Page 36 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

Five nights of searching, and I’m still nowhere closer to finding Mom. There’s no sign of where they’d keep her. But I’m starting to understand the castle’s layout. I’ve learned which servant corridors stay empty, which guard patterns leave gaps, and which routes matter when you don’t want to be seen.

Tonight, I push deeper into the western wing, where thankfully there are fewer servants, but that also means fewer excuses if I’m caught.

I slow when I reach the inner corridor. The passage beyond is sealed, an iron gate drawn across the arch with the latch set. That’s new. Heat rises with the fear that this is because of us. I file it away and keep moving.

Footsteps echo ahead, one person with a steady gait, coming toward me.

My attention flicks between an alcove ten paces up, servants’ stairs twenty behind me, and a door to my right that’s likely locked. The footsteps are getting closer. The servants’ stairs are my best bet, but I might not make it, and being caught running would raise questions I don’t want to answer. The alcove would work if they pass by, but if they stop, if they’re patrolling, I’m trapped.

Which leaves the most dangerous option. Act like I’m supposed to be here and become the version of myself people expect. I straighten and adjust my posture, settling into a calm and unhurried pace.

The figure rounds the corner, and it’s not a guard. It’s Hayes. He’s alone, with no attendants or guards. He sees me, and I watch him register that I’m alone in the west wing at night.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I say, keeping my voice even.

“Neither could I,” Hayes says after a moment.

“Too much on your mind?” I offer before he can question what I’m doing here.

“Something like that.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“I find staying still makes it worse,” I say. “Need to move or the thoughts just circle.”

His gaze lingers a fraction too long. “Exactly.”

The silence stretches between us; it’s not uncomfortable, but I shouldn’t stay.

“I’ll leave you to your thoughts,” I say with a small smile, starting to step past him.

Hayes hesitates, and I can see the unguarded exhaustion on his face. “Would you…” He pauses. “Would you want to walk with me?”

It’s phrased like a question, but there’s something almost vulnerable in how he asks. The pull to keep moving is sharp, but saying no would draw attention.

Relief crosses his face, brief but unmistakable.

We start walking side by side, maintaining a careful distance. He leads us toward the southern corridor and out into the gardens.

“I come out here most nights,” Hayes says quietly. “When I can’t sleep. The gardens are…quieter than the rest of the castle.”

“Fewer people watching,” I say, understanding the relief that only comes from going unnoticed.

He glances at me. “Exactly,” he says, almost to himself.

The night air hits cool against my skin, and some of the heat bleeds off. The gardens sprawl before us with lanterns scattered along the paths, too open for comfort. We walk in silence. Hayes’s shoulders have dropped slightly, like the night air has given him permission to breathe.

“Thank you for walking with me,” he says after a while, and there’s no arrogance in it.

“It’s fine. I couldn’t sleep anyway,” I say lightly.

We walk deeper into the gardens. Hayes glances at me once, then looks ahead.

I give in. “What keeps you up?”

Hayes is quiet for a moment, like he’s deciding how to answer. “Making sure I fulfill my role properly,” he finally says. “That I represent the crown to the best of my ability.”

For tides’ sake.

“No one’s here who needs to hear that version,” I say with a soft laugh.