Page 70 of The Shadow Prince's Ruin
Am I only my shadow to him…? After that vow of undying love?
Maybe three days really is too little time to get to know a guy?
Chapter 27
Sylvan
My head feels like a pot being beaten by a metal spoon over and over again. But maybe it’s my stomach that’s the pot, because it’s overflowing, boiling, and I’m vomiting again. I’m half-lucid, and barely remember fragments of what I did at the inn.
Did I really grab Tristan, who is one of the strongest shadow-wielders I know, like a puppet and smash him into a wall? Did I rip his wings off? Fortunately for him, they’re shadow, so he’ll manage to nurture them back to their right form eventually, but still.
“I feel so bad…” I mumble to Hawk, desperate for pity.
We’re in the swamps, the moon is setting as night nears, and the scent of damp earth and leaves, while fresh, does nothing to relieve the violent nausea. I don’t remember how I got here, but Fenren informed me that my new husband carried me all the way from the inn. At least now I can be sure he’s serious about the whole‘till death do us partvow humans use.
The bench we’re sitting on creaks when we move, but it remains solid, and I’m glad I can use the wall of the cabin to lean my back against.
“Why did you drink so much if you can’t handle it?” Hawk asks, watching the ruins of an ancient aqueduct sink in the murky waters. The moon now appears even bigger than it had midday, but soon enough its eye will disappear beyond the horizon, leaving us all in the dark, at the mercy of beasts.
I look up at him, ashamed of my state. We’re outside a cabin in the middle of a swamp. This remote place functions as a safe house for Fenren and his gang of smugglers. The hut is small, damp, and far from what I could at a stretch call ‘charming’, but it has stone walls and it can protect us from most of the wild creatures roaming the area. At least the frogs outside are providing interesting background noise.
“Um… that’s harsh,” I mumble, looking away from the bucket I’m cradling. I must not appear very princely right now. Is it possible that Hawk is rethinking his choice of husband so soon?
He shrugs and covers himself with the threadbare blanket our host offered him earlier. Both our gazes follow a trail of bubbles emerging on the algae-covered surface of the swamp, but while it initially comes our way, the creature creating the disturbance changes direction.
“I’m just surprised,” Hawk says after a moment of silence that feels strangely tense.
Fenren emerges from the hut and huffs with exasperation as he lifts a torch and moves it in a circular fashion. When nothing happens, he utters a curse and returns indoors. We could have gone way farther from the inn, but his daughter needs to catch up with us first, and now it seems inevitable that we will all need to share the tiny dwelling tonight.
I sigh and lean my head against the wall. “I just wanted to let go and be happy at our wedding celebration. I never really drank before, so I thought I was having a reasonable amount.”
He frowns, watching me while the frogs and insects grow ever louder, as if they were warning each other about the upcoming night.
“Are you… a minor here?”
“A minor… what?” I ask, unsure about the change in conversation direction when even talking about the weather feels like a strain on my mind.
Hawk clears his throat and takes a lungful of the cool, root-scented air. “Since elves live so long… are you still too young to have alcohol?”
I groan. Not this again. “No, but I was advised by my mother that because of my stature, it could have an adverse effect, and that I would make a fool of myself. Guess she was right.”
Hawk exhales, and I shudder, because it’s difficult not to interpret the sound as agreement. “You should start slow and get used to it gradually. But I get it, that milky booze was very tasty.”
But something else is on my mind when I notice that one of his fingers is red and swelling. “What happened?” I grab his hand to examine it.
“It’s broken,” he says, flinching when I prod the flesh. “Fenren helped me push the bone in place, but now it’ll take time to heal. Maybe I should find a stick to keep it safe?”
“One of my books features a great recipe for—” I stall, only to shoot to my feet so fast the world spins around me. At least I might be done emptying my stomach for now. “My books! We left everything at the inn, even the m—”
Relief covers me like a warm blanket when Hawk pulls my hand to his chest and I sense the Sunwolf Crown under his coat. “Figured I better keep it on me, since it’s so important,” he says before once again obscuring it with the blanket.
I lean in to hug him, so happy I could cry. I might be able to still recover some of my items from Fenren, but losing the mask would have been a disaster. Our future at court hinges on it just as much as it does on Hawk’s bottomless shadow.
“I love you so much right now.”
He remains quiet as Fenren bursts out of the cabin and cups his hands at his mouth before releasing a strange cry. I’ve seen something similar done during royal hunts, when beast masters imitate the calls of creatures the party is after, but surely, that cannot be Fenren’s goal?
A series of taps resonates over the water in response, and his body language relaxes. “She’s here,” he says and gestures at us to follow him inside. “Come, I brewed some tea.”
