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It saddened me that there would be many more secrets to come that I’d have to keep from them. In the past, it was my whereabouts and idiosyncratic pastimes—chasing wild animals, collecting questionable flora, exploring under porches, reading books I shouldn’t read—that I had kept from them. Those were all literally child’s play compared to the enormity, the audacious reality, of what I’d seen and gone through since I’d last seen them.
“My Lady, which cloak would you like to wear?” Tilly asked, moving out of the wardrobe, where she’d pulled out two cloaks of fur-lined wool in shades of cream.
“Oh. You choose, please.” I smiled at her, looked one more time in the mirror, then grabbed my riding gloves.
“Very well, my lady.” She sounded confused at my ambivalence. Perhaps the queen was more into dressing and fashion than I was. Well, almost any woman was when compared to me.
I glanced out the glass door that opened out onto my balcony and took in the crisp winter scenery. It hadn’t snowed in several weeks, the maid had said, but I could see the starkness of the few trees nearby, naked of leaves, and how the sky looked thin and sharp like glass, as it’s wont to do during the colder months. Snow would be inevitable soon.
A shiver passed through me at the thought of eating lunch outside on such a cold day, until I remembered the cold no longer affected me like it had. The realization made me smile, and I felt like a child again, wanting to explore a wintery land. I had always wanted to play in the snow, to skate on frozen lakes like my father’s friends and their children did, but I would last only as long as my frozen cheeks allowed. Now I didn’t have to worry about that ever again.
Enough dilly-dallying, I said to myself. I took the cloak Tilly offered—I swore they were identical—and draped it over my arm, then headed out past the guards outside my door, down the stairs, and to the main hall, where Lysander waited.
He was facing away from me, offering only his handsome profile. He looked to be in deep thought, almost lost before he noticed I was near and turned around. A smile broke over his face.
“Ready?” he asked.
I smiled back. “I am.”
“Let me get the food.” He walked over a short distance to a table nearby, where a covered basket sat. “I spoke with the headmistress, and she said to just go to the kitchens and seek her out, that she’ll be at your disposal whenever you’re ready.”
“That was kind of her.” I took his proffered arm, and we made our way to the heavy doors that led out onto the courtyard. Now in the daylight, I could see it in full. Cobbled stone ground that shone like polished nickel. People going about their daily business. Horses passing through from the many threads of exits that led to areas I longed to discover.
“About how many people reside here at Goth Mor Helle?” I asked him.
“I’d say a good three hundred or so. Some are still arriving from our last residence.” He waved to a group of Ongahri as we walked under an archway that led to a wide passage.
“That would be from the Aires.”
He looked at me, surprised. “That’s right.”
“I spoke with Orion this morning, and he had mentioned it.”
“Ah.”
My conversation with the healer only reminded me of the topics we had discussed, and I found myself blushing, making me very aware of the arm I was holding. The man beside me would be claiming me in a few days, taking me. A hint of nausea swirled in my stomach.
“What’s wrong?” Lysander looked down at me, slowing our pace.
How did he know?
He smiled. “You are Omega,” he said, reading my expression. “Your scent changed.”
Well, that was something to chew over later, I thought.
“Oh, nothing’s wrong. Just a case of pre-wedding nerves.” I flashed him my best smile, hoping my scent would catch on.
His lips pursed in thought, and he opened his mouth to speak, but shut it quickly. He cleared his throat. “I’d say by this time three months from now, our numbers here will be around five hundred.”
We resumed walking. I figured he didn’t want to discuss Orion either. Maybe he was just as nervous as I was. Somehow, that comforted me.
A few more minutes passed before we got to the royal stables, where Lysander introduced me to his horse, Aspen. The stallion was magnificent. His coat was a red ocher, almost copper, with one lone white stripe that started high between his ears and ended at his nose.
I could feel the pride and love Lysander felt for his mount. It showed me a different side to him, one more alive and real.
“My lord?” a groom asked, making us turn his way.
The man held the reins of a gorgeous gray horse. She was young but a mare nonetheless, with black sooty eyelashes. Her coat was like angora, fuzzy with a crimped mane, and in the light, parts of her took on a bluish tinge.
