The White Sheep's Disguise ✓

Chapter 52

Cloak returns home without incident. The village is saddened to see their prince go, but with the shipments of food and supplies brought by dragon, they're easily distracted. Those gifts don't arrive until days later, before I'm set to return to the palace for my final two weeks, through Gustus and Theo.

The village practically tears apart the crates of food, used clothes, medicines, spices and salts, soaps and clean towels. They take as much as their arms can carry while weeping to the skies that good fortune has returned to their mundane lives. I watch a little girl receive ointment to clear a rash that has spread over half her face, a young man that hasn't worn anything other than a raggedy shirt with a giant hole over the back finally receive three clean tunics—all from the prince himself. I can't forget his broad grin after tugging the new tunic over his head.

Theo handed tools to the blacksmiths and butchers along with sharpeners for their knives and working blades. As I watched the familiar faces of the village covered in dirt, their hair tangled as mine always has been from using a cheap soap over the years—or none at all—I realized they weren't praising the princes. Shouts of gratitude rang through the air, those thanking the Gods for what now crinkled in their grasp.

Not only were the Gods a center of their appreciation, but the queen was too. They thanked her for being so attentive to her people after she never once showed an interest in the village other than to slaughter the Luminaries born after her sister's raid. I tried to keep a smile on my face as a few of the villagers even thanked me for bringing the princes into their lives, but my cheeks began to hurt and I couldn't see straight the longer I forced the excitement.

The woman on the throne has nothing to do with the dozens of crates dropped by dragon. That sinking feeling in my gut carries me all the way to the palace with Gustus and his husband after they ordered I must be present days before Claiming's Eve. I left without Chaska or Rylan, who will wait for their assigned carriages once that day comes.

To brush my early departure off as nothing serious, I claim the servants need an extra hand to get everything ready. After revealing to Castiel that I'm allowed to keep my life after these two weeks, he's much less nervous about me leaving and ushers to bring back a souvenir from Claiming's Eve—if there is such a thing other than the claiming and a pendant meant to ward off others.

Those few days spent by myself after Cloak's departure made me realize just how attached I've become. Not only to him and his healing practices, our daily routine that has built physical strength within my body, but the rest of the palace and the people within. How am I to leave them without feeling the tug of my heart back towards the capital?

How am I supposed to go my separate way without asking Gustus about the potions first?

I have undergone weeks to decide this, and everything has come down to these last fourteen days. Asking about the potion, Claiming's Eve, Cloak's healing. Everything weighs on my shoulders during my final venture to the palace, and I don't realize the extremes to that until I actually arrive and notice the stage going up on the outskirts of the woods, where Cloak and I enjoy running to heighten our immortal senses against twigs, roots, rocks—anything that can grab at our ankles.

I swallow the lump in my throat and keep my sanity. Unknowingly, I head to Cloak's chambers instead of my own. His doors are unguarded, I don't receive the chance to smile at two familiar faces waiting for my arrival, as well as listening to Cloak's happenings on the inside.

Out of habit, I avoid knocking on the door and head inside, still feeling the sting in my cheeks from riding through the sky. If only Gustus didn't desire to make such a sharp descent every time we approach the courtyard. He thinks it's fun. My hair—and my frozen face—believe otherwise.