Page 74 of Heart of Shadows

“Who are you, Harper?” he asked her, swirling the wine around in his fluted glass.

“What do you mean?” she asked guardedly, her attention snapping to him. So close in the dark, Dimitrius was a looming shadow over her, his dark eyes glinting in the sparse light. She fought back a shudder.

“Exactly that. Who are you? Where do you come from? You’re not from Pelenor.”

She winced. Was it that obvious? “I’m not,” she allowed herself to say, crossing her arms. The knife dug into her uncomfortably. “I’m from Caledan.” She looked up at him to see if he knew of it. His expression remained unreadable.

His reply was level. “Caledan is far away. What brings you to this land?”

Harper swallowed. Even now, she did not know how far away she had travelled, nor did she dare ask, for it seemed to be impossibly distant. “I don’t know,” she whispered. She told him of the night she had found the Dragonheart, lost amongst the blizzard-covered forest, and how it had seemingly transported her to Pelenor. Words tumbled out, one after another, and she could not explain why she told him, of all people. It did not feel like revealing anything of value—she was already at his mercy—but if he could give her answers then she might not be clawing in the dark. She clung to that faint hope. To her surprise, he did not question her, though his eyebrows drifted farther up his forehead as he listened.

“When the villagers chased me, I ran as fast as I could. I didn’t know where, but I needed to get away from them. That’s when I bumped, quite literally, into Aedon.” Harper grinned at that—then pinched her lips together, wiping the mirth from her face. She might have told him some of her story, but she would say nothing of Aedon and his friends. It was not lost on Dimitrius.

“You aren’t so surly when you smile, you know. You almost look pleasant,” he offered in an offhand voice. He took a long sip of his wine, holding her in his magnetic gaze.

What a ridiculous statement to make. He lounged there, undoubtedly the most handsome male she had laid eyes on and garnished in finery worth more than her life’s earnings. In contrast, she was what? A dirty peasant from a foreign land? She could have scoffed at him if she wasn’t still so apprehensive of the threat he posed. Harper glowered at him, but he only laughed her away.

“When was this? How long have you been here?”

“You believe me?” An unfamiliar relief hesitantly surfaced.

“Of course.”

“Why?” The relief bloomed, along with curiosity.

“Because it’s not as impossible as it sounds, and you seem like a terrible liar to me. I would be able to tell.”

She raised an eyebrow. He certainly had a high opinion of himself. “Hmph.” When his silence and undivided attention demanded an answer, she continued. “I’ve lost track. I suppose it’s been a few weeks.”

He nodded. “That makes sense. That’s when the stone vanished.”

“From the king’s vaults?” She searched his expression, but it remained frustratingly unreadable.

“Correct.”

“But if you believe me, then the king will, too, right? If the stone brought me here, there must be a way home.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Harper.” Dimitrius’s face closed as he set down his glass upon the stone once more. “I hope for you to never meet the king. He is not a kind elf.”

Harper nodded slowly, but a part of her still refused to believe that all hope was lost. “Then why do you serve him?” she asked, though she already knew the answer. Why did anyone serve the unworthy? She was guilty of it herself, working to sustain the greed of Lord Denholme, like the rest of her countryfolk.

Dimitrius let out a cold bark of laughter. “Why are you poor? Because there is little other choice.”

The back of Harper’s neck pricked at that. “But you hope for better?” Like she did.

He looked her over, coolly, as if evaluating her worth. “Yes.” She sensed he would say little more. She was pushing—and she could feel him closing up.

“Aren’t you little better?” she dared. “You’re the king’s spymaster, are you not?”

Dimitrius’s face darkened. “Have you not realised yet that not all is as it seems? Or are you so naïve that you do not realise people may be far more than they present to the world?”

She subsided, but it did not stop her from wondering who he was and what dark things he did for the king. It sobered her to be reminded of his danger—and the danger she was in, if she displeased him. She did not know him. He had fed her, allowed her to wash. It did not mean he had a shred of decency. And he was most certainly using her for whatever information she had to offer. When he realized she was worth nothing—what then? Harper did not want to think too hard on that.

“Another reason to return to Caledan. I know nothing of this court and its ways.” Nor do I want to.

“Of course, but the king will not be your means to get home. I suppose you have loved ones waiting for you to return? They shall be worried for your absence.”

“No,” Harper mumbled. “Nothing like that. There’s someone I look after. She made sure I survived, so now I’m returning the favour. I think she might be the only person in the world who needs me.” The only person who cares if I’m dead in a gutter or not.

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