Page 4 of On Silver Winds
“Asummons, Ger.”
The settee was still rumpled with knitted blankets from Ger’s makeshift bed; Adeline settled instead on a bank of colourful cushions scattered beneath the huge round window. Her home, with its faded green wallpaper and hanging baskets strung from the ceilings, had always put her in mind of a fairy’s burrow. It was colour and chaos; her sanctuary from the relentless perfection of the Silver Palace. This windowsill was her favourite place in the tiny apartment by far. She loved the light that poured in, no matter the hour. Come Mid-Winter, she would spend entire days here, basking in the buttery yellow warmth of the sun shining off the snowcapped roofs across the street. But this was New Winter’s Eve, the coldest day of the year giving way to the longest night. In the early morning snowfall, the light was soft and otherworldly.
Ger followed and sank down in the pile of cushions across from her.
“A fuckingsummons,” Adeline said again. “Can you believe her?”
“I’d answer, but this feels like a dangerous line of questioning.”
“It’s fine, it’s just–”Adelinebroke off, andforced a breath through her teeth.Shehatedfeeling like this.Hated that her mother could stillmakeher feel like this, with just a few scratches of ink. She wore her irritation like an ill-fitting jumper; hot and prickly andrough.It didn’t suit her and she knew it; she wanted to rip it off, swath herself in the cosy joy she’d grown so accustomed to.
“Of course I’m going to be there! Of course I’m going to see my family, my sisters. I’ve spent every New Winter’s Eve on that balcony since I was eight years old. Why would this year be any different?”
Ger opened his mouth, but she quickly reached out to hold a finger over his lips; they twitched instead into a rueful smile, and she matched it with her own.
“That was rhetorical.”
He grabbed the mug from her hands and took a sip, cocking an eyebrow at her over the rim as if to say;You know why this year is different.
And she did.
The arrangement was quite simple; her mother granted Adeline permission to live a life beyond the palace walls, but her leash was a short one and her role would remain unchanged. She was a Senior Royal, a representative of the Beira family and, as her twenty-second birthday loomed ever closer, a potential heir to the throne.
For now.
Adeline shook out her arms and shoulders, a physical attempt to shake away the irritation she simply did not want to feel, especially not today. It worked – sort of. She made herself smile, gritting her teeth a bit with the effort.
“Anyway,” she said brightly, leaning over to steal back her mug. “Enough of my family drama. How was the rest of your night?”
Ger grinned, showing every gleaming tooth.
“Excellent. Your little showdown earned meseveralfree drinks. I was a hero by association.”
Adeline smiled sweetly.
“And by association only.”
She’d been teasing, but Ger’s smile slipped, and watching it drop was like missing a step on a steep staircase; her stomach lurched.
“Oh Ger, no –”
“I’m sorry Ade.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for!”
She waved his apology away - a touch too emphatically, immediately wincing at the pain in her wrist.
Ger frowned and scooted closer. Despite her protests, he took her hand in his, turned it over gently – and scowled. A bruise had bloomed where she’d collided with the bar. A storm cloud beneath her skin, rising from her forearm to the side of her palm.
“It’s fine,” she insisted.
He wasn’t listening, didn’t hear her over the irate growl rising in his throat.
“I should have grabbed Doran by the throat and –”
“No you should not,” she said, voice firm. “Let’s not give Captain Doran a reason to take his grudges out on you, alright? You’re a darling of the Gard, and we’ll keep it that way.”
“You’re a princess,” he countered.
