“Breathe through your nose and into your belly,” Eclipsa commands, ripping me from my daydream and back to the very painful present.
“I am,” I promise.
“No, you’re sucking mouthfuls of air through your lips like you’re drowning. It’s the most inefficient way to get oxygen to your body . . . and you look like a dying fish.”
Well, she doesn’t mince words.
Lifting the weights from me like they weigh nothing, she gives me a second to breathe.
“Let me ask you a question,” she begins. “For a human, you have what could be a strong, athletic body. Why are you so weak? Does your kind not have training to keep you in shape?”
Her words sting, and I glance over my too-thin body. It’s hard to remember what I looked like with muscle and curves in all the right places. “We have sports, but . . .” Anger, hot and unexpected, surges through me, and I have to forcibly unclench my fists. “We’re starving where I live. Hard to build muscle without food, you know?”
Surprise flickers across her face before she can school her expression into a neutral mask.
My heart clenches. Talking about my life on the other side conjures a wave of sadness as I realize how much I miss my aunts and the others, especially Jane. Are they okay? Do they have enough to eat? Are they safe?
An ache forms in the back of my throat. I can’t think about them. Not now. Not until the day I walk out of this academy.
Grunting, I open my hands and motion to the weights, hoping the grind of pushing my body to its limits will remove the hollow grief that’s settled deep inside me.
Eclipsa is looking at me different now, but she hands them over, and I finally manage to lift the dumbbells halfway. She coaxes a few more reps from me and then allows a water break.
I tell myself it’s not because she feels sorry for me. The idea she might pity me now is unbearable.
When I’ve downed five cups of water from a metal tumbler, I casually start to ask questions, hoping to distract her from our torture session. “So . . . what’s the deal between Rhaegar and the Winter Prince?”
She’s in the middle of some ridiculous yoga pose, and she slowly untwists her lithe body and meets my eyes. “Oh, you noticed that, did you?”
“Kind of hard to miss. I feel like a tennis ball being smacked back and forth.”
“A what?”
“Never mind. So . . . they have history?”
She switches to a one-legged pose, her arms unfurling above her head as her eyes shut. “They both loved the same girl.”
Drawing my knee up to stand on one leg, I try to emulate her pose and nearly fall over for my effort.
“That sounds . . . tragic,” I tease, righting myself. But then I see her face and wish I hadn’t joked.
Her lips are pressed tightly together, her eyes dark with emotion. She slides a careful look over to me. “It was, actually. She died.” She grabs a towel and tosses it at me. “We’re done for the day.”
Thank the Shimmer. Sopping the sweat from my tired body, I grab my clothes and limp for the locker room. A hot shower and change of clothes later, I at least don’t feel like roadkill.
On my way out, Eclipsa pulls me aside. “Word of advice? Don’t ever mention what I just told you. It will be a miracle if we can keep Rhaegar and the prince from starting another war.”
“The mother of all surprises,” I grumble.
Eclipsa laughs, a real laugh that shakes her entire body, and I’m suddenly thankful I can speak my mind around her without fear of reprisal.
“You and the prince seem . . . close,” I begin, struggling with how to phrase my words.
She stiffens. “Most of my early years were spent as a hostage living at the Winter Court. The Unseelie King learned I’m stealthy and possess a great memory, so he employed me as a spy. And when he discovered my skill with weapons . . .” She lifts her fine-boned shoulders in a shrug. “The prince is like a brother to me, and his father’s influence is the only reason I have a spot in this school.”
The prince. I can’t get over how everyone calls him that. “Do you know his name?”
“No,” she says, staring in the mirror as she re-clips one of her barrettes. “And he’ll never tell anyone, even me. As the most powerful Evermore to ever grace these halls, he’s a target. If anyone had his true name . . . well, anyway.” She shakes her head, the half-moon jewels curving her forehead shimmering. “That will never happen. He’s not a fool, and only his mother knew his given name.”
Debatable about the fool part. “Knew?”
“Yeah. She died too.”
It doesn’t escape me that the important women in the prince’s life are dead. Coincidence? Doubtful. Either way, the new information only makes me surer than ever of one thing: I cannot let myself become his shadow.
25
After the Winter Prince embarrassed Rhaegar by pointing out my fatigue, he pays a lot more attention to me. He stashes his books in his locker so I don’t have to carry them, and he’s more attentive to my human needs. Things like having to pee, consuming the occasional nourishment, and staying hydrated.
There was even a beautiful, fur-lined baby-blue coat delivered to our dorm room a few nights ago. Bags of dried rowan berries are sewn into the hem, and steel-blue leather gloves with creamy opal fur trim were stashed in the pockets.
Considering their color, the items are probably from the Winter Prince and not Rhaegar, but my ego won’t get in the way of staying warm and unfrozen.
Basic human rights for the win. I’m feeling very spoiled.
Which is all a good thing since the weather has only seemed to worsen, my bladder is the size of a walnut, and my muscles feel like goo after my morning sessions with Eclipsa. Along with running laps until I collapse, we’ve moved on from strict weight lifting to fifteen minutes of martial arts.
Turns out, that’s just as strenuous on your body, and I finish every session close to puking.
Rhaegar also has other Seelie—usually Magus or Basil—meet me in the hallway when he can’t be there. I’m assuming the videos of Inara glamouring me and her shadow kicking my ass have already made the rounds, which explains why he’s taking extra precautions.
And why the other students snicker and stare when I pass. But after a few weeks of ignoring them and avoiding the spotlight, things start to die down. After classes, Mack and I mostly stay in our dorm to study. Sometimes Evelyn joins us, although she’s not one for “books and stuff.”
Boring, but it helps people forget I punched another student, called the Winter Prince a bitch, caught the attention of the most terrifying mean girl in school, and then got my butt kicked by her shadow.
I’ve also managed to stay out of the prince’s head, and that strange episode begins to feel like a bad dream. My bruises have even healed, the only reminder of that humiliating episode a tiny scar intersecting my blonde eyebrow.
Things are definitely looking up.
I’m lying on my bed, deep into a book on Elemental Magic and Its Many Uses, when Mack breezes into our dorm, followed by Evelyn. They’re both grinning like maniacs. I was so entrenched in reading that I didn’t even know Mack left.
“Find anything?” Mack asks, her gaze sliding to the book.