Page 28 of Crown of Roses
“We won’t.” He was so certain. So confident.
Maeve peered up at him and tried to read his somber expression. But shadows and light played tricks on the eyes, so she questioned him instead. “How can you be so sure?”
He didn’t look at her. Instead he continued to keep his eyes on the inky night, where the sky and the sea bled into one another. “Because I’ve been to Faeven before.”
“What?” Maeve reared back. “When?”
“Before the Evernight War.”
Maeve knew he was without a soul. His very existence was shackled to Carman. After all, it hadn’t taken her long to realize he never aged. In all her twenty-four years, his appearance had changed in just as many days. She supposed she had never taken the time to calculate his true age. She didn’t know he’d been alive during the Evernight War. Or that he’d been to Faeven.
“It was a while ago. Another life, really.” He turned, leaned into the railing and let his head tip back to face the sky. His deep brown skin glowed like the polished amber in the moonlight. “Parts of Faeven are dangerous. But other areas are enough to make you want to live there forever, to never want to leave.”
“Will you tell me about them?” She used to love his tales of adventures growing up. She remembered after a long day of training, they’d walk down the Ridge to one of the docks along the Gaelsong Port to cool their skin and sometimes their tempers. There, he would tell her stories of his battles fought, his wars won, and everything in between. Faeven, oddly enough, he never mentioned.
“Sure.” Casimir settled into himself, just as he’d done so many years ago. Resting his elbows on the railing, he crossed one ankle over the other and let the weight of the world fall away. “I’ve only ever been to the Spring Court. It’s beautiful. Lush and green. Everything is blooming. Flowers. Plants. The days are warm and the nights are cool. There’s a river that runs through Suvarese, the Crown City. When the sunlight hits it, it shines in hundreds of colors. Sometimes it will rain for what seems like forever, anything from a downpour to a sprinkle. When this mist rolls in from off of the Lismore Marin…I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Sounds magical.” Maeve imagined such a place was magnificent. A rainbow-hued river? She would love to wander in a world where it was constantly springtime. The mere thought of it made her heart sigh. “How long were you there?”
“Long enough.” His voice was strange. There was a stiffness to his tone. Words he’d locked away, never to speak of again.
She tried a different angle. “Why were you there?”
“That’s a long story.” He shook his head and glanced down at her with a sympathetic smile. “From a long time ago. Before…”
“Before what?” she prodded.
“Just before.” He pushed up from the railing, morphing out of the role of obliging protector and back into the frame of fierce warrior. “I’m speaking with Aran tomorrow. In the morning. You should be there, too.”
It wasn’t a command, exactly. But it was definitely a pushy request. “What, like a meeting?”
“You could say that.” Casimir adjusted his black hood and flipped it up over his head. “He has a particular talent for map-making.”
“Map-making?” Maeve thought of all the maps she’d seen hanging on the walls of the library, and the ones tied up with red ribbon for purchase from quaint little gift shops in Kells. She knew the layout of Veterra by heart. She knew where the borders of each kingdom blurred, where the capitals were situated, but a map of Faeven would be a treasure. “What sort of maps?”
“I don’t know how to describe it, exactly. You’ll have to see them for yourself.” His tone shifted and his shoulders bunched, an imperceptible movement to almost anyone. Except Maeve. He was hiding something. “I saw some of his work earlier when I asked him about where he plans on dropping us off.”
“And what did he say about that?” Irritation was beginning to claw its way to the surface of Maeve’s calm exterior. She didn’t care to be excluded from important conversations. She didn’t like how Casimir was taking charge of every situation, not when they’d spent the better part of her life making those decisions together.
Another barely noticeable shift in his demeanor. “He’s going to drop us off in Niahvess. It’s positioned on the sea for an easy escape if necessary, and the Archfae there are fairly neutral when it comes to humans.”
“What’s Niahvess?” Maeve found she enjoyed the way it rolled off her tongue, like some exotic locale.
“It’s the Crown City of the Summer Court.”
“Is it safe?”
“More or less.”
Not really a reassuring answer, but she’d take it. She pieced together everything she knew so far. They were being transported to the Summer Court by Aran, who was a Dorai. His reasons for being a Dorai were still a mystery to her, but she had a feeling she would find out at some point during their travels. Niahvess was the Crown City of Summer, and the safest place for them to enter Faeven.
Everything else was just a guess. An unknown. A lingering omen of their fates.
Casimir gestured toward the arched doors that opened up into a glinting hall of crimson walls and dark wood flooring. “You should get some rest.”
“Why does everyone keep telling me that,” she muttered.
“What?”
