The Painter's Apprentice

Chapter 25

I awake when a bright shaft of light through the bathing chamber window warms my face. It's a strange place to wake up in. I dress in a Grecian gown of sage green and belt it at the waist with a pink ribbon. There are a pair of women's court shoes provided in the wardrobe. I don't expect them to be the correct size for my feet, but they fit perfectly. It makes me wonder if the wardrobe has some magic of its own. It's not like we sent our sizes ahead of our arrival.

I open the door to the bedchamber, and Destan bolts upright in bed like we're under attack.

His shoulders relax when he sees me. "Where are you going?" He groans and runs a hand over his face and through his dark curls.

"I'm going to see Morel."

Destan's eyes meet mine and he holds my gaze. I suddenly feel self-conscious with my hair loose and wild. I pull my hair over a shoulder and twist the ends nervously.

"I'll come with you." He gets out of the bed and heads towards the bathing chamber.

I avert my gaze from the long, muscular legs that his nightshirt doesn't cover. "I'd like to go alone. Please," I add.

Destan looks back at me and I suddenly can't breathe. He doesn't hide the hurt on his face when I know he could. Not wariness. Not jealousy. The soul-deep ache in his eyes suddenly gives me the sense that maybe there's something more between us. Something more than unwanted instincts. I recognize that something more in me as a want that awakens deep in my bones. A feeling that has perhaps been there for a while is called up from the unknown by the siren song of its likeness in him.

The feeling is no longer hidden deep in my bones, but shivering beneath the surface of my skin. I rub gooseflesh from my arms as I collect my thoughts. I want to tell Destan that wanting to be alone with Morel doesn't mean anything, but that's not entirely true. My reunion with Morel last night was unsettling, but he still means everything to me. "I want to see him alone. There are things I need to ask him."

"Of course," Destan says, and his gaze falls to the floor. "Just be careful wandering the castle on your own."

"I will keep my head down," I reply. My pulse flutters with a sliver of fear as I turn and leave Destan behind in our chamber. He taught me to defend myself, but we both know my human strength is no match for a Faerie.

The castle is quiet after the night's festivities and I suspect many Fae will keep to their beds until the afternoon. When I reach the main passageways, I find servants scurrying about, cleaning up the remnants of the ball. Some of them are Fae, but I'm surprised to see humans in their midst. A girl with rounded human ears rushes past with a tray of left-overs.

"Excuse me," I say and reach for her arm.

She jumps out of reach but turns and drops into a curtsy. "Yes, ma'am."

"I am looking for the rooms of Monsieur Edmund Morel. He is a painter here at the court."

The girl looks over her shoulder nervously. "He has a suite at the top of the North Tower. I would show you but I—"

"It's fine. I don't want you to get in trouble. I can find him myself if you point me in the right direction."

She curtsies again. "North Tower is that way, ma'am." She points down the hall behind me and scurries through a doorway and descends in the shadows of winding stone steps, most likely towards the castle kitchens.

I turn and head in the direction of the North Tower. The passageway makes a turn to the right into a Loggia with columns wrapped in climbing ivy. The Loggia is open to all the elements of nature and boasts a panoramic view of the city and the gorge beyond. My fear of heights keeps me away from the balustrade, but I don't let my feet slow. The Loggia dead-ends at a curved stone wall and decorated archway. This must be the North Tower.