Corinne, of all people, could understand that. Her empathy warred with the remaining fragment of distrust she’d harbored since Vera’s visit.

  “I hope things get better for her soon,” she said, and she meant it.

  “Me too,” Danai said. “All right. What are we covering today?”

  Corinne didn’t want to admit it, but training with Danai was pure fun. When had she last uttered that word, or considered it worth her time? They spent half the session laughing and exchanging quips, and when Corinne accidentally nicked Danai’s upper arm with her sword, she healed it quickly, trying to ignore Danai’s flabbergasted expression the whole time.

  “You can channel your magic into that sword, right?” Danai asked, hopping off the edge of the fence after Corinne had successfully mended their arm. She nodded, and Danai’s eyes sparkled. “Can you show me?”

  Corinne knew Danai wouldn’t have asked if Iliana had been present to chastise them, and it made it all the more endearing. With a smirk, she took a step back and held her sword at her center, blade facing the heavens. Her magic flashed along her arms with Helaera’s blessing, lighting up the blade in brilliant golden light. Corinne swung it out to the side, taking off a dummy’s head in an instant, leaving behind only charred edges of straw. In a breath, her magic receded, and Danai stared at her with wonder in their eyes.

  “Incredible,” they said, arms crossed as they shook their head. Corinne sheathed her sword as she fought a smile. “If I’d seen things like that growing up, I might be more inclined to visit the sanctuary every week.”

  “Is there a sanctuary in the castle?” Corinne asked, brow furrowing.

  Only a priestess or designated Lightguard could lead a service of worship, and she was the first Lightguard to reside in the castle in living memory, as far as she knew.

  Danai nodded as they vacated the training grounds, heading inside for lunch. “It’s usually empty, but it’s on the fourth floor in the east wing. Iliana goes there sometimes. Nik, too, to light a candle for his mother.”

  Corinne’s heart sank. “Nik’s mother has crossed the horizon of the Goddess?”

  “That’s a very beautiful way of describing death,” Danai said with a sad smile. “But yes, she died when Nik was sixteen, about thirteen years ago now. An illness took her.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear that,” Corinne said. She was quiet for a moment as they walked. “I…was a Lightguard unable to heal her?”

  “They weren’t able to get to Vytanos in time,” Danai said. “It took her swiftly and suddenly.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  Danai nodded. “And Lightguards, I hear many of you are orphans?”

  Corinne kept her face impassive. “Many, yes. Myself included.” Before Danai could offer condolences or ask questions, Corinne gave them a bracing smile. “Most come to the monastery as very young children. They are my family.”

  “Leaving them had to be difficult for you.”

  As they arrived at the dining hall, Danai’s eyes were full of understanding when Corinne looked at them.

  “They are always with me,” Corinne said, forcing her smile to stay in place as she opened the doors. “As the Goddess is.”

  “Say that again!”

  Corinne and Danai froze the moment they entered the dining hall. Four tables down, two guards stood almost nose to nose, one of whom was Iliana. She grabbed the front of the other guard’s tunic, a man who was a head taller than she was, her face incensed. He shoved her away, sneering.

  “I said mud-dwelling beggars,” he spat, and Iliana lunged at him.

  The room erupted, servants scattering, some guards watching with interest, a few cheering. Danai raced forward, and Corinne followed, pushing around bodies to reach Iliana and the guard she’d tackled.

  They were on the floor between two tables, Iliana straddling the other guard and delivering a heavy punch to his face. Danai shoved several onlookers out of their way and dove for Iliana, hauling her off the man. Corinne jumped in to restrain the guard as he shot to his feet and made to attack Iliana. She grabbed his upper arms and immediately received an elbow to the ribs, dislodging her hold on him. Stars burst in her vision. Her shock turned to anger in an instant, and her magic surged within, easing her pain.

  Just before the guard reached Iliana and Danai, Corinne grabbed hold of his arm, yanking him back. He started to throw a punch at her, but Corinne dodged and used his momentum to send him to the ground, his arm pinned behind his back.

  “You won’t like how this ends if you try to attack me again,” Corinne hissed in his ear.

  The guard squirmed for a moment, rage blazing in his eyes as blood ran heavily from his now-broken nose. Iliana spit on the ground at his feet, still held firm by Danai but no longer struggling to break their hold.

  “Fuck you, Antin,” Iliana growled.

  “ENOUGH!”

  Corinne’s head snapped up at the furious bellow. Captain Ekhana appeared at the end of the tables, disapproval painted across his face.

  “Antin, Calais, you’re both working double time for a week starting today,” Captain Ekhana said.

  “Captain, he insulted my family⁠—”

  “I don’t care if he cursed your entire bloodline to the fifth gate of hell, Calais,” Captain Ekhana said, turning to Iliana and Danai. “Brawling in the dining hall? You disgrace yourselves.”

  Iliana held her tongue, but Corinne could tell she wanted to argue.

  “And as for you, Antin,” the captain said. Corinne released him, her markings disappearing as she reined her magic in. He lifted himself from the floor, wiping blood from his nose onto his sleeve as he scowled at Captain Ekhana. “Insult a fellow guard’s family again and I’ll send you packing back to your rich aunt in the city.”

  A murmur rumbled through the crowd around them.

  Captain Ekhana turned to leave. “As you were!” he barked to the room at large, and guards and servants who hadn’t finished eating returned to their places at the tables, while others quickly vacated the room.

  Corinne waited until Antin stalked off with two other guards before turning back to Danai and Iliana. They spoke low to one another, Danai patting Iliana’s shoulder as Corinne approached, trying to ignore the stares of those surrounding her.

  Iliana gave her a sheepish smile. “Thanks, Corinne,” she said. “Are you hurt?”

  Corinne shook her head. “I’m fine. You?”

  Iliana grimaced. “My hand hurts like hell, but I suppose I deserve that.”

  “I can fix that,” Corinne said. She glanced around at all the eyes still on the three of them. “Preferably not here, though.”

  “Come on,” Danai said, beckoning to them.

  Danai led Corinne and Iliana out of the dining hall and down a quick series of short hallways Corinne didn’t recognize. They stopped at an innocuous wooden door, glancing around before opening it and gesturing for Corinne and Iliana to enter. It was a small storage room, shelves stacked high with cleaning supplies and a few gardening tools. An empty table stood below the only window in the room. Danai hoisted themself onto it and patted the empty space on their right for Iliana. She joined them with a sigh.

  “How did you know about this place?” she asked, lifting her hand as Corinne held out her own.

  “Nik found it.”

  “Why would Nik need a— oh, Goddess, never mind,” Iliana groaned. “You two are worse than teenagers in love.”

  Danai’s answering laughter faded as Corinne’s magic illuminated her hands and arms. Iliana’s eyes grew as large as serving plates as the light funneled into her hand, the angry red marks on her knuckles fading as they healed. It took longer than Corinne expected—there was a small fracture in one of the delicate bones of Iliana’s hand. No wonder it had hurt.

  She’d been reckless, impulsive in a way that drew the attention of the entire dining hall. Corinne breathed a little easier despite the situation—it seemed less and less likely that any of her three new friends here would be working with the Nightrenders.

  When her healing was complete, Iliana sighed in relief, then sniffled as Corinne’s magic faded.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice thick.

  Corinne met her tear-filled amber eyes, and she froze. She hadn’t expected Iliana to cry.

  “I didn’t mean to drag you two into my foolishness.”

  Danai draped an arm around Iliana’s shoulders. “It’s okay. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “My parents again, as always,” Iliana said, sniffling again. “They say ‘We were twenty-seven when we had you and then Etta, you should be grateful for where you are.’ As if being the only person in the family making any real money isn’t something that terrifies me every day. I feel like I can’t breathe, Danai.”

  “I know,” Danai said softly.

  Iliana squeezed Corinne’s fingers, making her realize she hadn’t dropped Iliana’s hand. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do other than stand there and let Iliana cry until she felt better.

  Corinne had carried many worries during her life, but money had never been one of them. The monastery was self-sustaining, providing plenty for its own people, and according to Vera, most villages hosted Lightguards at no cost, grateful for their presence alone.

  “Thank you again,” Iliana said finally. “Both of you.”

  Corinne knew she was supposed to be keeping these castle dwellers at arm’s length, should be careful with whom she trusted. But when she left the storage room alongside Iliana and Danai, she feared they’d sidled closer to her heart than she’d expected.

  Chapter 11

  If Corinne never heard a knock on her door in the middle of the night again, it would be too soon. She forced her sluggish mind into focus as she answered the door.

  “Apologies for waking you, Corinne,” Captain Ekhana said. “But Cato is sick and I need you to cover for him.”

  Corinne nodded. “Of course, Captain. I’ll be right out.”

  Yawning, Corinne donned her shirt, trousers, boots, and sword belt as quickly as she could. Her appearance mattered little when she’d just be standing guard outside Prince Aryel’s door all night.

  “Thank you, Corinne,” the captain said, nodding to her as she stationed herself to the left of Aryel’s door.

  She settled in place and breathed evenly. It would be so much easier to remain awake if she could read one of the books Nik had given her, but that would defeat the purpose of her keeping watch. She’d gotten decent sleep the previous night at least, and hoped that and the hour or so she’d already gotten tonight would be enough.

  The lock on Aryel’s door clicked behind her, and she whirled to the side just as his face appeared in the doorway.

  “Fuck, you’re out here?”

  Corinne gaped at him, summoning a bit of light to her fingertips so she could see him properly. He was dressed in a dark green shirt that cut in a deep V, and a silver chain around his neck mirrored its shape on his bare chest. His hair fell on either side of his face in a roguishly handsome way, and his facial hair was freshly trimmed.

  “Yes, your other guard fell ill,” Corinne said, remembering herself.

  Aryel swore colorfully. He stepped out into the alcove and muttered to himself for a moment before putting his hands on his hips and staring at Corinne.

  “I’m going out tonight,” he said.

  Corinne’s throat went dry. “Where?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “A gathering of nobles.”

  “Oh,” Corinne said, relaxing. “In the castle?”

  “No. In the woods.”

  “The woods?”

  “Yes, Sunshine, it’s where we go to get away from it all.”

  Helaera help her, she could not let him do this. “I can’t let you do something so reckless.”

  “Oh, you can’t, can you?” he asked, his voice low as he took a step toward her, bracing one hand on the wall to her right.

  Corinne mustered her courage, not backing away. He couldn’t intimidate her into directly disobeying the wishes of the queen.

  “I’m sorry, Prince Aryel, but I will not have you getting into trouble on my watch,” she said. “I…I will physically restrain you if I have to.”

  A wicked smile spread across his face. “Do you promise?”

  Corinne wanted to melt into the floor. She had no witty retort, only a fierce flush that ran from her cheeks to the tips of her ears.

  “I—”

  Aryel sighed heavily, the mischief fading from his expression. “Don’t worry about it. You win, Sunshine.”

  He stalked back into his room, closing the door behind him, and Corinne exhaled. She was confident that the queen and king would not punish her for physically restraining their son to prevent him from being foolish, but she didn’t particularly want to deal with the complications of explaining herself either. What a relief it was that she’d been able to reason with him.

  Only a few minutes had passed when a slam sounded from within his rooms, followed by a sharp yelp. Corinne burst inside, flying through the antechamber and into his bedroom, searching wildly for some intruder.

  But no one was in his room—a bedsheet had been secured to the knob of one of his balcony doors, which had slid shut, leading over the railing and down the side of the castle. Corinne sprinted to the balcony’s edge and looked down. Aryel was clinging to a stretched-out blanket he’d tied to the sheet, halfway down the wall.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Corinne whisper-screamed at him, furious and terrified of attracting attention all at once. “What in Helaera’s name are you doing?”

  Aryel looked up at her as he scaled downward. “I’m…going to that party.”

  “Why are you so determined to put your safety at risk?” she hissed, and he lowered himself the final few feet to the ground. A light wood sprawled to the south just behind him, his footfalls softened by pine needles.

  “If you’re so concerned for my safety, then you’ll just have to follow me, won’t you?” he said.

  Goddess, she wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face. He started to walk off toward the pine trees, and Corinne stepped away from the balcony’s edge, wringing her hands. She couldn’t let him go alone, not when it was her duty to keep him safe.

  Helaera help me, I beg of you. Corinne leapt over the side of the balcony and gripped the sheets. Goddess, she didn’t want to fall. She made her way down as quickly as she could without losing her grip, all the while letting her ire grow.

  Prince Aryel was the most insufferable, spoiled, impudent man she’d ever had the misfortune of meeting, and she would drag him back to the castle by that ridiculous silver chain around his neck if she had to.

  She landed silently on the pine needles and hurried in the direction he’d gone, and for the first time in her life, she understood the impulse to swear. There were no inoffensive words that came to mind as she summoned light to her fingers and tracked her wayward charge through the woods in the middle of the night. A few voices carried through the trees up ahead, and she lowered her hand. A dim light flickered in the distance, casting shadows on the trees and silhouetting a figure only a few yards in front of her. She hurried after him.

  Corinne didn’t make it to the prince before he’d reached the edge of a clearing full of people sitting around a bonfire. He turned to confront her head-on as she got in his face.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Sunshine,” he said, his voice low. “So you can stay here and brood off to the side, or you can lighten up and have a drink. Dragging me out of here in front of a bunch of nobles’ children is not an option.”

  It was like he’d read her mind. Corinne glanced behind him, fuming as she counted over a dozen attendees, some seated by the fire, some dancing, a few paired off and speaking in hushed voices.

  “Fine,” she said, meeting his self-satisfied gaze. “But you stay in my line of sight.”

  He huffed a laugh. “Fair enough.”

  Aryel swaggered off to retrieve a drink from a barrel that had been set up at the far end of the clearing, well away from the fire. Several nobles greeted him warmly, clapping him on the back or grinning. Corinne couldn’t make out what they’d said, but Aryel laughed. She planted herself against a large tree, crossing her arms and scowling at the lot of them. If anyone caught her eye, they looked away quickly, whispering to their fellows.

  Corinne studied them all, wondering which noble family each belonged to. Perhaps one of these nobles was the spy, and here Aryel was amongst them, not a care in the world.

  Quiet footsteps approached from her left, and Corinne turned just as a familiar face smiled at her.

  “You’re Catherine, aren’t you?” Lana asked, that golden hair of hers pulled back into a long braid.

  She wore far more casual attire tonight than when Corinne had first met her, dressed in a fine purple tunic and black trousers. She was the daughter of Nora and Calin Riann, nobles with land to the southwest, far from the border to the Shadowlands. Unlikely to have connections to Nightrenders, but still, Corinne narrowed her eyes at her.

  “Corinne,” she corrected.

  Lana’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I’m terrible with names.”

  Corinne looked away from her, finding Aryel again. He was seated on a large log with two other men, deep in conversation.

  “You certainly can’t keep your eyes off Aryel.”

  Corinne ignored the heat that crept up her neck, giving Lana a withering look. “It’s my sworn oath to watch him.”

  Lana giggled. “Oh, come on, nothing’s going to happen to him out here. Here.” She held out a cup filled with Helaera-knew-what, and Corinne frowned at her.

  “No, thank you,” Corinne said.

  Lana shrugged. “Suit yourself, Catherine.”

  Corinne’s blood boiled beneath her skin. Aryel was a vexing brat, but something about Lana felt rotten. Even the tone of her voice when she spoke to Corinne was sickly sweet, laced with poison. Corinne tried to breathe deeply, returning her attention to Aryel.