Page 83 of Reign of Light
He takes my hand and rests the other on the pommel of his sword. Tension roils through his shoulders as he assesses the alley, determining it is safe enough for us to proceed through.
Light still brightens the thick grey clouds that blanket the sky, but I can tell night is coming. We step out onto a main road, and thewalkways are bustling with people, who are no doubt heading home to prepare for their evening meal. Weston’s hand stays tightly wrapped around mine as we walk in pace with the crowd, my body firmly tucked to his side.
Despite how conspicuous I feel walking through the streets among my people, no one spares me a glance. They are probably used to seeing staff from the castle walking home or to a tavern in the evening, but it still feels foreign to me, especially after being gone. Unsurprisingly, Weston draws the eyes of people passing by. If it weren’t for his towering frame and clenched jaw, his gaze darting everywhere, assessing everything, he might not look out of place compared to the casual calm of everyone around us.
“It all looks the same. It feels like I never left,” Weston murmurs as his eyes scan the road before we turn onto it and continue our winding walk through the city.
The buildings and roads are familiar from back when I took some time to wander and try to see more of the city on my own. The square where I spent most of my time is ahead, and a small part of me wishes I could go inside the library, even if it is only for a few minutes.
“The first time I ever saw it was only a few weeks before I came to Dawnlin. I barely know my own city, let alone my kingdom.”
“You will,” he says, glancing down at me briefly before continuing his watch of our surroundings. “In the meantime, I can tell you stories.”
I make a face. “I much prefer Jorn’s stories. I am not particularly interested in hearing about your nights out in the city and all the women vying for your attention.” I catch the smirk on his lips as my eyes trail up and down his body, my mind still trying to get used to this First Guard version of Weston. I’ve never had reason to take a second glance at the guard uniforms before, but now that I see him in one, I can imagine how he feels about ballgowns, and why he had so many women seeking his attention. The way the fabric molds across his shoulders and strains over chest is enough to make clear the strengthof the man beneath. It would intimidate any man, and entice any woman, and my mind flashes with images of what it would be like to take it off him.
Now is not the time for that. We have bigger issues to confront first.
He chuckles softly. “Those were not the stories that came to mind, but jealously looks good on you.” I scowl up at him as we round a corner, but he ignores it, his smirk unrelenting. We halt, stepping to the side off the walkway so others can continue to pass by.
“See that archway over there?” he says, pointing across the street.
“Yes?” I’ve passed that archway before, but noticed nothing particularly interesting about it. It’s just a stone structure marking the entrance to a different part of the city.
“Your mother was walking through that archway when your father first saw her. He couldn’t get across the square fast enough.” His body turns until he’s pointing to the side of it. “I stood just over there while they talked. When she left, he wanted to follow her, but he was afraid of scaring her off.”
My throat constricts. I’d been so absorbed in my lack of experience in my own kingdom that I never considered a truth that Weston just made so obviously apparent. My mother lived here. Pieces of her are all over this city, and Weston knows many of them. More than that, he didn’t hesitate to tell me the story, unlike everyone else who hid all knowledge and memory of her from me until the moment Edmond handed me her diary.
I gulp down the large lump in my throat, my voice hoarse when I speak again. “What else?”
“Over there?—”
“Excuse me, Addy?”
A familiar voice interrupts Weston, and my head swivels toward it in the same moment that he shifts, his body angling in front of me as he assesses this stranger who has stopped in front of us.
Though she’s not a stranger. Not to me.
“Estelle,” I say with a breath of relief, but despite my familiarity, Weston doesn’t relax at all. I’m surprised to see her, especially since I’ve never interacted with her outside of the library. I was not expecting to see anyone I knew beyond the castle grounds, and, surprisingly, even with my hood drawn low over my face, she still recognized me.
Her gaze slides to Weston beside me, taking in his uniform and his protective stance, and no doubt realizing he isn’t Dane, before she turns her attention to me once more.
“Is your apprenticeship going well?” she asks kindly.
My brows furrow, trying to think back to whether I had ever lied directly to her about working on the castle grounds. “Apprenticeship?”
Confusion taints her expression. “It had been so long. I thought you must be working as a healer now, or at least in the middle of your training.”
“Oh,” I stammer. “Yes, I mean, no. I’m not in an apprenticeship yet. Maybe someday soon.”
“Ah.” She nods, and a knowing smile turns her lips as she looks between Weston and me. “I see. Well, I thought an apprenticeship was the most likely culprit keeping you occupied and away from the library over the past year, but…” Her smile widens at Weston. “I’m sure there are many good reasons for you to be away.”
I balk at her.
The past year.
I shake my head slightly, my eyes clinching shut before opening to meet hers again. “I’m sorry, how long did you say it has been?”
“Oh, it’s probably closer to two at this point. This old head has too much about books in it to remember specific dates. There may have been days I missed you as well, but I haven’t seen you or the other gentleman friend of yours in quite some time.”
