Page 4 of Tethered In Blood

2

Eden

THESUNHUNGlowin the sky, casting long shadows across the land. Its dying light washed the castle in amber, violet, and crimson hues. The white stone gleamed beneath it, creating a stark contrast against the darkening sky. Its towers pierced the evening haze like silent sentinels. The pristine walls stretched high. It was a fortress built for protection and power—a symbol of the monarchy that ruled within.

The road to the gate was quiet, save for the distant murmur of the city behind me. A scent of damp stone and fresh-cut hay lingered in the air, mingling with the faint traces of burning oil from the torches lining the outer walls. Beneath it all was the aroma of steel, blood, and the weight of expectation.

Two knights stood at the entrance, clad in polished armor that captured the last glimmers of sunlight. The metal was delicate, not gaudy, just intricate enough to remind one that even the lowest castle guards stood well above those outside these walls. They held practiced, unmoving postures, their stillness born from familiarity. This was their usual post, and the boredom of routine had settled into them.

A strange sensation coiled in my stomach when I paused before them. I had come this far, but as I stood before the castle and gazed at the imposing gate, the unknown bore down on me.

I didn’t belong here. The courts of Aurelith were for the refined, well-bred, and well-groomed—not for a girl with scars concealed beneath layers of frayed and muddy cloth. Nor for someone who had learned to heal out of necessity, not luxury.

An impatient grunt jolted me from my thoughts.

One knight shifted. The other turned his head. The metal of his helmet glinted in the dim light as he regarded me.

I schooled my expression into a harmless smile that masked sharp edges. “Must be boring, standing there all day like that,” I greeted, tilting my head. “Do they at least let you blink?”

A long sigh echoed from the knight on the left, his vexation palpable even through the metal. He didn’t move, didn’t react beyond that drawn-out breath. But the knight on the right’s gaze flickered. Through the slit of his visor, emerald-green eyes narrowed on me. “State your business, commoner.”

Commoner.As if I needed the reminder.

My fingers tightened against my cloak. The fabric restrained me while I swallowed the sharp retort that threatened to emerge. The weight of my satchel dug into my shoulder and reminded me why I was here, the proof that I had something to offer beyond my bloodline.

I lifted my chin and met the knight’s gaze with defiance. “I am here about the herbalist position.”

The knight to the left let out a long, weary sigh, as if he had decided that this was a waste of his time. “Another one.”

The knight before me shifted his weight, and his eyes, sharp despite the barrier of his helm, once again locked onto mine. “Do you have proof?” His voice held a slight edge, not quite impatience, but close. “Too many have been seeking the position in the past few days.”

A gentle breeze stirred the air, carrying the aroma of frosty stone and the lingering smoke from the torches above. The last rays of sunlight reflected off the knight’s polished pauldrons and gilded the metal in a fading golden glow before the shadows crept in.

“Our people have work to do,” he continued. “Don’t waste their time.”

I held his gaze, refusing to waver. “Of course.” From my satchel, I retrieved the folded parchment—the Court Herbalist Needed notice—along with my journal. This was my proof: not just charcoal on parchment, but experience.

I straightened and extended my hands, keeping them steady. Let them think what they wanted of me. The words on those pages held more importance than any assumptions they had about who I was.

His helmet darkened in the fading light as the sun dipped below the horizon. I couldn’t determine the point of his stare, yet I felt his eyes on me as the heavy silence settled between us. After a few slow breaths, he reached out. His gauntleted hand closed over the journal and lifted it from my grasp with a gentle, almost weightless touch. The parchment whispered as he skimmed the notes, the pressed herbs, and the sketches.

He lifted his head. “These are yours?”

“Yes.”

His fingers lingered on the edge of a page. The leather of his glove brushed against an old ink stain I had tried and failed to scrub clean. He snapped the journal shut with a decisive movement and handed it back. The other knight, who had shown no interest until now, turned his gaze to watch him. Perhaps curious about what had made him pause.

I took the journal from his outstretched hand and slipped the flier inside, folding my hands over it and pressing them against my waist. The cool leather felt soothing and prevented my mind from wandering further into doubt.

“You are to go straight to the infirmary,” he said. His tone was as firm as before, though it was now less detached and more deliberate.

He rattled off directions, a series of turns and hallways I was expected to follow. The words blurred. My focus shifted between the overwhelming weight of the moment and the looming gates that separated me from whatever awaited inside. When he stopped, I nodded.

Glancing at the other knight, he turned and raised a hand in silent command. The heavy gates groaned as the guards pulled them open, the iron hinges echoing in the evening air. Beyond, the castle loomed taller, its archways swallowing the last sliver of light.

The gates groaned shut behind me, sealing me within the castle’s hold. The path stretched ahead, winding toward the grand archway, its stones darkened by shadow. The remaining traces of snow, thin but stubborn, crunched softly under my boots, the sound swallowed by the vast silence pressing in from all sides.

Thick clouds concealed the moon, offering only fleeting glimpses of silver light breaking through the shifting veils of darkness. It cast pale, fractured beams across the yard that caught in the delicate frost clinging to the iron railings and the sculpted stone of the castle walls. The crisp, cold air nipped at my exposed skin, curling in soft, ghostly wisps with each breath I took.

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