“Do you two need help speaking or something?” he murmurs as he falls into step beside me.
I snap back at him, lashing out. “As if you can lecture anyone on the ability to talk.”
He only stares at me in silence, a lock of white hair falling over his eyes. “Point made.”
Tyton isn’t the only one to have followed me, apparently. I whirl around at the grating sound of metal boot heels, clinking with every step.
“Can I help you, Evangeline?” I growl.
She doesn’t break stride, moving with her lethal grace and lazy detachment. Montfort has given a cold glow to her skin and a new, mischievous light in her eyes. I don’t like it one bit.
“Oh, darling,” she purrs, “I hardly require anything from you. But I agree with this one—you certainly need help where Cal is concerned. As you know, I’m always happy to oblige.”
It wouldn’t be the first time. My heart squeezes at the memory of Ocean Hill and its secret passages. The choices Cal and I couldn’t make there—and the choice we made later, after Archeon. The choice I’m still trying to understand.
Evangeline just leers at me, waiting.
“I’m not here to entertain you,” I mutter, turning my back on her. Certainly she can find other ways to fill her time.
She isn’t thrown off in the slightest, even when Tyton levels a glare at her that would send most running off. “And I’m not here to pester you,” she says. “Much.”
I keep walking, the other two matching my pace. “Isn’t that your primary function?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve had to find a profession.” Evangeline pulls a face and gestures to her drab uniform. Well, drab for her. Up close, I can see she’s worked bits and pieces of iron through the green, sharpening the joints and seams. There’s iron in her hair too, tiny bits of it woven into her braid like shrapnel. “After abdicating and becoming a citizen here, I enlisted in the Montfortan military. I’ve been assigned to guard duty, specifically in the premier’s residence.”
The thought of Evangeline Samos standing at doorways and following Red dignitaries around is particularly delicious. A smirk spreads across my face. “Do you want me to feel sorry for you?”
“Feel sorry for yourself, Barrow—I’m your bodyguard.”
I almost choke on nothing. Next to me, Tyton forces out a scoff. “I beg your pardon?” I sputter.
She merely brushes her braid over one shoulder, gesturing for us to walk on.
“I’m so good at saving your life, I might as well get paid for it.”
Three hours later, the sun begins its early descent in the mountains, fading fast over the western range. The sweat cools on my skin, sending a shiver over me as I towel off, walking back down toward the premier’s palace. Evangeline casts annoyed looks over her shoulder, willing me to hurry up. She didn’t care for the electricon sparring session. She knows what it’s like to fight one of us—seeing the combined might of four was probably a shock for her. Rafe and Tyton follow me at a slower pace, talking to each other. Their voices echo down the mountainside, away from the electricon sparring ground upslope. Ella keeps close to my side, a towel over her shoulder and a grin on her lips. Overhead, an electric storm turns and whirls, weakening with every passing second. Soon it will be just a whisper, a shadow against the pale pink sky.
“When do you move out of the estate?” Ella asks, her blue hair vibrant against the sunlight. Her dye is fresh. Mine, not so much. The purple ends of my hair have gone dull, with bits of gray fading through.
“After the gala,” I reply. The excitement in my voice is real. “It’ll be good to finally get our own space.” After nearly a year of barracks and borrowed rooms, I know my family is eager to have a home once more.
Ella smiles kindly. “You living lakeside or slopeside?”
I curl a piece of hair around my finger, enjoying the feeling of soreness after good workout. My muscles ache and my blood sings. “Slope. The lake town house they offered was beautiful, but I like being up high.”
Where I can see, where no one can sneak up on me.
She nods, thoughtful. “How is the family adjusting?”
“Better than expected. They like it here. And what’s the alternative?” The Stilts? I almost laugh. None of us would return to that trash heap, not for anything short of Shade’s return. The odd thought sobers me, and any delight from the training session fades away.
Ella notes my sudden change in mood. Her excitable air fades with my happiness, and we both lapse into easy silence.
In spite of the memories always threatening to surface, I like being here too. With my family, with newbloods like me. With people who believe the world can change, because they’ve done it already. It makes the future look less daunting.
At the rear gates to the palace, the other electricons break off. Rafe waves first, his brown skin taking on a golden edge in the sunshine. “Same time tomorrow?”
“If our schedule allows,” Tyton mutters.
Ella elbows him in the ribs, trying to draw a smile from the taciturn man. “Of course, Ty, how could we forget? You with your important meetings all week, whispering and dealing—”
“Wining and dining!” Rafe crows, blowing Tyton a kiss. Like Ella’s, his green hair is freshly dyed. “Tomorrow, loves!”
“Tomorrow,” I echo, watching them go. I swear I’ll make time tomorrow. I don’t think I’ll keep sane otherwise.
Evangeline taps her foot loudly, impatient as ever. She inspects her nails, for once free of metal claws. “You Reds are always so sentimental.”
“You should try it.” I roll my eyes, pushing past her and into the still-lush grounds of the palace. Carmadon hasn’t neglected an inch of his husband’s government home. Guards nod at us as we go, looking impressive in their dark green coats and polished boots. Evangeline even nods back to a few, both Red and Silver. I wonder if she’s starting to make friends in her new home—if she’s even capable of making friends.
“Well, do you feel better, at least?” she asks, her breath fogging in the crisp air. Leaves crunch beneath our feet.
“Are you my bodyguard or my mother?” I grumble, meeting only her twisted smirk. “Yes, I feel better.”
“Good. It’s easier to protect people with a clear head.” She taps her hands together, her rings clinging together like bells. “So it’s been a while.”
“Two months,” I echo, not knowing what else to say.
“You certainly seemed like you needed the time away.”
Her eyes rove over me, as if she can see through my clothes all the way to my bones. Evangeline remembers what I looked like before, the last time I saw her. She had been in Montfort only a few days, having fled Archeon and the iron grip of her father. I thought she was passing through, just another refugee of the war making her way west. Never did I think she’d stay in a place like this, a country where she was equal to any Red. Equal to me.
I suppose Elane was worth the price. Love was worth the price.
When I saw her, she had crossed half the world to be here, on foot, by boat, and finally by jet. Somehow I looked so much worse. Hollow, in shock, unable to sit still or slow down. We passed each other in Carmadon’s garden, and even she knew to give me space. For once, Evangeline Samos had no snide remarks for me, and let me walk alone.
Perhaps this is the cost for such kindness. Having her trail me everywhere.
“I’m ready to be back,” I admit. Somehow, it’s an easier thing to say to her than to Gisa or Farley or Kilorn. She’s seen me at my worst, at my darkest, when I thought the rest of my life would be Silent Stone and a cruel king’s love.
Usually, Evangeline reserves her pride for herself. Today she spares some for me. “I don’t like you,” she replies, and it sounds like another admission. An acceptance. A step toward friendship.
My response is automatic. “I don’t like you either.” It draws a rare, true smile from her. “So, what’s next on my schedule? I know I skipped out on t
he trade meeting, but is there something else I have to be at before sunset?”
She blinks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “How should I know?”
I almost laugh. “The last time I had a bodyguard, he kept me to a schedule.” Strange. He was a Samos too.
Evangeline sighs, following my train of thought. “Lucas wasn’t all bad. He didn’t deserve to die.” Her eyes cloud a bit, darkening with memory. “And he was a better bodyguard than me. I don’t have any idea where you’re supposed to be right now.”
“Brilliant.”
The mischievous glint returns, brighter than ever. She grins, showing teeth. “I do know where someone is, though.”
My stomach flips. “Why do you keep nudging us at each other?”
“Well, before, it was to make sure he didn’t marry me. I mean, could you imagine? No thank you,” she says, pretending to retch. I purse my lips as we step into the palace. “Fine, to each her own.”
The change from crisp, cold air to the warm halls inside falls around my shoulders like a blanket. The scent doesn’t change, though. Inside and out, the palace smells like the fresh tang of pine.
“Why do you keep nudging now?” I drop my voice. Several meetings are still in session, and too many people roam the palace for my taste.
Evangeline does no such thing. “There aren’t many who deserve to be happy. I’m certainly not one of them, but here I am.” She leads me around a corner, winding us toward the entrance hall. “I think you might deserve it, Barrow.”
I gape at her. That’s one of the kindest things another person has ever said to me—and somehow it’s coming from Evangeline Samos.
Again, it feels easy to talk to her. Maybe because we aren’t friends or family. She doesn’t have the same expectations of me, or the same fears for my well-being. There’s no risk to her.
“He saw me the other night.” The words fight their way out of my mouth. “He wouldn’t speak to me.”
It feels shameful to say, shameful to even care about. I was the one who left, after all. I told him to move on if he wanted to. I won’t ask you to wait for me.
And yet he didn’t say a word.
When I look at her, I expect judgment. There is nothing but Evangeline’s usual detached sneer.
“Are you physically incapable of talking to him first?” she drawls.
“No,” I mutter, sullen.
Evangeline flounces off again, a bit of a spring in her step. Her rings jingle again as she snaps her fingers, gesturing for me to follow.
“I think you need a drink, Mare Barrow.”
This sector of Ascendant is lively beneath the sunset, looking out over the lake waters from a man-made cliff. Lanterns cross over the pedestrian streets, glowing brightly already. Many bars and restaurants spill out onto the sidewalks, their chairs and tables filled with patrons returning from work. Laughter and music wash over me, both foreign sounds. Part of me wants to turn around and go back to some quiet corner of the palace. The noise is almost too much, grating on my nerves. Every happy shout could be a scream, and the smash of a glass somewhere makes my entire body jump.
Evangeline puts a cool hand to my arm, grounding me. This isn’t a battlefield. It isn’t a Silver palace either.
It reminds me of Summerton, of Archeon, of Silver cities where places like this would never allow Reds to enter, let alone serve us. But both kinds of blood are here, evident in their varying shades of skin. Cold bronze, warm ivory, icy porcelain, vibrant copper. Many still have their military uniforms, either coming off shift or enjoying break time. I recognize the white and green of politicians too, seeking refuge from the delegations.
One of the bars is quieter than the rest, and dimmer, full of alcoves clustered around a main bar. More like a tavern than a cosmopolitan meeting place. Those, I remember. Those, we had at home. It’s where I met the prince of Norta, though I didn’t know it at the time.
And, of course, that’s where Cal is sitting, his back to the street, half a drink in hand. I’d know his broad silhouette anywhere.
I glance at myself, my velvet clothing discarded for a training suit. There’s dried sweat on my body, and my hair is probably still on end from all the static electricity.
“You look fine,” Evangeline says.
I huff at her. “Usually you’re a good liar.”
She raises a fist and fakes a yawn. “Watching over you is very taxing.”
“Well, you’ve certainly earned a break,” I say, gesturing to one of the tables at another bar. “I can handle myself for an hour or so.”
Thankfully, she doesn’t argue and sets off toward the loudest, shiniest, and most boisterous bar on the street. A flash of scarlet ripples at a seemingly empty table on the curb, and suddenly Elane is sitting there, a glass of wine in hand. Evangeline doesn’t look back as she waves me on. I scoff to myself—that meddling magnetron probably had her shadow girlfriend keep tabs on Cal so she could shove me at him when he was alone.
Suddenly I wish I had more time. To think of something to say, to rehearse. To figure out what the hell I want. I could barely speak to him this morning, and the sight of him last night left me haunted. What will this do to both of us?
Only one way to find out.
The seat next to him is empty, and high up. As I climb into it, I thank my body for remembering its agility. If I fall out in front of him, I really might die of embarrassment. But I stay level, and before he can even turn to look at me, I have his glass in my hand. I don’t care what it holds. I just drink, steadying my nerves. My heart hammers in my chest.
The liquid is slightly sour, but cold and refreshing, with an edge of cinnamon. It tastes like winter.
Cal stares at me like he’s seeing a ghost, his bronze eyes wide. I watch as his pupils dilate, eating up all the color. His uniform jacket is unbuttoned, hanging open to the fresh air. He doesn’t need a scarf or coat to keep him warm right now, just his own ability. I feel it at my edges, ready to wash over me.
“Thief,” he says simply, his voice deep.
I look back at him over the rim of his glass, finishing the drink.
“Obviously.”
The familiar words hang between us, meaning more than they should. They feel like an ending, and a beginning. To what, I can’t say.
“Is the great Tiberias Calore skipping out on his delegation?”
I reach, putting the glass back in place in front of him. He doesn’t move, forcing my arm to graze across his. The simple touch explodes through me, down to my toes.
The bartender passes by, and Cal motions with two fingers, silently ordering for both of us. “I’m not a king anymore. I can do as I like,” he says. “Sometimes. Besides, it’s another trade debate right now. I’m no use.”
“Me neither.”
It’s a relief to know that, for now, no one else is relying on me. Not to speak, stand, or be someone else’s flag bearer. When the bartender puts a full glass down in front of me, I drink half of it in one gulp.
Cal watches my every move, a soldier surveying a battlefield. Or an enemy. “I see your brothers taught you drinking.”
I grin, shrugging. “Had to do something to pass the time up north.”
Cal sips more politely and wipes the foam from his lips. “How was it?”
The Paradise Valley beckons, even now. The empty wilderness, the mountains, the quiet of falling snow beneath a full moon. It is a good place to forget yourself, to be lost. But I can’t do that anymore. “It was good for me. I needed . . .” I bite my lip. “I needed to be away.”
He furrows his brow, watching every tick of my face. “And how are you?”
“Better.” Not perfect. Not whole. I’ll never be whole again. His eyes darken, and I know he sees that in me. He feels it in himself. “I still don’t sleep properly.”
“Neither do I,” he replies quickly, forcing another sip of beer. I remember his nightmares, some quiet, some thrashing. About his father dying at his own hand. I still can’t imagin
e what that must feel like. And now I bet he dreams about Maven. The body he found, my wound in his belly. I dream about him too.
“I try not to think about him,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself. A sudden chill blows over me. From Cal or the mountain, I can’t say. “It doesn’t work.”
Another gulp of his drink. He breaks first, looking away from me, his gaze like embers. “I know.” After a long moment, his eyes sweep back to me. The sorrow clears from his face. “So what’s next?”
I’m not sure what he’s asking, so I answer the easiest interpretation of the question.
“Proper resettlement. Gisa is supervising a move from the palace to a town house of our own, up the slope.” I point over his shoulder, gesturing in the general direction of our new home. “She said it has a beautiful view, and I guess it’s close to where we electricons can train.”
One side of his mouth draws up in a grin. “I figured that storm up the mountain wasn’t natural.”
I return the smile and gesture to my ragged appearance, sweat and all. “In case you couldn’t tell.”
“You look beautiful. You always do.” He says it so nonchalantly, then takes another sip of his drink without blinking or breaking his gaze.
Cold air whistles past my teeth as I suck in a breath, a last gasp before the plunge. My grip tightens on the glass in my hand, until I’m afraid it might shatter. “You saw me last night,” I whisper, my voice almost lost in the tavern.
An emotion I can’t name shadows his face. “Yeah.”
I hoped for some clue in his voice or expression, but I’m left to stumble in the dark for understanding. “Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask, trying not to sound desperate. I can’t tell if it works.
He forces his trademark grin, lopsided and easy. “You wanted me to wake up half the palace, including your dad?”
“That’s not why.” At least I know how to see through his charm by now.
A blush blooms over his cheeks. I unsettle him as much as he unsettles me. Frowning, he takes another drink of his beer. A long one, as if he can just wait me out. Fat chance, Calore.
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