Page 122 of Of Shadows and Blood

“Yes, but your transport arrives next week. The ports in Duresden are essentially closed because of military movement.” Sawyer looks away from me on his last word, a somber look crossing his features.

I pick up on his choice of words.

“You— You’re not coming with,” I state, realization dawning. This won’t derail my plans and I am not surprised, yet a part of me feels this is not his decision. The tension, the avoidance since I’ve arrived.

He nods tersely. “No, no I am not.”

I return the gesture, rubbing my hands on my dress. “I see.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Liv,” he begins.

“Just promise me my safe passage.”

“Stay at the manor. You will have your freedom soon, Liv.” Sawyer exits the parlor and I am left seated, speechless.

Nothing has made sense since I opened my eyes for the first time in that infirmary room. Sawyer is not Sawyer. The village, our relationship, Liv’s life, it was all a figment of my imagination. A trapped reality, a false home to keep me busy during my coma.

And the closest thing to home that I found was at Demis. But I can’t go back there, and I am resolved in that ache that hollows itself out a pit in my stomach.

Sawyer’s guest arrived a few hours ago but I have stayed hidden away in my room.

My mouth aches for blood, not yet satiated by the breakfast from this morning, so I pad out of my room softly. No servants are nearby and I release a breath of air before heading down to the parlor. Sawyer and his associate are nowhere to be found, so I quickly ask a servant for a small pour.

“Where is the prince?” I ask when they return with the chalice.

The small, wiry woman before me motions down the hall. “His bureau, my lady.”

With new energy, I nod in thanks and head to the room. The village in passing looked quaint and I am eager to get fresh air. To see some more of the world I want to ensconce myself in. But Sawyer asked me to go with an escort, so that is what I shall do.

A male of average height and short dirt-colored hair sits behind the desk looking at some paperwork – at least that is what I can see from the crack in the door.

“Liv, you may enter,” Sawyer says without looking up.

“My apologies, I did not mean to interrupt.” I curtsy lightly to the guest who looks at me as if he is examining me. Sawyer closes a ledger with papers stuffed inside and motions for me to sit. The new male stands, bows slightly at his waist, and begins to pace the room.

“Elivienne,” Sawyer says, emphasis on my true name. It is off-putting but I cannot figure out why he would choose to use it now. We have not since I arrived, even around the servants. “This is Killian.”

“Hello,” I say, taking a cup of blood from Sawyer. Killian says nothing, just smiles eerily with narrow eyes.

I clear my throat after drinking a small amount of the heavy pour of blood. “I was wondering if I could take some leave today.”

“Leave?” Sawyer asks, shifting in his seat. Killian looks over abruptly, like an owl.

“Can I go into the village today? Hybad.”

He moves his jaw around, his face unreadable. I do, however, notice the way he grips his pen tightly. I stay firm, sitting tall.

Right before I feel like I’ve lost this conversation before it began, Sawyer speaks. “Why ever would you want to do that?”

“For starters,” I say as I stand up and run my fingers along the polished wooden desk, making my way to Sawyer. “I feel claustrophobic. With no ladies or court to entertain me, I think I should explore.”

Since my arrival yesterday, I’ve kept to the manor. Here, I don’t have ladies that follow me around. The manor staff is much, much smaller than that of Demis. There are the few occasional servants but they keep scarce.

“We could accompany you on a walk if that is what you require. Ladies are fickle things, Sawyer,” Killian speaks up and I don’t miss his nervous twitches. His eyes are blood red and boots muddy, which means he rode here from the city.

“No, I don’t think that is necessary, Kill,” Sawyer replies for me.

“As I was saying,” I say, trying to hide my annoyance, “I understand your work here is busy. But my mind feels like it spent an eternity at a decrepit farm that doesn’t exist. I need to experience.”