to clear the air with the princess. Especially now that I’m stuck in Avedon for the foreseeable future.
But try as I might, I can’t think of anything I can do mend my relationship with Alora. Other than get her out of her engagement to Clifton, and find a way out of my own predicament with Thalore.
I leave the courtyard and head to the infirmary to sit with Tony. As I walk, the reality of my situation threatens to dishearten me. It’s always this way. Especially when I walk into Tony’s room and see my ex lying unconscious on the bed.
I pull up the chair at his side and bring it close to the bed with a heavy sigh. I grab his hand and lace our fingers.
“Hey, Tony. Nothing much new to report today. Gerald and Hugh left, but you already know that. They came to say goodbye to you.”
Tony’s chest rises and falls in steady rhythm. His vitals are strong, and his wounds are healed. No one knows what’s keeping him unconscious. As always, my thoughts turn to his family.
Now that the other champions have returned to our realm, the Shadowguard must know about Tony’s condition. The Walsh’s must be so worried. Every day, I wait for Guardian Burns to return with them in tow to demand their son return to our realm. They have yet to come, but it’s only a matter of time.
And I hope that their arrival will coincide with a demand that I return home, as well.
