by J. M. Miller
“What did happen, Vala? The light …”
He’d only seen my body once after cleansing. He was the only one besides Saireen. But even if he’d forgotten all the details of that chance viewing, he knew glowing wasn’t normal. For anyone. It hadn’t happened to his body tonight. And yet, it had happened to me and to …
“And who grabbed me?” he finished his thoughts and mine as well. The Shadow. The assassin.
“I wish I knew,” I answered honestly. “I will explain all that happened after you’re able to rest, and we’ll try to make sense of it all. Right now, we need to discuss our exit. The others are back in the main cavern. If they hold their breaths long enough to find us here, we’ll be expected to go back the same way. I don’t think it’s wise for them to see my skin submerged in any water, especially not this water.”
“I agree. What’s the alternative?”
I turned toward the split in the cavern wall where the assassin had escaped. “We climb.”
FOUR
The whip cracked again, slicing into my back for the third time. Despite its hard texture, my skin gave way beneath the severe force of the plaited leather, the surface splitting and splintering worse than any hit I’d ever taken. Tiny pieces cast off to the stone floor at my feet, dark gray crystals splashed with blood. I clenched my fists above my head and tugged on the straps that bound my wrists to the vertical wooden beam in the middle of the chateau’s empty prison chamber. More pain came as the dank cellar air sank its cool bite into the fresh wound, my skin forming a new barrier, healing, rebuilding.
I opened my eyes and gazed up at the highest point of the stone room, watching the dawning sky beyond the bars of the single uncovered window as the reality of my punishment settled. A tear slipped from my eye only to sizzle into vapor before reaching my cheek.
In the hours following Prince’s Night, Caulden and I hadn’t even discussed what had happened. We’d expunged all remaining energy by climbing out of the hidden cavern then backtracking to the main entrance. Haidee and Leint had been so relieved that the prince was alive that they didn’t push questions about the assassin. They simply followed my orders to tend to Josith and Rhen while I escorted Caulden back to the chateau. Discussing anything while his head remained clouded with drink would have been useless anyway. I’d hoped to sort the details after a few hours’ sleep, prior to reporting to Captain Baun and Queen Havilah. But I’d been wrong to assume word wouldn’t get to them earlier.
A raven landed between the bars, the dark silhouette blocking the sky. It cawed and twisted its head, eyes taking turns to view me, staring hard as if it wanted to speak. The hinges of the chamber’s door squelched, scaring the raven from its stone perch, and solid footsteps entered the room.
“How many?” The captain’s voice cut through the air as sharp as the whip.
“Three,” the chamber guard, Orimph, replied in his dull tone.
“Leave us.”
“But, sir, you said the queen requested six.”
“And what am I saying now?”
“Yes, Captain,” Orimph murmured with obvious disappointment. Being a chateau prison Guard, he saw very little activity. And he’d never liked me much anyway given that when the prince and I were young we used to steal the extra pastries he’d often smuggle from the kitchen. His clothes made a rubbing sound as his massive body moved then disappeared after another squelch of the hinges and a hard thud of the door.
Captain Baun didn’t say anything right away, only stepped around the open cell doors and approached my right side. Having tucked my face back down between my arms during their exchange, I watched his boots stop beside mine. They were his nicest pair, polished well enough to reflect the subtle morning light casting in from the window. Motes of dust and dirt they’d kicked up with their steps swirled above their smooth, pretty surface. I didn’t need to look higher to know he was wearing his best ceremony garments for the royal greeting.
His fingers grabbed the bunched fabric at the back of my neck, releasing my shirt to fall over my exposed skin. Then his hands moved up to the straps at my wrist and began unfastening. “Your actions dishonored us all.”
For the second time in the gentle dawning hour, I regretted not having slept with the dead assassins at Sacred Lake. Maybe Queen Havilah wouldn’t have been so quick to have me tied and lashed if the evidence of the night’s events had been seen by retrieval Guards first instead of relayed by another account. As it was, she wasn’t one to wait for testimonies. I’d been seized from my bed and led to the prison without having uttered a word in my own defense.
“I don’t believe my actions did, sir.” The words felt heavy, both exhaustion and pain weighing my tongue. “If I hadn’t entered Sacred Lake, the prince would have been killed.” Surely my visit to the lake was the reason the queen didn’t think twice about having me, a loyal servant to her and her son for most of my years, punished this way. She had every right to treat most Guard delinquents harsher than Garlin’s people. But I’d always thought I was regarded on a different level, my actions only ever selfless, only ever for the royal family.
“And yet, if you had done your duty correctly, he wouldn’t have been compromised at all.”
The straps at my wrists fell away, releasing my stretched arms. I lowered them to my side and stepped back to look upon Captain Baun, standing tall to properly address him. His steely gray eyes studied me the same way they had for years. The fair skin above his blond beard—heavily pocked and scarred, even on his bald head—twitched as he gritted his teeth, anticipating my response.
“Leint holds that blame for allowing the prince to endanger himself. If he had done his duty—”
“And you suppose the prince would have listened to Leint had he told him to stay in his room?”
I had no direct argument for that. The prince was stubborn when he wanted to be and was capable of persuading most people without even brandishing his title. “I left him with a trusted Guard for an hour. What else could I have possibly done to—”
“All of you are to blame. All of you failed to notify me of the situation. But you … as the lead on the prince’s detail, I expected you to know that protection doesn’t just require a sword and a swift hand.”
“I chose not to wake you over some ridiculous secret celebration.”
“It is your responsibility to inform me of anything involving the prince, to include ridiculous celebrations, and especially when you have no knowledge of the prince’s location and no way to predict a potential threat. We’ve been lucky here. Garlin hasn’t endured opposition since our people left the mainland all those generations ago. We’re far enough off coast that most forget we even exist except when our coveted exports arrive. But we knew everything could change when the prince came of age. And now that Queen Meirin and Princess Anja are here … Others might choose to sabotage the visit, hoping to give their own lords a better chance of capturing the princess’ heart and hand. And with last night’s obvious attempt on Caulden’s life, we can’t afford to make such passive mistakes.”
Hearing his tone soften, watching his eyes shift around the chamber, I knew what was coming. “Captain, I’m fully capable of performing my Guard duty. If I hadn’t been there …”
With a long blink, he inhaled evenly then opened his eyes to mine, their stern stare cutting through what little hope I had left. “Vala … you’ve been stripped of your lead position. You will remain on Guard for now, with restrictions.”
His words knocked the breath from my chest.
The rigid stance of his mountainous frame relaxed with a visible exhale—a slip in bearing not shown to many others. He’d been Captain of the Guard since before I was born, was the one who had overseen my introduction and appointed me to the prince. He’d been my guide through the years, second to Saireen. So naturally he had become another surrogate family member to me, and I believed a mutual feeling for that connection to be the reason for his occasional relaxed disposition. It all could have been ba
sed upon pity to start—aiding the outcast, a girl so different than most—but I’d hoped with my years of dedication, to the Guard and to the prince, that what was once pity had grown into some form of respect. Though, respect only went so far given that his own title held limited power, which was evident by the ruling that came next.
“With my recommendation, the queen is permitting you to remain on the prince’s detail. You’re to aid in anything the lead Guard or the prince needs, but you will not call orders. I have a feeling she’s only tolerant of this decision because there are guests on the island. She’s not happy about Islain’s intrusion on Garlin and would rather them leave quickly with nothing, save what they came with. So don’t give her a reason to strip you fully and toss you to the street or to the sea.”
I wanted to object to everything, but I had no words. With everything I’d put in to my duty, all the years I’d given to the Guard, such an easy dismissal without hearing my account was hard to ignore. And it stung. I blinked with a solemn nod. It was all I had.
“Before we assemble for the arrival, I want to hear your information to make sure we adjust our security measures appropriately. Is it true that their origin was unclear and that one escaped?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “He was the one who managed to pull the prince through the water to a separate area. He was more skilled than the others, moved through water and along the cavern swift and stealthy, like a shadow.” And his skin … I glanced at my hands, at the cracked layers of rough char I’d never seen covering another person. Until last night.
“Haidee and Leint mentioned an opening in the cliff where you and Caulden climbed from. Is that where he escaped?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe he was able to make the climb?”
“Possible, yes. He acted slightly injured, but I still think he was too skilled to fall. He had enough time to climb and disappear while I searched the dark cavern for Prince Caulden and checked his health.”
“Did you make the choice to climb instead of swim?”
“I did,” I admitted. Unlike many others, Captain Baun knew my affliction made water my weakness, but neither Saireen nor I had told him what happened when my skin was submerged or how much it truly pained me. I didn’t plan to change that or expand on the real reason Caulden and I had made the choice to climb. “If I’d felt swimming beneath the water was best for Caulden, we would have traveled back the way we’d been pulled. But with his drunkenness and my unskilled swimming abilities, the cliff was a better choice.”
He nodded his acceptance of my decision. “And the remaining attacker was injured? From your hand?”
“I …” I recalled the fight and finally had to admit, “I never landed a blow. He was intuitive and very quick.” So how had he been injured? His skin was like mine, but the lake’s water hadn’t hurt the same as my usual cleansings. Perhaps he’d been reacting to the air. The regrowth. Though, to me, that was nowhere near worthy of the screams he’d released.
“If he was quick, and you’re unsure of any injuries, he undoubtedly survived. Which means he’s still a threat. We need to pass on as much information as possible to prepare all the Guards. What other details can you give?”
I glanced at my hand, my skin, doubting what my eyes had seen despite the clarity I’d felt a few short hours before. Words caught inside my throat again. This time it wasn’t pain and disappointment holding them back. It was apprehension, and it was fear. I could admit to him that the man I’d seen was like me, that his charred skin was more unmistakable than I’d like to admit. But after being lashed and stripped of my position, questions began to churn inside. How might he or the queen react to that information? And alongside those doubts and fears rose something even more dangerous. Curiosity. The assassin’s skin was like mine, and from somewhere deep, I longed to know more, to know who or what was to blame. He could have answers.
“He was a man,” I finally admitted, “with a build as solid as stone but movements as agile as air.” I stared at my hands again and shook my head. “The lake. The cavern. Darkness made it impossible to see. I was fighting a shadow.” One who looked like me.
FIVE
As I made my way up to the prince’s rooms from the prison chamber, the chateau’s empty west stairs and halls were as eerily quiet as the previous night. I passed three Guards along the way, their eyes tracking me more openly, not used to seeing me uncloaked and without leather armor. Most of the chateau’s inhabitants were likely in the dining hall or the kitchen, prepping for the start of the big greeting day. I wondered now what part I would have to play, no longer positioned closest to Caulden.
The prince’s rooms were deserted. I recalled the final moments of our evening, walking him past the calm flames in the sitting room’s fireplace and into his bedroom where he kicked off his boots then promptly fell into the mass of blankets on his grand bed, moving no more. I closed his door before seeking the comfort of my own bed. A few hours later, the dim glow of fireplace embers had showed me his door in the same state while Orimph shoved me toward the hallway.
I stepped inside my own room, now bathed in morning light, and glanced around. It would be the last time I’d call it mine, unless I found a way to regain my position. Yesterday’s underclothes sat in a heap by the wall, the skin I’d shed from the lake dried into a lining of ash within. As instructed by the captain, I changed into my best garments then packed my small amount of belongings. I’d likely move to the Guard house, giving the others ample time to gawk. Or if Haidee felt kind, she’d allow me to share Saireen’s place just outside the chateau’s grounds.
“Vala.” Caulden’s soft voice entered through my opened bedroom door some time later.
I stiffened, the final packed bag in hand, still facing the window overlooking the west grounds. The fog was light, showing a view of Revelation Wood and beyond to the southwestern sea, a view I’d grown to love. My island. My life. As much as I wanted to discuss what had happened the previous night, I didn’t want to turn and face Caulden. I felt betrayed, and I couldn’t help but to direct some of the blame toward him.
“Are you hurt?” When I didn’t answer, his voice hardened a tad. “Look at me.”
I turned then, a routine response to a command. His hands fidgeted at his sides, tugging the edges of his silver and green embellished doublet and straightening his black dress cloak—a nervous habit often brought on by having to wear fancier clothing for special occasions. With his face cast downward, his eyes stared at me through a thin layer of black hair hanging past them.
“Are you hurt?”
“Not physically, no,” I replied honestly, forcing my eyes to remain focused on him no matter how painful.
“You’re still assigned to me,” he said with a sigh. “I couldn’t change her mind about everything else. I tried. Please, believe me.” His head and body straightened with a deep inhale, pulling his shoulders back and expanding his chest, showing his full stature. Sweeping a hand through his hair, he brushed the strands from his face. “I didn’t want this. It won’t be the same without you so close.”
His words were pitched with the same hurt I felt inside. I couldn’t blame him. His only crime was taking part in a tradition that had spanned numerous princes before him. It was his right to partake, just as it was his right to move on with life, with change. The princess would be here soon, and there was no doubt in my mind that she would claim him for her own. Despite knowing that nothing would ever truly come of our deep connection, that he was destined to marry someone more befitting, to become someone more than this island, my heart still wasn’t prepared. Especially after he’d kissed me.
“I will still do my best. For you,” I replied. Because no matter what, I would. It was my duty. My life.
He stepped closer, holding my eyes with his. “Knowing that makes me feel …” His hand reached out to mine, touching my gloved fingers gently. “I was afraid, after what happened, that you’d want to leave. That you wouldn’t want to be with
us. With me.”
I wanted to reply with all my heart, to tell him everything that had been locked inside for most of my life, to tell him that I was also afraid of him leaving Garlin, leaving me, but I was more afraid that my confession would only become more of a burden. I could never truly tell him. Perhaps it was best that I was no longer his lead Guard. If he felt the way I did, perhaps it was better not to know.
“I’m honored to stay, Highness. I want only the best for you.” The truthful words came automatically. But they were also stiff, a reminder of my place … and his.
“Yes, well …” He backed up a step and shifted his eyes away, as if snapping out of a trance. “I’m sorry that my actions hurt you. If I could change it all, erase the night, I would. For you.” His words were slow as he looked nervously behind himself, eyes somber while checking that his Guards remained out in the main hall, out of listening range.
“Thank you,” I replied. Knowing I might not get the chance later, I decided to discuss what had happened at the lake. “Do you remember more of last night?” When his eyes shot back to mine in question, I clarified, “About the assassin who got away?”
“It’s all hazy. I can recall some things.” Again, the words were slow, hesitant, and his eyes focused on the floor. “But I already told Captain Baun that I’m not sure of his appearance. It was all very fast and too dark. The water. The cavern.” His stance shifted and he threaded his fingers, fiddling. “You, though … Your skin in the water …”
I inhaled sharply, knowing he remembered enough.
“It was like a dream. It felt like something else changed there too. There was a quake. Do you think it had something to do with you being there?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. There had been a quake. Two actually. Both times, I had been in the water, which made it hard to deny the possible connection. “If your mom believes that, I can understand why she stripped my position. I ignored her warning, even if I was trying to protect you.”