I throw Julietta an irritated glance, my patience with heralready wearing thin. “Eirabella is the most capable person I have ever met. I would not have brought her here if she weren’t,” I say sharply. “So, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your unsolicited opinions to yourself, Lady Julietta.”
Julietta’s eyes widen in surprise, clearly not expecting such a strong rebuke. But before she can respond, Caelum chimes in, his tone light but with a hint of curiosity. “Well, I have found her to be nothing but delightful. Where is she, by the way? I haven’t seen her at dinner all week. We would all love to get to know her better.”
I shrug, trying to appear indifferent. “Not my business,” I say. “I am not concerned with what she does with her time when she’s not training,” I lie. I lie through my godsdamned teeth. I’ve done almost nothing but think about what she’s doing when she’s not on the training grounds with me.
My mother, however, is not so easily swayed. “Oh, but it is your business, Rylan,” she points out gently. “She is your disciple, after all. Whether you want her to be or not. You must make her feel welcome here and ensure she is well cared for. I imagine her training, let alone trying to settle in here, is very difficult.”
Her gentle admonishment has shame washing over me as flashbacks of our harsh exchanges haunt me. Her frustration, her anger… and the way she’d stood up to me, refusing to back down even when I was at my most unforgiving. I can’t help but respect her for that, even if it infuriates me.
Once the king and queen leave the dining table, I find myself walking to the disciples’ quarters, a tray of food balanced in my hands. I don’t know why I’m doing this—perhaps it’s guilt, perhaps it’s something else. Either way, I find myself standing outside her door, hesitating for a moment before knocking.
Brienne, her ladies’ maid, appears from around the corner,her eyes widening slightly when she sees me. “Oh, Prince Rylan,” she says with a curtsy. “I can take that tray to Eirabella if you like, Your Highness.”
I shake my head, not in the mood for formalities but wanting to remain polite to the castle’s staff. “Er, no. I can do it. But, thank you, Brienne, for helping Eirabella get settled here at the castle. Mistress Verisya told me that she thought you would be the right person for the job, and I think she was right.”
Brienne smiles warmly. “It’s my pleasure, Your Highness. Even though she might be finding palace life a little difficult, she has been nothing but kind to me.”
I nod, tucking away what she’s shared. “Thank you, Brienne. That will be all,” I gently dismiss her.
She curtsies again and steps away, not turning her back to me until she rounds the corner, leaving me alone in the hallway. My knuckles hover by Eirabella’s door for a moment before I rap them against the polished wood, not sure what I’m going to say. There’s no answer. I wait a moment, then knock again, but still nothing. Finally, I place the tray on the ground and turn to leave, half relieved not to have to face her, half disappointed not to get to see her.
I’m a few steps down the hallway when the door creaks open behind me.
I debate continuing to walk away, but my feet make the decision for me. Turning, I see Eirabella standing in the doorway, looking utterly exhausted, still dressed in her training outfit. Dark circles ring her eyes, her braid in disarray, black and blue strands scattered in all directions, and there’s a weariness in her posture that wasn’t there before. But she’s still standing, still holding her head high, and I can’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness flare up inside me. Seeing her like this makes me want to pull her into my arms, to ease the burden she’s carrying. To repeat the mantra that she’s safe here. But Iknow better. It’s better that I keep my distance, that I let her handle this on her own. Getting too close to me would only complicate things for her. For the both of us. The past has proven that… time and time again.
“Food,” I say simply, nodding toward the tray.
Oh, how delightfully clever, Rylan. Food. Whatever else would it be? How does she unnerve me like no other person ever has?
She gives me a look, half-irritated, half-amused. “What, no impossible commands? Not going to tell me that I need to make all the silverware dance and perform a little pantomime before I can eat it? Don’t test me, I’m just that hungry that I could do it.” She eyes me. “I’m so hungry I could eat you.”
I can’t help the small smirk that tugs at my lips, trying to ignore the suggestive nature of the comment. Still as fiery as ever. Fuck, it makes me want her. “I’d be a willing spectator if you think you can do it.”
She rolls her eyes, knowing I’ve called her bluff, but there’s a faint smile on her lips. “Thank you, Ry—er, Your Highness,” she says, her tone begrudgingly sincere.
I shake my head. “No. It’s Rylan. I told you in the woods, you can call me Rylan.” And suddenly I wish we were out in the woods again, away from all… of this.
I take a step away, needing to put some distance between us, but then remember what she’d said about me keeping secrets, the betrayal in her voice, and guilt makes me stop. “I will be gone from the Aetherhold for a few days. I have to take a trip. You’ll be training with Master Gavrik and his disciple Doran while I’m gone. He… he’ll take good care of you. Your combat training with Chasina will continue as usual. If you need anything, just tell Brienne. And your presence is requested at dinner when the king and queen are in residence.” She doesn’t say anything, just stares at me with those piercing teal eyes, and it takes every ounce of power I have inside me to tear my eyes away from them. I move them to her lips instead. Big mistake. “Good night, Eirabella. Get some rest; you’ll need it,” I say and practically launch myself down the hallway, away from her. I’m almost halfway to the door at the end of the corridor when she finally speaks.
“Have a good trip,” she says softly. “Rylan.”
I pause, letting the softness of her words wash over me, but when I turn back, she’s already closing the door. I stand there for a moment, my own words caught in my throat. Then I mutter them to the closed door, “It won’t compare to the last one. I fear nothing ever will.”
With everything that’s happened, a few days away is exactly what I need to clear my head and refocus. But as I stalk away, I can’t shake the feeling that leaving her behind might be a mistake.
THIRTEEN
Eirabella
Master Gavrik’svoice is calm, almost soothing, as he instructs me to focus on the empty glass in front of me. I stare at it, willing the water to rise, to fill the glass, to do anything. But nothing happens. The glass remains depressingly empty, a testament to my failure.
“You can do this, Eira,” Master Gavrik says softly, his voice full of encouragement. “The power is within you. You just need to trust yourself.”
His kindness should be comforting, but instead, it only frustrates me more. I almost, almost miss Rylan’s harsh commands, his relentless pushing. At least with him, I felt like I was being driven toward something, even if it was gruelling. Now, I’m stuck here, still struggling with the simplest task, and it feels like I’m going backward instead of forward.
Nearby, Doran, Master Gavrik’s actual disciple, is practising some of his own manoeuvres. He’s a friendly,slightly bumbling man with an impressively unkempt head of untamed red curls, controlling an impressive swirl of water that hovers in the air before collapsing into a controlled splash. It’s nothing compared to what Rylan can do, but it’s still far beyond anything I’m managing.
I watch Doran’s water disappear into the wind with a mixture of envy and frustration. How can he do that when I can’t even fill a glass? The pressure of the upcoming Keeper trial presses down on me. How am I supposed to succeed when I can’t even get the basics right?
