Page 51 of Beyond Those Gilded Walls

Zaharya caught my eye. “Be careful, Odyssa.”

I nodded once, turning to escape the room and the uncomfortable stares of Elena and Talyssa. At least Maricara had not been there.

I’d been expecting him to be waiting for me outside the kitchens, as he had last night, to escort me to his rooms, so his presence further down the hall was far from surprising. What had my steps faltering now was that he was not alone against the wall.

My luck had run out, it seemed, as Maricara was with him, her veil gone and barely a sliver of space between them as she looked up at him and twirled a strand of hair around her finger. He said something, too quiet and too far away for me to make out, but whatever it was had her tossing her head back in a laugh and then she was touching him. One hand gripped his forearm and the other pressed against his chest as she leaned in closer and replied.

A flood of emotions washed over me, sending a ringing through my ears as my hands clenched into fists. My face blazed and the urge to run away and cry coiled in my stomach, heavy and sour. Anger and shame, both two emotions I was familiar with.

I had no right to the anger; Tallon could spend his time with whomever he pleased and I had no claim to him.

The shame was a product of my own foolishness, of letting his games mess with my mind and trick me into thinking I was of some import to him.

I was nothing to him. A bargain at best, and a plaything at worst.

Perhaps it was good to see this; perhaps he had intended for me to. After the kiss in his bed, perhaps this was his way of informing me that something like that would not happen again.

I wanted to say that it would never happened again, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t deny that despite knowing how utterly foolish it was, I’d enjoyed his lips and his body pressed against mine, and that if given the chance, I’d do it again. Consequences for myself be damned.

Consequences for my brothers, on the other hand, was a far different matter.

Regardless, I had no claims to the anger and shame burning through me, and I needed to remember that. The gash in my hand had mostly healed, though by all accounts of my health after the fever had wrought my body, it should still be festering and sore, but yet, it brought clarity when I pushed my thumb into the wound.

Hands behind my back and my thumb digging into my palm as hard as possible, I ventured down the hall.

Maricara leaned back slightly as I approached, her lip curling up in a sneer. Tallon’s eyes widened briefly beneath the mask as they met mine, but he made no move to step away from her.

I inclined my head in polite greeting and bit my tongue until I was able to turn the corner at the end of the hall. I wanted to slump against the wall, but Tallon was too close still. Retreating to my room was foolish; Tallon would eventually come looking for me, and the last place I wanted him to be after spending time with her was in my bedroom.

Cold brushed against my ankle. The cat looked up at me, an expression that could only be classed as pity etched in its feline features. I slowed to a stop, feeling the irrational anger begin to rise to the surface once more.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I hissed. I did not want anyone’s pity, least of all that of Tallon’s pet Soulshade. “If you want to help, show me to somewhere I can be left alone until he decides he’s finished.”

The cat blinked at me, and then offered the equivalent of a shrug that no normal cat could have done. I fell into step behind it easily, letting it guide me through the halls. Tallon’s games were a mystery to me, and while I wanted to believe the moment I’d interrupted tonight was one of Maricara’s machinations to remind me of my place among them, I could not dismiss that it was one of Tallon’s either.

Chewing on my lip, I hardly looked to see where the cat was taking me, and that blind trust startled me out of my thoughts. I was following a Soulshade cat through a castle that had previously proven detrimental to my health and safety, and I had no problems with doing so.

The cat looked back over its shoulder at me, slowing.

If it had wanted to hurt me, it would have done so long before now, I reasoned. This cat had been the only creature that consistently offered comfort and support, and I selfishly didn’t want it to leave me. Wrong and grotesque as it was, it was the only friend I had here, and the only friend I’d had anywhere in a very long time.

I shook my head. “I’m fine. Continue.”

We resumed our trek through the castle, stopping at a familiar set of doors. The library. I smiled slightly as I pushed open the doors. I hadn’t known where it was going to take me, but as I inhaled the weathered parchment and old leather, I was glad the cat had chosen here.

“Thank you,” I whispered as I closed the doors behind me. It curled around my ankle in response before leaving to hop up on the bench in the large window bay.

It felt wrong, being here in this exuberantly stocked library, but I would relish what little comforts I could find in this place. Still, I refrained from pulling any books down from the shelves, though I desperately wanted to. I’d not been able to read for my own enjoyment in years, since I’d been a child. But these were not my books, and given the way the walls held their secrets, I would be remiss to assume the library was benign.

I settled into the window seat with the cat, looking out over the rest of the castle and the rooftops of the city beyond. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet, and the morning was still in that sleepy, quiet time when not even the birds would be awake—if there were birds remaining in Veressia, that was. In another life, one not smothered by red mist, it would have been peaceful. Now, it was solemn.

The sun had finally shown its face between the valley and the far expanses of the mountains when the doors to the library slowly creaked open. I held my breath as I stared at the door, waiting to see who would enter. I hoped it was Tallon, because if it was anyone else, I would be dead before the sun rose over the mountain peaks.

My shoulders slumped as his face appeared in the crack between the doors. He still had his mask on, but I could see the odd look on his face and knew the pinch of his brow had formed to accompany the frown. He jerked his head towards the hall, an instruction for me to follow.

Despite the irritation that prickled at the command, I followed him out of the library. Our journey to his room was silent, save the sound of our steps against the stone. I hated the silence, yet could not bring myself to break it. Every word that passed through my mind was still tinged in either red or green, and I feared what response it would evoke.

Once in his room, I watched from just inside while he closed the door tightly behind us, carefully hung up his coat on the hook beside the entryway, and pulled off the mask, adding it to the hook beside the coat. He’d still not uttered a single noise as he stepped up in front of me and took my injured hand, pulling it palm up and examining it.

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