Page 43 of Winter Gods & Serpents

Sigh. Was this what all of that was about? “There was nothing to end.”

“She doesn’t think so, her shadows should be of a broken heart or at least some resent. She has liked you since we were children, yet I see, well that,” he pointed with his head and I turned to Nesrin who gave me a smile.

How was he right. I’d spoken to her a few days ago, she’d seemed convinced when I told her that I was not interested. I scratched my head confused.

“She is not an Empath, this time you might need to actually tell her, especially if she is still warming your bed.”

“You are too invested in this, it's concerning.”

“Your love life however grim has always been entertaining. Thank Henah you’re an Aura or you might have never understood a woman.”

“Have I been lenient on your duties that you have this much time to fluff around?”

“Good sir, I take back my words,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “Do not send me to Sitara, I cannot rub the stench of those creatures from the dark sea for days. Just like you can’t rub of your arrogance and that stiff spine.”

I exhaled a frustrated breath. “Grey might need help there after all, you leave after this trial. Maybe you will not need to face them, you might just annoy them away.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Very low of you brother, so very low.”

It was low, but Mal provoked all sorts of low from me. “And she is not warming my bed.”

“Then who is? I swear I saw someone by your quarters the other day,” he pushed, eager for an answer.

“She is not the only woman in Adriata, and you think your brother a fool as to bed the daughter of a councillor? There was no one, not for a while.” Not the daughter of the one who had most spite for me anyway, not anyone for that matter even if I forced myself. “It was a healer, from Asra. For…your mother. She came to discuss a new treatment she’d been working on for Driada’s sickness.” Several days a week, the healer came after she’d tested medication for Driada’s lung disease and then each time she’d break the news it had not worked. This time was different, there was progress, but I could not build Mal’s hopes to be crushed again, it was all he had.

“Poor Nesrin,” he chuckled beside me. “And thank you.”

The gates opened, the tower stood as large as an arena, it had no ceiling, and the walls ran feet high creating deep shadows in the room. Three men, two barely above their teens and another who looked like their father were on their knees, hands tied. Backed by the tower wall, four soldiers in Isjordian blue uniform stood solemn with hands on the hilts of their swords. At the other side a young man and woman were positioned the same, her stomach was large meaning she had not far to go till birth, so there were five not four caught. Another life to beg for, my eyes closed at the thought.

Behind them stood two figures dressed both in the Isjordian uniform, but theirs was darker, a navy blue and a golden circlet on top of their chest pocket. Their faces strong without expressions.

My eyes glistened, magic floated freely through my body and clouds of colourful mist rose around each person in the room. I had been part gifted with blessings of an Empath, one who could read emotion though as words.

Deep burgundy surrounded the girl, a familiar feel crept upon me. She dressed in old pain and anger muted with creeping panicking fear she hid terrifyingly well, but the man next to her, a pale grey shadow circled his head, he was merely bored.

They both turned to look at us, distaste in their eyes and their shadows turned green.

“Are we waiting for something?” Mal asked, unsure why everyone was so still.

The girl cast him a swivelling glare at him before she replied, “She should be here any moment, your eagerness shall fade soon enough.”

“So hostile and joyless,” my brother murmured a tease beside me.

“Not the moment, Mal,” I said, examining the fearful Adriatians in their hold. The heavy shadows almost cowering for shelter. Even remnant shadows of the dead that roamed the tower swirled around in distress before fleeting. There was something wrong.

Within seconds later the doors on their side of the wall flung open. Tall, long obsidian hair floating like dark sky of silk, eyes glistening gold chips of amber fire, her features soft and full, crafted gracefully to fit together and at the right side of her face a scar stretched down her jaw. Beautiful. Her presence radiated of something otherworldly, her movement almost unnatural—predatory even, it felt as if we had stepped in her hunting ground. I’d never seen her before and still the hair on my neck rose at her steps.

The four Isjordian guards clicked their feet and bowed in unison to her. Few steps away a massive black cat-like creature followed her growling in our direction, nestling near the tower gate, it monitored the captains every move. At every flicker of noise, its muscles shifted ready to pounce.

“Well, well, well,” her voice melodic as she examined the Adriatians kneeling on the floor. “The trap must have been big. I have five large plump mice in my hold.”

“Hells, not her,” Nesrin murmured beside me.

Her eyes flickered towards us and she innocently tilted her head to my captain. “I see you have grown fond of me Nesrin, but your presence again is most unnecessary, surely wasting your precious time, they were caught on Isjordian soil. The decision is ours to make.”

My captain only swallowed repeatedly in unease, her gaze drifting to the ground. Why had Nesrin grow so uneasy at her sight?

“We will stay,” I answered.