The Shadows Have No Face || 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑

Weighing the Odds of Staying and Going

I woke with the sun that shone through the east facing window right onto my bed. The light always burned my eyes and shoved me out of the warm sheets in an attempt to avoid ruining my sight. I had been living in this guest room for almost two weeks now, slowly being given more access to the surrounding city. It started small, with being able to exit the House, then to me being able to walk the city streets. Now all I needed to see was that townhouse everyone kept disappearing to.

I understood it, this caution around me. From what I've heard of their past, the Inner Circle had a history of being betrayed. Not that I would be stupid enough to try something like that. I knew how powerful the High Lord was, and his mate. Anyone who ever tried to oppose them, I thought, was completely brainless.

I went about the room doing my normal morning routine of hygiene and exercise in an attempt to keep my sanity while being stuck in the repetitive walls of the House of Wind. These moments alone—in the quiet time most still slept through—was where I was most connected with myself. And my past.

The routines of those centuries stuck like glue, and it was hard not to remember the countless early mornings training with the others in total darkness and silence beneath the rumbling tower, just waiting for the switch of guards. The thousands of twisting steps that left you dizzy at the top. The sun that baked your skin and made your lips dry. Above all, though, was the silence. We were bound to silence until promoted. For decades, no one said a word.

Maybe that is why I always seemed to revert back to silence. It was some shadow of trust to my life, a sturdy looking wall. Of course, walls don't stand forever. I had gotten so used to all this noise that now, silence was terrifying. How could I have trusted the quiet for so long, only to now fear it?

I walked into the kitchen, expecting it to be empty as usual. From what I gathered over my time spent here purely observing; the General was either training or on his way to check in on me, and the Morrigan still had three hours of sleep before even the idea of waking would be considered. And since the Spymaster wasn't in kitchen avoiding his brother, he was pronounced missing the rest of the day. So it was just me.

The morning air was crisp and chilled. Frost covered the hills falling into the city below. A city that was just as alive as it was last night. Clouds hung high above, scattered across the sky.

The ground looked ready to sprout spring, even though winter still came in from the north. The buds of wildflowers poked from the scattered grass. The trees looked fuller under the bark, preparing to leaf-out again. The solstice hadn't even arrived yet, and nature was already straining to sprout.

Plants were always so eager to run into life, without paying attention to the world around them. I knew already they would all die again, and have to wait another week until they were allowed to resurface again. Then it would be spring.

Spring... and the anniversary of my escape. If it wasn't already clear—I hated that time of year. But I had no control over the seasons. Such an unfortunate loss.

I tried not to notice when someone walked into the kitchen, and pretended to be lost in the view. My tea was just starting to cool enough to drink, the steam wrapping around my face as I lifted the mug to my lips. Ginger and lemon, with a splash of honey to sweeten it. Even though I wasn't a fan of sweet things.

I was not going to give in to temptation and ask why the Spymaster was at the House when—last I checked—he was in the Illyrian mountains for business. It was a slice of knowledge I wasn't supposed to have—but I couldn't help but overhear him and the General discussing it in the hallway earlier this week.

It's not my fault the walls are so thin—which made no sense, because they were carved from the literal mountains stone. It would be a long shot to say the House liked me enough to let me listen in. I assumed I was just in the right place to hear it.