“A drop of water from the Whispering Spring. Henly gave it to me before she left for war and said she wanted me to move on should anything happen, but I have chosen not to. I choose her memory over a life with another.” She folded Emmery’s fingers around the pendant. “Don’t let my story stop you from finding your love. I don’t regret a moment of it, though I painfully miss her. I hope you find Shade. And not just for the sake of us all. I wish you happiness, Lady Emmery.”
With the Whispering Spring frozen over like the basin in the Skyborne Temple, this was a rare gift. One she could never repay.
Tears burned in Emmery’s throat. “I can’t accept this from you.”
“You can and you will.” Talia stood from the bed and gave a short curtsy. “Goodnight, Lady Emmery. Sleep well.”
“Goodnight, Talia.”
Emmery watched her petite frame disappear through the door. She waited several tense moments after the door closed before darting to the wardrobe. After prying up the loose wooden panel, she carefully tucked away the necklace and retrieved her pack and cloak. She smiled as she fondled the leather. Even if it had been a gift from Vesper, it washers; one of the only things here that actually belonged to her. Briar had grabbed Emmery’s journal, but Vesper still hadThe Nameless Book. The one he’d hidden from her.
Bastard.
After she dressed in her leathers and slung her favourite green cloak around her shoulders, she gathered up several dresses and either shoved them in her pack or draped them over her arm. How no one had noticed them missing yet was beyond her. Maybe Talia had discovered and kept her secret.
Emmery’s soul hungered for freedom and to taste the night air on her tongue, so she slipped the latch and slid out the window. In a moment, she clambered down the trellis and into the city streets.
CHAPTER SIX
EMMERY
Emmery kneeled at the Tree of Eternal Blood’s base, surrounded by night’s solitary peace and the distant hum of crickets. Icy wind tousled the hood concealing her face, and the dampness from the ground bled through her trousers, but her troubled mind paid the chill little attention.
As she laid her hand on the trunk and let the thrumming magic feed her starved soul, the grief-stricken woman’s face surfaced in her mind. After Emmery had snuck out her window and hunted her down, the woman had politely smiled and thanked her for the dress, though she likely had no use for it. Hopefully she could sell the garment or fashion something from the fabric.
Regardless, Emmery’s stomach twisted into knots like the woman’s pain became her own. At one time she’d struggled to provide for her family too, and despite her longing to help, the food and clothing she smuggled from the castle wasn’t enough to make a dent in these people’s needs.
The possessions made her sick and she wished Destonne would stop throwing expensive luxuries at her and acknowledge all the suffering he’d caused, then get off his ass and fix it.
As her cheeks heated with rage towards the King, her fingers pressed into the rough bark to distract herself. Even with her magic locked away, the tree’s power reached for her, begging her to do something she couldn’t quite name. She willed it to provide a sense of connection to these people she’d been locked away from; a chance to be a part of something outside herself. To belong.
That would likely never happen. Just yesterday she’d heard voices whispering in the dark corridors of the castle, claiming that her rogue magic would ‘bring the end’. Clearly they didn’t know about the restraints and her inability to summon her flame. She couldn’t light a match, let alone set the world ablaze.
Emmery snorted to herself at the ridiculousness of it all.
“Something funny?” someone hissed from the darkness.
Oh,fuck, she knew that voice. That accent.
Her head snapped up and her eyes narrowed on the King’s cloaked figure emerging out of the shadows, a pair of orange glowing eyes at his side. The half moon behind Brennen and Destonne illuminated their silhouettes like some holy duo. Emmery shoved down the urge to rip her dagger from its sheath and test if her throwing practice had paid off, but it would only get her into more trouble.
Brennen glanced at the tree. “Of all the places you could have gone, you came here, princess?”He barked a canine laugh.“Poor choice if you ask me. And next time, don’t wear the cloak. It’s a dead giveaway.”
Emmery scowled at the wolf and pulled her green cloak tighter.
Then Destonne stepped toward her. Her gaze trailed his boots laced to mid-calf, snug trousers, and his fitted leather jacket beneath his cloak. It was the same outfit he’d worn in Malheim the day they’d first met. After watching him snap Guthrie’s neck, she’d thought he was a thief or thug but she’d been wrong about so many things. Her eyes continued to his hood which strategically hid his crown. It was likely wise he hid his identity, because aside from the meeting with Vesper and the Council, he refused to acknowledge the consequences of his actions and take audiences with his people. If they saw him on the street, gods only knew what they would do to him.
He didn’t need to push back his hood for Emmery to catch the fury in his obsidian eyes. She muttered a curse under her breath.
Destonne cleared his throat then said, “Why am I not surprised to find you gallivanting alone through the city streets at night?”
“I’m notgallivanting.” She sat back on her heels and said between clenched teeth, "It’s also none of your business.”
“I could have escorted you. All you had to do was ask,”Brennen offered, his tone softer than it had any right to be.
“Oh, really?” she spat back. Raging heat crawled up her neck. “The only answer I’ve heard from the two of you is ‘no’.”
“Get up,” Destonne ordered. “It’s not safe. We’re going back.”