Page 39 of The Starlight Savior

He glanced over his shoulder. “Intrusive? I’ve been called worse. If that helps.”

“It doesn’t.”

A faint smile tugged at his mouth as he shifted another dress aside. “Pity.”

Saige exhaled slowly, pressing her fingers into her palm. The heat was already there, low and restless beneath her skin. “I can dress myself,” she added, though it came out tighter than she meant.

“I’m sure you can,” Conor said easily, “but I’m also sure you won’t enjoy training in a corset.”

She almost argued. The words rose fast, sharp, but stalled when the warmth in her chest flared higher, threatening to spill. She didn’t know where this burst of frustration came from, but she had an inkling it was due to the lack of cuffs. Saige swallowed it down, jaw tightening.

“Then maybe the king should’ve provided more than dresses and corsets. I only have what you’ve given me.” She forced the words through steady breaths.

Conor paused, something in her tone finally catching. When he turned, his expression had softened slightly. “Noted,” he said. “And next time, I’ll knock and politely request permission to rescue you from impractical wardrobe choices.”

Despite herself, her lips twitched. “Next time,” she echoed faintly. “So, are you here to escort me to training?”

“I am.”

“Then let’s get this over with.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Now dressed in matching trousers and a short-sleeved tunic, her body moved easily. The anger that had risen in her body had felt uncanny. Conor was simply trying to help. But she was so tired of people telling her what to do. What to think or believe. Everything she knew was being stripped from her and now she couldn’t even decide on her own clothes.

They continued walking through the castle. She was beginning to understand the layout of Athalos’s castle more each time. The ground level was for the commons, where the dining hall, kitchen, and servant quarters were. The eastern wing was for King Vospella and his court. But the other rooms, twists, and turns were a maze to her.

“How many people live here?” Saige asked. The crowds around her grew with each turn. Handmaids trailed along with trays of eggs and steaming meat. The Etrane army in their silver and black armor marched towards the main hall. Most people were exiting through a large door where Saige presumed the capital awaited.

“The castle mostly consists of royal families in Etrane. Vospellas, Nerestels, Zathos, Farrylls. Then the servants and their families. But Athalos has transformed to more of a safe haven. Hundreds of people live in the capital.”

“A safe haven?”

Conor didn’t stop as they turned down another hallway. His gaze trailed on her. “Quite a bit of land has been lost, witchling.”

Saige’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t realized.”

“How could you? Brevil tends to ignore all magical matters until it involves them.”

Saige followed as Conor walked through tall stained glass doors, stepping into a courtyard with a babbling stream flowing through the middle. Moss covered the stone below them, crumbling statues strewn throughout.

“The people must go somewhere,” Conor continued, halting their steps. “Our court has housed them in the guest quarters’ wing and in the capital.”

“The king doesn’t strike me as someone who graciously allows anyone to reside in his land. What if you run out of food or housing?” Saige thought back to the enforced rations. The magic-wielding kingdoms’ populations were often double Brevil’s, especially since magic extended their lifeline. How could he care for that many people?

“I don’t think he has another choice. His father, the previous ruler, allowed the eastern communities to perrish once the mist crossed into Etrane. There was quite the uprising. He is only trying to hold the peace, and the citizens’ hopes.”

“I can’t imagine how difficult it is to be driven from one’s home.” Saige sighed.

“I found it very difficult.”

Her brows furrowed. “The north has been taken too?”

“Have you been asking about me?” Conor’s amused eyes twinkled.

Shrugging, she felt her cheeks heat, betraying her embarrassment.

“Our manor was northeast, closer to Tiranos and the islands. The mist took it about five years ago, but during the winter, I’d train here as a boy. Athalos is more my home than anything.”