Shadow Weaver (Back on Wattpad 2020!)

Chapter 27

Tug marches me back through the fort, stars twinkling in the darkness above, the Duke's guards following us. I drown him in a torrent of insults and cutting speculation about the Duchess, and why she chose the Duke over him, dredging up the cruellest things I can think of, though I must be far off the mark because he barely reacts.

We are almost at the royal guest tower when I notice the unusual bustle of the fort. Lanterns burn in a dozen of the tower's windows. Boots stomp, swords clang, and through the myriad of stone tunnels, come echoes of orders given in raised voices.

Tug releases my arm, and we hurry towards the guest tower. A vaulted archway opens into the circular courtyard. Taking in the Prince on the steps by the entrance, panic circles through me. I cannot explain why I am wandering about Lyndonia at such an unsociable hour with Tug, or the state of my dress, or the stolen room key.

Wooden torches blaze in the curved courtyard walls, creating two arcs of light around the grand entrance. Jakut's face is lit up in a blaze of orange flames. His gaze is fixed on our approach, the hostility and warning in his eyes so sharp, I check to see if he is wearing his sword. Gloved fingers curl and uncurl around the bejewelled hilt. He widens his stance to block our way.

Tug offers the smallest nod. "Your Royal Highness," he says, voice grave and cautious. I give a stiff curtsey. The Prince allows Tug past, but when I try to follow he lays a hand on my arm.

"I wish to speak with you."

In the dimly lit corridor, Tug glances back. His look says he does not trust me alone with Jakut. Gritting my teeth, I pretend not to notice. After everything I've been through, does he really think I would do anything to divulge my brother's existence and risk Kel's freedom?

The Prince's eyes settle on my face. "I suppose I should thank you for leaving the key where I could find it."

A brittle wall has gone up between us. All trust and goodwill he had for me has gone. I accused him of condoning the attack on his escort and murdering those who helped him, and now he doesn't despise me. It is worse. I am nothing to him, just a nuisance. I am the dirty soil beneath his fine boots, which he must tread on to reach his destination.

An uneasy sensation wraps around me, like a thick fall of hushed snow, temporarily smothering my guilt and hurt over seeing Kel.

"Something in particular you were looking for?"

Anguish catches in my throat.

"No matter," he says, lips twitching. "News has come of my father. The Duke sent a messenger to wake me. We must go to him at once."

I grow conscious of my dirty dress, which will be blindingly obvious in a lit room. "It would seem odd if I were to go with you after last night, Your Royal Highness."

"I do not care what they think," he snaps. "You have forgiven me. That is all they need to know."

"But they would never—"

He leers in my face. "Your dress is creased and soiled. Your eyes are puffy. You are sneaking around the fort and stealing room keys. If you think I will let you leave my sight for even a minute, you are very mistaken!"

His unmasked fury suddenly reminds me of his confession in the great hall moments before we were presented to the Duke and Duchess. I wonder if he is jealous again, or pretending to be, because I was with Tug. What does he imagine we were doing together?

We stride through tunnels and dark courtyards, headed for the Royal Hall. I realize Jakut will continue our charade of awkward sweethearts in front of the Duchess while she will know him for a liar. I dislike giving the perfidious Duchess an upper hand over the Prince. But I don't have the luxury of picking sides.