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Instead, he shrugged and said, “You whispered, ‘am I fucked up?’ in my ear. Honestly, I could ask you the same question, even though I already know the answer.”
The sound of the horse’s clomping stomp changed as the paved road transformed into the smooth wood of a small bridge. Over the bridge the woods enveloped the castle, providing some privacy from the rest of the town. Branches from trees that I remembered Graceson maneuvering through when we came here together to talk to Dace’s parents swayed in the crisp breeze. It was weird to think of how long ago I felt like it was when not nearly as much time had passed. I didn’t know then, when I pleaded with Queen Couley and King Henrick, that their reign would soon end with their deaths.
Guards outside the surrounding wall of the castle opened the doors without question. They watched with curious eyes as their new king entered, then narrowed them as they watched me. Exhaustion made my limbs weak and my eyelids heavy and I didn’t have the energy to care.
The same plain courtyard greeted us. A few guards walked around inside, walking in repetitive routes, while others tiptoed on top of the wall, able to peer out over the canopy of the trees. How far into town could they see? Did they see us coming from a distance?
A short staircase led to the main entrance. Thankfully, they hadn’t seen the need, like King Ganglin’s ancestors, to make visitors climb a thousand steps to enter. I’d die before walking up steps like those right then. At the bottom of the steps, a Fae man waited, dressed in well-pressed clothes, but not fancy enough attire to be of status. Staff, then. Not a slave, but probably someone who oversaw them.
“King Dace, welcome home.” He bowed.
“Thank you,” Dace clipped out, slipping his leg over the horse and jumping down. With both arms, he reached up and took hold of my waist. My face became red as his large hands wrapped around me. It made me feel small and dainty instead of butch and tomboyish, as I usually did. Settling my feet on the ground, he kept his hands on me for a moment before they slid up my rib cage and let go of me altogether.
The attendant, or whatever he was, waited patiently until Dace turned around. Dace frowned at him. “Why are you still here?” he blurted.
Such a graceful king.I rolled my eyes.
“You have a letter from King Windre.” The man reached into his jacket and removed an envelope from a hidden pocket.
“When was this received? Maybe it has word about the army,” Dace said expectantly as he yanked the letter from his hands.
“It arrived only moments after your departure.” The man bowed once more, then turned and walked up the few stairs and into the castle.
“Not news then. I’ll write to him as soon as we get inside.”
My body felt like a wilted flower. I wasn’t sure which need was the most demanding. The hunger, the need to relieve myself, or the need to sleep. I waved with the breeze, like a leaf barely hanging to its branch, while Dace opened up the letter. His eyes zigzagged over the text.
“What does it say?” I yawned.
“It says our presence in the Acture Court is being requested.” He folded the letter back up, not near as neatly as it had originally had been folded. The paper crinkled more as he shoved it into the front pocket of his pants.
“It’s almost as if we should have stayed with the Nymph army,” I said bitterly. Dace ignored me, handing the reins of the horse over to a guard who waited quietly. Then with a sigh, I added, “I can’t travel back to the Acture Court until I’ve rested.”
“Oh, we can’t leave for a couple of days.” His face remained mostly impassive, the only sign of emotion was the grief that remained in his eyes, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. “I’ll put that in the letter I send so they know we are agreeing to come, but for now we must stay.”
“Why put it off so long? I only need the night to recover.” I missed Hattie dearly, not to mention that needing to know if the army had safely arrived was eating away at me. I cursed myself for leaving my backpack with Shavarra. It may have contained many items that they needed for the journey, but it also happened to contain the crystal I used to communicate with my sister. Now I’d have to wait.
“Tomorrow evening I will officially be crowned king by the people. We will be receiving lots of guests for the event today if they haven't already started arriving.” Dace didn’t look well enough to be receiving guests, and it was his duty to personally welcome each of them. Could he mentally make it through that?
“Oh.”
Sensing my unease, Dace placed his palm on my back, guiding me up the stairs. “It’s all going to be fine.”
“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”
“Maybe if we both say it frequently enough we’ll believe it,” he said quietly into my ear.
My thighs protested with every step. Muscles that I had unknowingly kept tensed while we rode here throbbed. Working in the stables with Daethian, we weren’t allowed to ride the horses, not really, but I had some practice when the heat of the day was unbearable and the horses needed exercise or moved from the stables for it to be cleaned. The dull pain wasn’t new to me.
I remembered the plain, unremarkable style of Dace’s castle from my last visit. A painted family member here, a painted family member there, the classic suit of armor propped up to look like a guard sitting in a corner, and pretty much nothing else. I retained a vague memory of how to get back to the room that I had occupied before, but we passed the halls I needed to turn down.
“Here.” Dace eventually stopped, opening up the door for me.
I gave him a good side-eye. “This isn’t where I stayed before?”
“It’s not.” One side of his mouth lifted in a small smile.
With a shrug, I stepped into the room. Curtains were opened to let light in through three tall, skinny windows. A few Fae lights flickered to life as Dace walked in behind me. The room was unsurprisingly plain, like the rest of the castle. Only a few things hinted that we hadn’t stumbled into a guest suite. Open and spread flat on its pages, a book waited on the nightstand. Next to the large four-post bed, clad in plain blue bedding, and above the nightstand was a set of hooks. I imagined that would be the best place for the belt with thin daggers that always graced Dace’s lean hips to wait for him at night. The corner was filled with a large wardrobe and an even larger mirror. I could already picture Dace dressing and staring at his image, pleased with his good looks.
