Fantasy of Flight (18 page)

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Authors: Kelly St. Clare

BOOK: Fantasy of Flight
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I must stay.

Chapter Seventeen

I can’t sleep. The first time I’ve ever had this trouble in the castle. I sit up with an annoyed sigh and walk around the room. My gaze lands on the bath. I wonder if I can wake someone to fill it.

I dismiss the thought, but another takes its place. It must be past midnight. This big bath Ice told me of would surely be empty. I hesitate before throwing caution aside. I’m wide awake. At least I’ll go look at them.

Wrapping myself in a fur, I swing open my door and nod at the King’s Watch, standing guard several paces away.

My padding footsteps slap on the cold ground. They seem much louder than they actually are in the absence of daily bustle. The torches are dying down. It’s peaceful. I hear the murmur of voices in the kitchen and take the longer path to avoid meeting them. They’d probably think I’d come to kill them. I peek out of a small window as I near the far corner of the castle. I’ve since learned they purposely build the openings small to keep the heat inside. A half-finished tunnel juts out from a new square-shaped building. Blocks of stone lay in stacks where the partially built walkway ends. I assume the tunnel will eventually join with the castle.

Pulling the fur tightly around me, I brace for the wind and duck out the door, skimming across the wet ground. I reach the relative shelter of the unfinished tunnel and remove my hair from where it’s wrapped around my face.

I move in an awed circle as I step into the cavernous room. How did Adnan build this? Well, I suppose Sanjay did. That’s how they worked. Adnan thought of the idea and Sanjay turned it into reality. If I could trust myself to keep my expression bland, I’d ask them about it.

Though I missed the delegates, at least I could watch them from afar. And if Jovan could find the appropriate material for a veil, I could come back as Tatuma once my Outer Rings friends left.

I fold the fur over a sculpted bench and look around to make sure the baths are truly empty. Satisfied, I raise the soft black nightgown over my head and drop it in a dry patch close to the edge of the pool. I dip a toe into the smooth water. It’s warm - like the underground springs on Osolis. I sigh in pleasure as I wade in and arch backward to wet my hair. Afterward I float on my back, not wanting to cut the experience short.

Coming here was supposed to settle my mind. Instead the water is reminding me of home. I miss my brothers. I miss Aquin. I want to feel firelight on my skin and smell the smoky tinge of the air in the Second Rotation. I want to leap over the vines hanging between the Kaur trees. I allow a few tears to slip from the corner of my eyes.

A shuffling sound in the far corner of the room catches my attention.

With a splash, I submerge myself underneath the water. I push my hair out of the way and cover my chest, which rises up in the water.

“Who’s there?” I demand.

“Shit. This is gonna look bad,” a mutter comes from the shadows. Jovan steps into the light.

I gape at him. “What the fuck? Why are you watching me?” I try to sink as far under the water as I can without drowning myself. He holds up both hands and looks hard at the ceiling.

“Look. My guards woke me to tell me you left. I thought you might be running, so I followed.” I could almost enjoy how flustered he was, if I weren’t completely naked.

“How long have you been watching!”

He darts a look at me. “Only while you got into the bath and then I thought you wouldn’t like it if I watched, so I stared over there,” he blurts, pointing at the far wall. The way he says this makes me think he didn’t avert his gaze as religiously as he’d like me to believe. I open my mouth to give him an Alzona tongue lashing.

“Why are you crying?” he asks. I cover my face with both hands and groan. Of course. The one time I cry, he sees it. I hear his gasp and peek through my fingers. I whip my hands back down when I realize what he’s looking at.

“You’re fighting a losing battle there,” he murmurs. “Are you still upset about what people are saying about us?”

“Why do you always want to know how I’m feeling?” I ask, turning away from him. There is only the gentle slap of the disturbed water on the walls of the bath. “I don’t know,” he finally says.

I roll my eyes. If I gave him that answer he’d have badgered me until I gave an adequate response. “I was just missing my family and my world,” I say. “Turn around, I’m getting out.” And never coming here again.

There’s a bit of a dilemma as I get out. I planned to dry myself with the fur and then dress, but I want to dress as quickly as possible now and I don’t want to get my single nightgown wet. I settle for wrapping myself in the fur and balling up my nightgown to change into it once I reach my room.

“Here,” Jovan says. I look over my shoulder and see he’s shed his tunic and holds it out to me.

I reach for it after a brief pause. “Thanks,” I mutter and wait for him to turn around.

I chuck the tunic on, inhaling the scent of clean male as I do. The tunic goes all the way to my knees. There was a time when I might have felt self-conscious in the length. Not after wearing Frost’s attire.

I head for the door.

“You should dry your hair, you know,” he says. I give him a curious look and watch with interest as some color tinges his cheeks.

“That’s what my mother used to say. Uh, forget it,” he mutters. I peer at him sideways. It’s the first time he’s mentioned his mother. Most of the things I know about Jovan, I’ve heard from other people. He occasionally lets something slip. Actually, he’s only slipped when he’s drunk, or now, when he’s tired or possibly flustered. I tuck away the thought.

“Well, I would say you should always listen to your mother’s advice, but I won’t for obvious reasons,” I answer with a half-smile.

He shakes his head as he walks through the hall next to me, chest bare. The cold doesn’t seem to affect him at all. “It still makes me angry. What she did to you.”

I shrug. “It happens everywhere. It’s not right, but it’s not uncommon.”

“It doesn’t happen here,” he mumbles into a yawn. I stay silent and he stops in his tracks after a moment. I stop, too, a few steps in front. His expression is thunderous, expectant.

“You’d be surprised,” I settle for saying.

“What. Who?” he demands.

“Can I be assured of your silence on the matter? Normally I wouldn’t ask, but it’s not my secret. I’m only telling you in case I can’t get something set up before her husband returns.”

“Keep it a secret? I’ll tear the fucker apart. How’s that for keeping a secret?” he asks, his face a storm.

“I’m serious, Jovan. I won’t tell you unless you promise to act discreetly.” I resume my walk. We’re nearly back up on the second floor when he’s calmed enough to respond.

“Alright, I promise.”

“Macy,” I whisper and wait for comprehension to dawn on his face. It doesn’t.

“Oh, come on! The blond who sits by Arla. Blaine’s wife. Sole’s sister,” I add. His expression doesn’t change. “That’s bad. You don’t even know your own assembly.”

I hope he’s ashamed of himself. I should know better. “That’s the Queen’s job. And I don’t have one. I’ll look for Macy in the morning. I won’t have that going on in my castle. How did you even find out?” he asks.

“She came to Frost asking for help, although I suspected before. She has the look about her. I think it may also be why Sole is so afraid of Blaine, but I’m not entirely sure,” I say.

“Observant.” He strokes his chin making a light rasping sound as he moves over stubble. The stubble which gently scratched my face when he kissed me. We come to a halt outside my door.

He clears his throat. “I apologize for the mother comment earlier.” He pitches his voice low, glancing at the four Watchmen down the hall. I think for a moment he’s talking about
my
mother. But I brought that up, not him.

He’s talking about mentioning his own mother. In such a trivial comment, too. 

My eyes search his face and for the first time I gather the depth of hurt which his mother’s death has left him with. Let alone his father’s. I don’t dare place a consoling hand on his arm. Dealing with Olandon has taught me this much about a man’s pride.

“Don’t be ashamed to talk of her. It’s obvious you loved her very much.” I turn from him to the door and speak over my shoulder, “I’ll leave your tunic by the door. Pervert.”

I jog down to breakfast, eager to watch the show. It’s the morning of the ball and I know the females of the assembly will be causing a commotion. I sneak covert peeks at Jacquiline and Fiona up by the Throne table. Fiona snaps at Sanjay.

I laugh under my breath. It’s just like last time.

“When are you leaving, girly?” Ice says to Crystal.

Crystal’s eyes find me. “I was going to ask Frost if she needed any help with her hair,” she replies.

I look at her dumbly. “I don’t know. Do I?” I ask. Crystal doesn’t say anything, but she appears to be biting back a smile as she nods.

We leave the food hall well after the other females have left. “They’ll probably be doing the whole works. You don’t need make up, so that cuts a lot of time,” she says. A straggling woman overhears and scoffs at her remark.

We move under the archway. Rhone is there. I stop in my tracks as I see who is by his side.

Kaura!

She’s older now, grown – a puppy no longer. She whines, preparing to approach me. Horror dawns. She’s going to give me away. Being as subtle as possible, I hold up my hand in the signal for her to freeze. Kaura responds and sinks back onto her haunches. I force my feet to move again, not daring to let out my held breath, though it happened so quickly it probably just looked like I stumbled.

I look up at Rhone as we pass, careful to keep my expression neutral. His eyes are contemplative. Kaura’s whining increases. I don’t dare signal for her to be silent this close to Rhone.

“It’s rude to stare, you know,” I snarl, going into Frost bitchiness mode.

“Yes, it’s considered rude on both Glacium and Osolis,” he says. I try not to freeze again at his words. What does he mean?

“Well, if you’d like to move sometime today, then maybe we can get past you and your disgusting dog.”

He stands aside, gesturing Kaura to the side. I allow myself one more look at her. My heart pangs. She isn’t disgusting, she’s beautiful. Her chest is snowy-white to match the tips of her ears and her feet. The rest of her is black, except for her cobalt blue eyes.

Which look at me like I’m a traitor.

“Well, that guy was weird. He was looking at you strange,” Crystal says once we round a couple of corners. I’m afraid Jovan is right. Rhone suspects I’m Olina and might have just used Kaura to confirm it. I hope my act put him off the trail.

We detour to the kitchen to get some scissors. I’m not particularly vain about my hair, but I do wonder, fleetingly, if Crystal knows what she’s doing. It must show on my face because she laughs.

“Don’t look so worried. My mother does this for a living,” she says. I didn’t know she still had family. It is a surprise. I just assumed she was orphaned.

We reach my room. Luckily Jovan’s tunic is gone. I’d completely forgotten about it. I smile as my eyes land on a bowl full of pears on top of the bed. I don’t care if they’re a pity prize from Jovan. I rush to the bowl and devour one in record time. It’s only Crystal after all.

“Whoa…you like pears, huh?” She watches me as I remove the last of the juice from my face. I grin at her, too happy to be embarrassed.

“So. I have something to tell you,” she starts, dragging a chair into the middle of the room. I sit on it and start undoing my braid. The hair tumbles down my back. “Hair that falls to your waist is sexy,” she says. “Hair you can nearly sit on - not so much. We’re going to cut it. Let me do my thing and you will look amazing tonight. Stop me, and you’ll look like Avalanche’s chest hair.”

I laugh and close my eyes as she works, only gulping once when she shows me how much she cut off. We talk companionably as she works.

“Here, come look,” she beckons, tugging me toward the mirror. I swallow my uneasiness. I haven’t looked in the mirror once since sleeping in this room. I don’t like seeing my eyes, but also, I’m just not used to looking at myself. I only mean to sneak a quick glance, but my mouth falls open as I see my reflection.

“How did you get it to go around my face like that?” I ask.

“You got your bad-ass fighting skill, I got my bad-ass hair skills,” she says. I hug her.

“Thank you.”

Crystal pulls back and looks at me. We’re the same height. It’s nice not to tilt my head back to talk to someone. The smile drops from my face as I see her serious expression.

“No, Frost. Thank
you
.” She keeps hold of my shoulders. “You saved my life. Whatever you say, none of us would have survived that dome if not for you. And then you gave me my vengeance, too, with Slay. For the first time since I was...raped, I feel like I’m in control again. Like a weight has lifted and I can breathe.” Tears brim over and drip down her face. I don’t think I gave her these things. I think she took them back herself. I have noticed how carefree she’s been with the men lately, but I didn’t make the connection.

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