“I’m sorry, my Lord,” she says bashfully, unable to look at me.
I reach for her delicate chin and turn it toward me.
“Atlys, just Atlys,” I echo her own words. Our eyes clash in a sea of gold and silver. “And never apologize for voicing your thoughts.”
“Sorr—” she starts. “I mean. Umm, thank you.”
“I will need to meet with you frequently. To ensure your proper training.” She is just a human. I have never cared for any Surface dwelling species before, and yet I cannot help but feeltethered to her. She pulls on me, sucking away bit by bit until my thoughts return to her.
I unclench my jaw.
“Yes, of course,” she whispers back. The room around us is silent. How long were we dancing without music?
“Dear royal delegates!” Commander Hogsmith announces, voice mantically amplified around the room. “I hope you were able to meet your champion, because the first task of the Summit begins tonight!”
24
The Ribbon and the Roc
Itry not to think about how bothered Castor looked when the Lord of Terraguard asked me to dance.And why is it so hot in here?
My stomach is in knots, and I cannot tell whether to be angry, upset, or nervous. It doesn’t help that this beast has seen me naked. I try to cast away the memories of us in the springs. How the water droplets slid down his muscular chest in mesmerizing drips. Or the way the steam rose slowly around the glowing water lilies that his huge hands managed to caress open with a single touch.
Stop it!I chide myself. It’s really not helpful to be having these thoughts about my enemy. His kind is responsible for what happened in Goldenpine; he is an Underling Lord, for fuck’s sake.
My mental battle is suddenly forgotten as the Lord of Terraguard places his hand on my back. My skin ripples as he lightly trails his calloused hands across my shoulder blade.
The question repeating over and over in my mind escapes me before I realize it.
“Why me?”
“Because Iseeyou,” he says, looking at me so intently, as if I should have known his answer, his reason. “I see the fire beneath your skin. The soul hidden underneath.”
His answer startles me. How can he see me when I cannot even see myself?
I recall the singular tome relating to the Underworld that I read over solstice break. It mentioned the Underworld Lord’s power of stealing souls for his own consumption. Soul Eater, some called him. I shiver at the thought.
“So it is true? You can see our souls?”
“Yes,” is all he says as he prowls around me like a hawk circling its prey, spiraling closer and closer until it’s right above its kill.
His face is but a few inches from mine. I should be scared by his powerful frame. Instead, my lips once again move without consulting my mind first. “What do you see when you look at me?”
“A soul unlike anyone I’ve ever encountered.”
He must be mistaken. I am not a unique soul. I can barely channel Sun’cher magic and certainly don’t have a story important enough to stitch onto a Teller cloak.
The lord interrupts my thoughts. “We will begin lessons soon.”
“My lessons?” I ask.
“Yes. You are not ready for the Summit. I have seen many, sponsored the last three…” he continues on, but I pay him no mind.
“Wait, so you are over seventy-five years old? At least? But you look like you are twenty-five, thirty tops.” Oh shit. I’m sure I’m breaking a million rules. I just interrupted the Lord of Terraguard, asked him his age, then started offering my unsolicited opinion.
Get it together, Akemi.
“I’m sorry, my Lord,” I quickly amend. He might be my enemy, but I cannot afford to sever this tie. Too much is at stake.
