Bedelth the Orange (Dragonwall Series #5)

Chapter 34 - Clearing the Air

Kastali Dun

Jeanine found the hilt of her sword as she spun on her heel, confronting the darkness beyond...and the shadow that had been tailing her. Her eyes narrowed. She sighed, relaxing her grip. "You're following me," she said. Not a question—not really. She should not have been surprised, after all.

The shadow shifted, moving into the light. Prince Feowen, still in his armor, moved closer, turning to lean casually against the wall. "Was I that obvious?" He almost sounded bored, but she knew better. Even when they were alone, he often hid his emotions behind casual or playful words.

"You aren't unintentional, Feowen." Like all Sprites, he was a master of stealth when he wanted to be. He'd made his actions obvious on purpose. He'd wanted her to know that he was following.

She willed her shoulders to relax, willed her stomach to untie itself. That didn't happen. She'd been tied up, twisted tight, since the news of the impending attack had come. What should have been a beautiful time, the celebration of a king and queen coming together, a celebration of love and the welcome of a new age, was tarnished, marred by impending danger.

She felt that danger, like claws digging into her skin, gripping her tight.

"You've been sneaking out of the castle," Feowen pointed out. "At first, I thought nothing of it. Curiosity got the better of me." He shrugged, again, casual.

"You could have just asked," she muttered. Truthfully, she'd hoped he wouldn't notice.

"Ah, but where is the fun in that?"

"If you must know, I'm looking for Jahl."

"Oh, I know."

She hesitated, then frowned. "Well, then." She turned on her heel, carrying on down the street towards the edge of the city. She'd been casually searching guardhouses around the city since arriving in Kastali Dun. She didn't want to ask outright. The gods only knew it would have saved her time. Time she rarely got to herself, especially now.

"You are going in the wrong direction," came Feowen's deep, lyrical voice.

She stopped and let out a sigh, staring straight ahead as she said, "You know where he is, don't you?"

The sound of his footsteps squelching in the mud signaled his approach. He stopped beside her, mirroring her stance, then smirked that infuriatingly smug smile of his—that she secretly loved so much—as he glanced sidelong at her. "This is the part where you reward me with a kiss, for being so thoughtful."

"A kiss?" She tutted. "Just for that, you're never getting one, you stubborn prince. Where is he?"

"You truly wish to reconnect with him? After the way things ended?"

"Careful, you sound a little jealous." She lifted her eyebrows. It was easier to tease and play when danger loomed. It helped disguise the churning in her gut.

Feowen snorted. "Jealous? Of a—?" He wisely stopped himself. "Oh, all right." He sighed. "He's been stationed at the east gate, sector two."

A needling thought crossed her mind. Her eyes narrowed. "You haven't spoken to him, have you?"

"Upon my honor." He placed a hand over his chest, bowing slightly. "Haven't even made my presence known."

She hesitated, nodded, then set off. Feowen kept pace beside her. Despite the late hour, the city was a flurry of activity around them. People rushed about to complete last minute tasks. Estimations put Oshea's forces at a mere two days away. Since the alarm had sounded, she'd hardly had a moment to breathe; she and the others had been occupied carrying out all manner of tasks delegated to them by their rulers. It helped with the nerves, but only just. Never mind trying to sleep when an army loomed on your doorstep.