Page 18 of The Last Guardian
“Yes! Get the fuck out of here,” Arthur snapped.
Nevan stiffened at Arthur’s outburst. He leaned down to kiss my cheek and said in my ear, “See you later, gorgeous,” and disappeared down another street.
We needed to clear things up the next time I saw him. Nevan would always have a special place in my heart, but he couldn’t force me to kiss him like that.
I sighed; the cold left its mark in the air as I studied the two men in front of me. Arthur’s nostrils flared as he held my gaze.
“Seriously, Alya, what the fuck are you doing? You cannot make out in the middle of the town like that, let alone with him. Don’t you have your betrothed to woo or something?” Arthur argued, a line forming between his brows.
“Fuck off, Arthur!” I snapped. “You’re one to talk when you’re walking around town with shady people all day.” I pointed at Zaidkiel, who raised an eyebrow. “Who is he anyway? Your lover?”
Zaidkiel chuckled; faint dimples formed in his cheeks.
“Something amusing you?” I retorted, my hands on my hips.
His mischievous gaze scanned my posture. A broad, smug smile lit up his face. “You know how to use your tongue, don’t you?” Zaidkiel remarked, straightening himself up from the wall.
“And my fist too. Want to see?” I took a step, my hand clenched at my side.
Zaidkiel burst out laughing when Arthur stepped in front of me.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Arthur warned me with a dark look.
I sneered, glaring at the man behind him before turning my attention back to Arthur. “You should find yourself some more polite friends.” Without giving him a chance to reply, I left the alley and headed toward the herbalist.
THE HERBALIST HAD been a dead end.
Since I’d refused to show him the mark, he didn’t know how to help me. But the fear that he might tell someone about this moving mark was enough to keep me quiet. Seeing my despair, the herbalist gave me a potion, but from his grim expression, I was almost sure it wouldn’t work.
I drank it last night. And when I woke up, the mark was still there. And that wasn’t all.
The mark had stopped growing and was now forming patterns with bloated, white lines, a sort of semicircle that looked like an upside-down crescent moon, and above it, six swirls had formed. If I had been superstitious, I might have thought the sun had cast a spell on me.
Lucky me, it was the end of August, and the weather in the North prevented me from wearing strapless dresses, so I could hide it as best as I could tonight.
Grandmother had finally left me alone as the wedding drew near. All the attention was on Aurora. It would finally be a day of peace until tonight’s engagement ball. I hoped so anyway.
I should have gone to see Haedeon today, but the thought of being alone with him gave me chills all over my body. Maybe tomorrow. Instead, I went to one of my favorite spots in the palace—an upper balcony in the castle—to read a bit.
Dressed in a simple burgundy dress with bell sleeves thick enough to protect me from the wind, I had nevertheless brought a small blanket. I sat on the bench up there, admiring the landscape. The valleys stretched as far as the eye could see.
Despite Lorath’s light fog enveloping the lush fields and hills, there was no rain. A ray of sunshine pierced the clouds.
Shades of green and yellow spread as far as the eye could see, beyond the city. I loved the view from here. Uncle Marlon had shown me this place when I was little, letting me borrow one of his favorite spots to hide from the court.
Nobody ever came here.
The curved stone balcony encircled the tower, and ivy climbed the tower’s facade.
For the rest of the day, I lost myself in my book and, from time to time, looked at the beautiful valley spreading before me. When the light drained from the sky hours later, I realized I had spent the entire day here without food.
Seven Hells, I’m going to be late!
In a hurry, I grabbed my book and made my way to the tower. But the moment I took a step near the archway, an icy voice echoed from downstairs.
“I want to see the commander! Arrange a meeting as soon as possible!”
Father.
