Page 38 of A Legacy of the Light

I nod and take the box she offers me.

“Are you okay? I don’t know what that guy’s problem was,” she huffs, shoving her sandwich in her mouth and chewing angrily.

“I’m okay. Just a bit shaken. I panicked and froze, I guess.”

“Stupid prick. I should have punched him in the throat,” she says around a mouthful.

My lips tip up at the corner and I eat the food given to me without really tasting it. “You didn’t hesitate, though. Thank you for stepping in. I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.”

“General’s daughter, remember. I can whoop arse when I need to!” She mime-punches the air, earning another small smile from me.

“Seelie tend to underestimate me because I’m short,” she shrugs.

I snort and earn a scowl from Reyne.

“Sorry, but I’d be lying if I said that thought hadn’t crossed my mind.”

She pretends to be offended before going back to her sandwich, smiling.

We eat the last of our food in silence, enjoying the tranquility of the view. The enormity of the situation I’ve found myself in washes over me. I’m ready to head back to the palace and get lost in the library. At least I won’t be accosted by random strangers there. My wrist throbs again as I think about what happened and I have to repress a shiver.

We put the takeout containers in the trash and walk back slowly through the quiet streets.

“Was Màiri the princess? The one who died one hundred and fifty years ago?” I ask Reyne.

“Aye. I never met her, obviously, so I don’t know what she looks like. That prick was clearly so drunk he couldn’t tell his arse from his elbow. He’s probably collapsed in a sewer by now,” she assures me, glancing around to make sure no one else looks likely to approach us. General’s daughter, indeed.

Chapter 11

We take a different route back, heading to the palace from the side with the tower of the guards' barracks. A small iron gate is carved into the stone, guarded by two armor-clad Seelie who nod their heads as we pass through.

This part of the grounds is clearly designed for functional use. The courtyard is graveled, and busy with guards and staff. At the far side, jutting from the mountain itself, is a series of stone archways leading to a rectangular space, open to the elements, where guards do their training exercises. To the left of that is the stables.

Reyne points to a large set of arched wooden double-doors in the side of the palace. “That’s the entrance into the kitchens. If you go through there and take the first door on your left, follow the corridor to the end and take a right, you’ll end up back in the central chamber. Can you find your way back from here?” she asks.

“Yes. Thank you for this morning. I’m going to go and see the horses, then I can find my way back.”

She pulls me into a quick, tentative hug then takes my bag from me and tells me she’ll have it taken to my room. She disappears through the door she told me to take, and I head over to the stables.

I’ve always found peace around animals; dogs and horses especially. Mom, Granny, and I would go riding every Saturday until I became a teenager and thought hanging out with them was uncool. The memory of their faces, alight with joy as we galloped through the park, doesn’t hurt like it normally would. It doesn’t burn that hole in my chest where they used to be. What does hit me is a sharp longing to be at home, in a place I’m familiar with, and my family with me.

Each side of the stables is lined with stalls. There are about twenty large enclosures on either side, not all of them full. I wander down slowly, looking into each to see the different horses. I stop three-quarters down, and a dapple-gray mare, speckled with white spots, pokes her head over the stall door. She shakes her head and huffs slightly. I see a bag of feed hanging next to her stall and grab a handful. Holding my hand flat, I let her take the food from my palm, a smile spreading across my face.

“Hey girl,” I whisper, running my hand down her long nose. She’s stunning. Her mane is a shock of bright white, and her brown eyes are locked firmly on mine. I stroke my hand down her nose again and she nudges it to my other hand, which is now empty of food.

“One hand not good enough, huh?” I laugh, and use my other hand, the one the drunk guy grabbed, to scratch down her neck. Tension coils in my shoulders when I see the red marks on my wrist, so I tug the sleeve of my jacket down to hide it.

I close my eyes and rest my forehead against her nose. She nudges me back slightly, and my eyes sting behind my lids.

What am I going to do?

It’s been easy to pretend everything is fine the last twenty-four hours, but the truth is far, far, different. I’ve been slapped in the face with reality today.

I need to learn what I can, be smart, and stay alert. This is not a fantasy novel. This is my life, and I’m being stupid. Despite how wonderful Tavish and Reyne have been, I need to get to know them better before giving them my trust.

There’s no one else in the stables, so hearing the crunch of hay under boots has both me and the horse looking to the wide doors to see who is joining us.

Tavish smiles as he comes over to me. I quickly wipe away the tear that has fallen.