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“I didn’t know you were waiting for me,” I said, standing up and brushing the dirt off my trousers. “I haven’t seen you since I’ve been back.”
“I know, sorry,” she said. Her eyes stared down at my boots while her cheeks turned pink. “I was... Prince Damien... He kept me in his rooms until the last of his guests left. I wasn’t let out until last night after you had gone to bed.” She raised her head and grabbed her elbow behind her back. I noticed the redness along her lashes. I bit my lip to keep from cursing the prince’s name.
“Why?” I asked. Damien was cruel but also easily bored. It wasn’t like him to keep Gwyn for days at a time.
Gwyn shrugged, rubbing the toe of her boot into the ground. “He didn’t do anything. Not really. I think he just liked showing me he could.” Bright red marks lined her wrists. The prick had restrained her.
“Walk with me?” I asked. I held my arm out to her. She grabbed it with a wide smile, and I noticed the gold ring on her finger. The one I had given her the last time I was in the capital.
She caught my gaze and twiddled her fingers along my arm. “I didn’t have to use it,” she whispered. I nodded and tried to return her smile but couldn’t. A cold wave crashed through my body. I dreaded what the prince might do to Gwyn one day, how far he would take things. My worst fear was returning to the capital and finding Gwyn’s body hanging from the prince’s balcony.
“How was Cereliath?” she asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Boring,” I said as we moved out of the garden and toward the beach.
Gwyn let go of my arm as I stepped onto the sand. She couldn’t go any further.
“Sorry,” I said when I realized. I hadn’t been thinking about her tether.
“It’s all right,” Gwyn said, her voice quieter than before. “Though I do wish I could walk along the beach again.” She watched the waves with wide eyes. Not the way she had as a child, full of wonder splashing in the rising tide, but the forlorn way sea widows watched the sea. Drowning in the memories of something that once was, filled with pain and the slightest bit of hope. A hope that was strangled by her tether.
Gwyn was bound to the palace as part of a life debt. Not one she made, but an ancestor of hers long ago. She was tied to the palace grounds by some long-lost magic and would remain so as long as the king lived. Just as her mother and grandmother before her. I remember the day her mother died, three years before. I had been standing beside Gwyn when her mother took that final rattling breath. A tear rolled down Gwyn’s cheek when it happened. She howled as the tether took hold, searing its mark along her ankle like a brand.
We walked back along the outskirts of the garden through the lush trees and thick blossoms. Gwyn told me of the gossip from the party. A wife of a lord had been found rollicking with a Halfling in an empty chamber. She had been disgraced. He had been swiftly put to death.
We reached the walls of the castle and Gwyn dropped my arm. She had duties to attend to but promised to dine with me before the suns set. I reached out for her as she walked down the hall, but she didn’t turn around. My hand fell limp at my side as a somber feeling took root in my stomach.
Damien tormented her. My chest tightened, knowing on some level he did it because of me. Ever since he carved the scars into my back, he hungered for other ways to cut me. He had watched as I grew fond of Gwyn, letting her mother bring her to my chambers as she worked. Sometimes baby Gwyn would stay for hours in that room, listening to stories of my travels. As soon as the tether took hold, he started playing his games with her. Taking some sick satisfaction from knowing that every way he hurt her, hurt me too.
Gwyn knew why the prince favored her more than the other Halflings, but she never held it against me. It was a kindness I couldn’t ever repay.
Looking back at the beach, an idea struck me. The suns were past their midpoint in the sky, the shadows along the garden terrace had already begun to stretch. I would have to be quick to get it done before Gwyn met me for dinner.
I crossed through the garden and stepped onto the library terrace. Hidden in an alcove of the castle was a small door I knew the servants kept gardening equipment in. I needed a bucket. A big one.
What I found was even better. A rusted wheelbarrow. Old as it was, it would get the job done. I moved the host of rakes and hoes piled beside it and pulled it out of the small closet. It creaked when I wheeled it, but I threw a shovel into its basin anyway. I didn’t care if I annoyed the servants.
I turned back around the corner onto the terrace, deftly navigating the wheelbarrow through the stone pillars. Just as I passed the last pillar, someone stepped out from behind it and slammed into me.
“I’m sorry,” said a soft voice.
“For not having eyes?” I snapped. The blood drained from my face when I realized who it was.
Prince Killian grinned at me, his soft green eyes glimmering in the sunlight. He held a book in his hand.
“I apologize, Your Highness,” I said with a quick bow. I pulled my hood back so he could see my face.
“It’sIwho should apologize,” he said with a crooked grin. “I do have eyes. I should make it a habit of using them.”
I froze, unsure of what to say.
“Keera, it’s truly fine,” he said, still smiling. “I’m actually glad I ran into you. I wanted to give you this.” He pushed the book toward me.
“A book?” I asked. My brows crossed as I peered at the leather- bound cover. It was embossed with three golden leaves, their stems twisted together into one branch.
“It’s a collection of historical essays,” he explained, tracing the Elvish lettering along its spine. “It covers some Elvish history, some Fae. I thought it might be useful for you to read since you plan on spending time in the Faeland.”
I took the book from his hands. It was heavier than I anticipated.
