Chapter Seven

  Virelya woke before the sun.

  She lay still, afraid that if she moved the world might shift in some other unchangeable way. Was she still the obedient shadow, blindly following orders? Or was she something new?

  She lifted her arm to her face, examining her wrist as if the rune might have changed overnight. The deep black ink wound around itself, a stark contrast against her pale skin. Warmth began to spread as she studied the intricate knots of the tattoo.

  He’s gone.

  She tested the thought. The rune stuttered for a moment, uncertain, then the calm warmth returned.

  The magic was not so alive that it knew she meant he had left, not died.

  She swung her legs off the bed. Her boots were still caked with river mud, some of it fallen onto the blankets as she slept. Her cloak carried the faint smell of river water and moss. The dirt on her knees had dried. Proof. Evidence that yesterday’s events had happened.

  She sighed, running her hands over her face.

  Outside her door the keep was waking; footsteps on stone, someone laughed as they passed, the sound swallowed by distance. Normal, everyday life.

  A soft, almost undetectable knock sounded at the door. She pulled it open to find a small, timid servant girl wringing her hands.

  “Um Master Aethryn… would like to see you in the… um… training yard.”

  The poor girl didn’t meet her eyes before hurrying away down the hall.

  Virelya grabbed her dagger from the side table, slipped it into the sheath, and followed.

  As she stepped into the training yard, she noticed Aethryn was not alone. A petite young woman stood beside him, her leathers immaculate, a pale blonde braid hanging over her shoulder. Eagerness to prove herself seemed to radiate from her.

  “Good morning, my little shadow.” Aethryn smiled warmly.

  The young woman crossed her arms, clearly unhappy to have the attention on someone else.

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  Aethryn reached out and drew Virelya to his side the way one might embrace someone they loved.

  “This is Kaida. She will be a new friend of yours, learning from my very best little shadow.”

  Kaida looked up at him as if he were the sun.

  Virelya felt sick.

  He squeezed her shoulder gently.

  “A demonstration sounds like a wonderful way to start the day, what do you say?” His smile was soft but edged with something sharp. “Show my new little one what it means to be loyal. How it can help her become useful.”

  Virelya felt Kaida’s gaze burn through her at the tender-seeming touch.

  He released her and stepped back, clapping his hands once.

  “Begin.”

  Kaida drew her blade and fell into a stance.

  Something twisted inside Virelya, an unfamiliar tightness she could not name. She shook her head and stepped forward, holding her dagger loosely in her right hand. The rune warmed on her left wrist beneath Aethryn’s pleased grin.

  The girl was very green, and the sparring ended far sooner than Virelya suspected Aethryn had hoped. Kaida lay on her back in the dirt, breathless but uninjured. Virelya held the girl’s blade by the tip, handle offered toward her.

  Kaida reached up to take it back and pulled too quickly, fast enough to slice Virelya’s fingers.

  “Enough.”

  The chill in Aethryn’s voice made Virelya shrink inside.

  “Kaida, return to your rooms. I will be around to speak with you.”

  On her way past, the girl knocked Virelya’s shoulder with just enough force to be deliberate.

  Aethryn approached slowly, hands laced behind his back.

  “My shadow, you fought beautifully… controlled… precise… restrained…”

  Virelya kept her eyes on the toes of her boots.

  He circled her once, his gaze moving over every inch.

  “You showed mercy… an indulgence. One that makes things weaker.”

  He stopped in front of her.

  “You went easy on her.”

  “She’s new. Young. Breaking her now would….”

  “Teach her.”

  Too calm.

  He lifted her chin with two fingers, forcing her to meet his eyes.

  “I have invested so much in you, my little shadow. Years. Patience. Care… love.”

  He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek.

  “Some called me a saint those first years, for putting up with it all. So scared of everything.”

  His grey eyes were almost soft.

  His hand slid down her arm to her wrist, thumb passing over the rune.

  “You will join me tonight for dinner. A dress has been delivered to your room.”

  The rune warmed under his touch, and Virelya’s stomach tightened.

  He smiled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

  “Wear your hair down. I do so love seeing it that way.”

  Then he stepped away in dismissal.

  When Virelya returned to her room, the dress lay on her bed just as Aethryn had said.

  The deep blue silk was beautiful. She ran her fingers over the fabric, soft between them. The sleeves were long and tight at the wrists, the waist cut to fit her perfectly. The neckline would fall just low enough to show the start of her chest. The fabric was thin. Everything with Aethryn had meaning and this thinness was meant to remind her that he could see even the parts she tried to hide.

  She stepped into the bathing room and slipped off her dirt-caked leathers and boots. Sinking into the warmed water the servant had left, she dunked her head under and held her breath.

  It would be so easy to stay there… to let the breath run out and never come up.

  Her lungs tightened. She stayed under a beat longer before breaking the surface.

  As if he would let her go so easily. Aethryn would find the best magical healer in the countryside just to bring her back to him.

  Virelya climbed from the stone tub only after the water had turned cold. She had soaked all the heat into her tired muscles. In the dented mirror her curls fell loosely to mid-back. She stepped into the silk dress and pulled it into place. Of course it fit like a glove.

  She barely recognized the girl staring back at her. The dark circles remained beneath her eyes, but the dress drew attention away from them.

  Wear your hair down…

  Her shoulders dropped. On the table lay the leather ribbon she used to tie back her hair. She stared at it a long moment before picking it up and fastening her hair low at her neck. She returned to the mirror and pulled a few short pieces free around her face.

  A pinch at her left wrist. She flinched and ignored it, slipping on her boots and stepping through the wooden door from her room.