Damn it, I’m getting distracted again. It’s one thing when I can convince myself I have no choice, but I can’t quite make the leap into doing this now in the light of day. With that in mind, I slip out of the bed, ensuring I keep a careful distance between us as I head for the door. One of the downfalls of never being in a proper relationship is that I don’t know how to navigate fighting in any way that resembles healthy. I’m so conflicted right now, I don’t know which way is up, so it’s better to get out of here before I say something I regret. “I’m going to take a walk.” Maybe at the end of it, I’ll have clarity.
“I never pegged you for a coward.”
That stops me in my tracks. “I’m not a coward.” You can’t be in my line of work. Fear is death. Fear will make you freeze when you should run, run when you should fight. Fear will make you start screaming and lead the monsters right to your door. I’ve spent my entire life eradicating fear from the bottom of my bones and to my very soul. “Conducting a tactful retreat is intelligent.”
“I see. We’re still at war.” He sounds so tired and defeated that I almost turn around. Almost. That way lies ruin. I have faltered already in so many ways. A week ago, the idea that I’d be worried about caring too much about my gargoyle would have made me laugh. Now, that threat is all too real.
I don’t want to hurt him. But I can’t afford to be distracted by him either.
I force my spine straight and shoulders back as I walk through the door without looking at him. He doesn’t follow. I tell myself that’s what I want as my footsteps echo through the empty hallways. How does he stand it? My own family home lies equally echoing and empty—I know that none of my late family members have made the transition to spirits—and I still take great pains not to spend more time there than necessary. The loneliness sinks in too quickly and takes root until I have to leave and rip it out of my soul with my bare hands.
Bram seems to embody the actual stone gargoyles that haunt the eaves of old churches and buildings. Hunched over against the elements, watching from above and isolated. I never felt sorry for those statues. I shouldn’t feel sorry for him. He’s choosing to stay here.
He is . . .
I stop short as a gargoyle steps into the hallway in front of me. They’re built short and robust with a barrel stomach and thighs that look like they could crush boulders. Like the other gargoyles I’ve glimpsed in the distance since I’ve come here, their only nod to modesty is a wrap around their hips. Gargoyles don’t have the same hang-ups about chests that humans do. It makes sense when one accounts for how challenging it must be to create clothes that accommodate wings.
They don’t say anything, which has the hairs on the back of my neck rising. “Can I help you?”
They study me for a bit too long. “I’m Luna. Their Noble Highness. My family line dates back to the founding of this territory.”
I wait, but they don’t say anything further. “Congratulations?”
They sigh like I’ve disappointed them. “You seem different than the humans I’ve met in the past. I’m hoping so, because I’d like to give you a piece of advice.” They shift their wings in a way that I’m not sure how to decipher. Is it supposed to be comforting or threatening? I don’t know enough about gargoyles to say for certain. “Bram and his family are cursed. He’s not the last of his family line because of a series of unfortunate turns. Anyone who gets close to that family will die horribly. I highly suggest you put some distance between the two of you. And don’t have his child.”
Their tone seems honest enough, and their energy reflects nothing but sincerity. I know better than to trust that, though. If they’re really one of the nobles, they likely learned to lie in the cradle. Learned to hide their energy from the time they were a child. I don’t trust Bram, but I certainly don’t trust a stranger. “Why would you warn me? You don’t know me.”
“Like I said, you don’t seem to be a monster. Everyone knows that you’re trying to escape. That pendant around your neck is a good start, but it’s all too easy to remove. If you have a child with him, the child will die. No one deserves to experience that loss.”
A chill slides down my spine. “Are you threatening me and this theoretical child?” I have no intention of getting pregnant, but that doesn’t stop the strange surge of protectiveness that I feel in response to their words.
“What? No!” To their credit, they sound genuinely horrified at the thought. “To do violence against an heir to the territory is unthinkable. The curse would pass to my family line and kill everyone I care about. I only meant to offer my assistance.”
“Assistance,” I echo.
They nod, some of the tension leaching from their shoulders. “Yes, exactly. As I said, your attempts at escape have been noted by those who witnessed them. We would like to offer assistance. One of us can take you wherever you want to go.”
I refuse to feel humiliation over the fact that people aside from Bram witnessed my pathetic escape attempts. But I’m ridiculously embarrassed it never even occurred to me that others might see. I’ve barely seen anyone at all in my time in the castle, and fool that I am, I actually let myself believe it meant we were practically alone. I won’t make that mistake again.
I can’t trust this gargoyle. Right now, my presence here is the only thing that might provide Bram with an heir and displace any of the ambitious noble families who think they have a chance at leadership. They wouldn’t even have to actively murder me. All it would take is a slip while flying high, and gravity would do the rest.
More than that, accepting help feels like cheating. If I’m going to escape, I’ll do it on my own.
“While I appreciate the offer, I think you must understand why I can’t accept it.”
Luna shakes their head in disappointment. “You’re making a mistake, but the offer stands. If you change your mind, you can find me in the east wing on the top floor.”
I stand there and watch them walk away, then wait several more minutes to ensure I’m alone. I knew the situation was thorny, but I’m beginning to realize just how tangled things could get. Again, I wonder at my reluctance to leave the entire thing behind. I’ve been offered outs several times now, and every time, I resist. It doesn’t make any sense.
Nothing about this place makes any sense.
I know better than to let my anger drive me, but I have too many fucking emotions right now. Anger is the easiest. And I know just who to bring it to.
17
BRAM
I hear her coming before I see her. I’d like to say the tread of Grace’s feet is familiar to me already, but the truth is that no one else would bother to seek me out. I barely have a chance to look up when she charges into my office.
Grace huffs out a breath. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“I’ve been here the whole time.”
She’s changed since leaving my bedroom this morning. Now she wears a pair of breeches that don’t quite fit properly under a long tunic. Her long dark hair is free around her shoulders, and she should look young and ridiculous in her ill-fitting clothes. But I don’t think Grace has ever looked young or ridiculous in her entire life. Not even when she was small and fundamentally helpless. The thought of her as a child leads to the thought of what her children might look like, which brings me a strange sort of sadness.