Page 124 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

The paneled walls, the butter-soft sheets. The lush curtains and the fucking crystal-clear windows. No matter how often I moved from my bed to my terrace to my sofa, it all pressed in on me in a way that made me want to scream.

Maybe spending a few full days cooped up in my room, letting Eilir teach me about the dark gods, hadn’t been the best idea. I just didn’t have the gall to tell the sprite that, not when they were making such an effort to hold me together.

But their presence and endless optimism had become suffocating too.

Between the walls closing in and the realization I was merely hours away from having to plaster a pleasant disposition on all damned day, sleep was out of the question, again.

I crawled out of bed and pulled back those damned curtains, blinking out at the landscape beyond my window. The first traces of something other than ink-black sky were trickling in over the horizon, but sunrise was still a way to go.

I’d learned that on the previous two mornings, sitting on the terrace until the golden glow was a little too much to bear. Those morning rays perfectly highlighted what I now knew was the study between mine and Maksym’s quarters, the steps that led to the underground pathways, and a night I was keen to not think about.

That list of out-of-sight, out-of-mind was ever-growing.

Maksym. Jasper. Even sweet Eilir now, and the delightful maid, Malva, who brought my breakfast every morning and tried to make small talk with me.

I tried not to think about any of them as I got dressed for the day—enjoying another pair of pants I’d been gifted from the barracks—and set about working my hair into a loose braid. There wasn’t much else I bothered with outside of a small, belted bag I fastened around my hips and filled with a folded scarf and an extra tie for my hair. My father’s pendant hung around my neck, of course, tucked beneath my blouse and vest.

Where my miserably early morning would take me was still up in the air; all I knew for certain was that I needed to be anywhere but my room. My door let out a faint, protesting whine as I opened it just enough to squeeze through.

The absence of life in the Keep’s halls was unnerving, but it gave me a few precious moments of privacy to wander around the upper level, inspecting pieces of tapestry and mounted weapons I’d never appreciated properly before. If I squinted a little and ignored the depressing blue glow of nytefire all around me, Grimm’s Keep could pass for a second cousin or distant relative of the fortress I grew up in. Almost. Far more modest in its artwork, though, and its proud displays of heirlooms and reminders of conquest.

I ran out of easy-to-find items to inspect rather fast and found myself at the landing that looked out on the atrium, leaning against the polished stone railing as I sighed and glanced below.

Among the dim light, dark surfaces, and blue light thrown from lanterns, I spotted my first sign of life—two sentries posted by the main doors, sporting winged half-helmets. The average eye may not have picked up on it, but the soldier in me was quick to notice how much they were both using the expansive slabs of stone that made up the door’s frame to keep themselves upright.

Stuck with the riveting night rotation, the poor souls.

I’d worked my fair share of miserable guard posts in my early service years, and normally, I did not look back on those days with much fondness. They were full of being ripped a new asshole for falling asleep at a watchtower, or being scared into nearly soiling yourself by whoever was stuck on that rotation with you.

But at this precise moment in time, I missed those halcyon days.

When I took my first steps down one of the twin staircases sweeping into the atrium, and the soles of my boots echoed off the steps, the head of the closest soldier snapped over.

They were rigid as a fence post a moment later.

“Miss Wynn.” He cleared his throat, and his companion’s armor scraped as they stiffened up. “Is everything alright? Something you need?”

“No, no. I’m alright.” I offered them both a small smile as I approached and was shocked to find the one who spoke smiled back. “I just couldn’t sleep. Thought a walk might help. Am I allowed outside on my own, or has Maksym forbidden that?”

Tension ticked in the sentry’s jaw, and I turned to walk away.

The last thing I really needed was verbal confirmation the king had played a hand like that.

I hadn’t seen or spoken to him since our disastrous visit to his precious cove, and I didn’t know him well enough to guess if he’d resort to such petty behavior in its wake.

Not thinking about Maksym was going so well.

“It’s not safe out this time of day,” the sentry blurted out. “You’re not armed, are you?”

“No, I’m not…” I narrowed my eyes. “Why would it not be safe outside?”

And just as those words left my lips, the answer dawned on me—those damn sick wolves I’d been warned about by someone else I was trying not to think about.

The sentry confirmed it.

“You’ve heard about what’s going on with the shifters, right? Some of them have been getting stuck in their canid forms and going rabid.” He winced and shook his helmeted head. “We have patrols on the grounds monitoring things, but they can’t cover every inch of the Keep, and it’s really not safe until sunrise. The packs seem to retreat to their dens then, and only the truly desperate ones linger.”

I didn’t understand the first thing about shifters or how any of their magic worked, but the last thing I needed was an encounter with a rabid animal while I was unarmed, as the sentry so kindly pointed out. Sure, that would probably put a pretty quick end to my participation in the Agōn Ferr, though in one of the worst possible ways.