A Court of Fear and Faith

Chapter Eight

The forest felt hollow for the first time since her mother's burial. The wind wouldn't even rustle the trees, and the clouds covered every star above her as she walked back toward the castle gates, her feet dragging on the muddy earth beneath her. She felt cold as if somebody had drenched her in ice water but didn't wrap her cloak around herself, her arms thoroughly sore from her earlier outburst of rage in the bedroom. Silently, Lily cringed at the thought of going back to the mess. All of it. She'd have to sweep for days to get up all of the splintered wood and pottery. Cauldron knew how long it would take to fix the draws of her dresser. 

As she rested her hand on a tree trunk to steady her footing as she climbed over a large root, Lily took one glance at her pale hand and smirked. She didn't even have an engagement ring. Her lie was rooted in nothing but delusion and the fear or Azriel getting hurt. Nevermind the fact that the thought of Matthew even touching her now made her want to throw up her guts. The thought of marrying a bitter, hateful boy curdled in her stomach until she could feel bile rising in her throat.  

"I wish you all the happiness in this world, Lily, always." 

Did he feel it too? This bond between them, like a bridge that made her heart beat next to his as if they were one. Did he know she was his mate? Was this even what having a mate felt like? She had to stop thinking this way, it would drive her mad. Azriel was gone from this terrible territory and was safer for it. As she felt the tug of the magical wards, she tried to forget the feeling of his arms wrapped around her as she cried. That warmth and comfort. How they fit together almost perfectly, his head resting atop hers. She pushed it to the farthest reaches of her mind and let the sickly pull of magic coat every inch of her. 

The courtyard was empty, a few stragglers from the night's revelries stumbling back to their quarters as she made her way to the kitchens door. As her feet hit the hard floor of the kitchen she remembered the book, the small hardback edition that Azriel had given her. A personal gateway to a life where she didn't have to stay within the four walls of her room. As she lay her hand on the splintered bannister that led to her bedroom his voice rang through her head like a bell.

"You looked in the book?"

His voice had been so hopeful, so expectant. She'd seen the pages but why would she need to inspect it further? What if he'd left something in there for her? What had she missed?

Lily gasped as she forced one foot in front of the other, racing up the stairs and pushing open the door as quickly as possible. Her feet crunched on the broken pottery as she rushed to where she'd left the book on the unmade bed, only to find an empty space. Where was it? She turned and pushed aside all the broken wood and ceramic, her hair clinging to her forehead from the sweat and panic. She'd left it here. 

"Looking for this, Lily?"

As she turned to face him, the captain leant against the doorway flicking through the pages of her book, Azriel's book. Lily grabbed a shard of pottery off the floor and tucked it under her skirt, just in case. 

"A strange thing to find in this area, a book about Prythian. In perfect condition too." The captain met Lily's eyes with cool indifference. 

"I found it on a market stall." Lily lied through clenched teeth, her cloak pooling around her. He closed the book and crouched so they were at the same level. She felt like throwing up and fainting and lunging at his arrogant face all in the same moment. 

"You see I don't think you did, Lily. We don't take kindly to liars in this castle, so I would like it if you'd tell me how you got this book and how you know the spymaster."