Guard.
Not Warrior.
Still not used to that.
It feels strange coming back here. Father used to bring me to the hall all the time, showing it off as if it were something to boast about. He is a prideful man. A powerful man. You don’t get to be the head of your Order if you aren’t.
But since he gave me up, I’ve had no reason to seek him out either here or in his private office. And he’s made no effort to speak to me.
As soon as I enter the door at the base of The Tower, I can tell something is off. The air is heavy, as if filled with foreboding. I was never one for feelings or gut instincts before. That wasn’t the way of a Warrior, but now, they are the strongest reactions in me, and reluctantly, I can see the advantage of them.
The climb to the top of The Tower doesn’t take long, but the feeling doesn’t clear. I arrive and step towards the doors barring the main hall. Closed.
It would usually be unthinkable to open the door without being invited, but I grab the iron rings bolted into the wood and push them inward.
The sense of foreboding that hit me when I first entered The Tower is stronger here. I assess the situation fast, seeing the members of the Order on the dais with the Maker and her Triune. But my father is on the floor at the base of the steps. And a girl I’ve never seen before is marching right at me.
Burnt auburn hair spills out around her face, contrasting with her pale cream skin.
She is beautiful.
It’s the first thought that hits me.
And then I notice her eyes, soft green and sparkling, like moonlight shines behind them, but they’re also filled with anger.
Did she do this? Did she bring my father to his knees?
I stand in the doorway, blocking her path.
There’s no need for violence. She wouldn’t have made it into the Great Hall if she were a threat, surely, but I won’t move away first.
My eyes stay locked on her, and finally, she shows some reaction to me standing in her way. For a second, it’s like I can read her mind, running all over the questions she has—shouldshe walk right over me or through me? But she hesitates, just enough to give me the advantage. I move to close the gap, and she slows to a stop until we’re standing opposite each other.
Her eyes continue to burn with anger. And she bares it all at me like I’m the one igniting it.Fascinating.My hand twitches and reaches for the knife sheathed at the base of my spine, but she’s unarmed unless I count her rage.
I’ve got every advantage against her—a foot in height and plenty of muscle. She’s not short, but certainly doesn’t look like a Warrior or that she’s trained a day in her life. Her frame is delicate, yet with enough curves that my eyes want to linger and admire them.
“Let her pass, Aten,” Kamari instructs.
The order has me looking down at my father again, who has righted himself and is at least standing now.
Every instinct in me screams to challenge her, prevent her from passing and make her answer whatever questions I, or anyone else, may have. But I shove it down and ignore it until I can let my body move a fraction, granting her free passage to storm past me.
It’s easy to keep my gaze on her, and to my pleasure, she keeps her eyes locked with mine as she leaves, even twisting her head as she goes, tracking me as she does.
Kyra, one of the servants, follows after her, along with another woman whom I again don’t recognise. I’ve lived at The Court my entire life and know most of the people who live here, if not by name or directly, then by sight at least. For two strangers to be here is highly unusual and makes me wonder even more about the fiery girl.
We don’t deal well with outsiders, naturally protective of the gifts we’re granted.
After they leave, I take in the collective easing of the room. Even the Maker sits back in her chair as if it’s now safe to do so.
If this had happened a few months ago, I’d be at my father’s side. No hesitation.
Today, I linger, watching and assessing for a few moments.
Kamari, Portia, and Darien start to talk among themselves, not waiting for my father to join them on the dais. He turns to climb the stone steps back up to his position with the others.
His posture tells me everything. He’s about to unleash his anger. If the girl did bring him to his knees, he’ll be mad for weeks.
