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Sneaking off to parapet on the morning of Conscription Day would have been easier three years ago, before Alic died. I’m a prince, sure, but before I became the spare I was more out of sight, out of mind. Which suited me just fine.
There were a lot of things I had to adjust to once I became second in line to the throne, but perhaps the most irritating was how the already little privacy I had became even scarcer. Now, the opportunities to escape for a few hours - or even minutes - of breathing room are practically nonexistent. Slipping away for months until I’ve bonded a dragon and I’m officially a rider? Impossible.
Doesn’t mean I’m not going to try my best, though. If my father can lie to an entire kingdom, surely I can lie to him and a few measly guards.
There’s a knock at my door, and I immediately call out, “Enter.”
I’m glad to see that Jandy is the one who opens the door. I’m never sure which guards will be on duty, since any sort of pattern would make it easy for someone to take advantage of. I invited all the off-duty guards out with me last night in the hopes of increasing my chances at the ones this morning being hungover, and Jandy just happened to be one that partook of the festivities a little more than he should have. Probably because he’s the most ambitious of my guards, always doing things to gain favors from me or anyone else with more power than himself.
Which also means that the last thing he’ll do is confess to fucking up in any way.
Like losing track of me. Which is exactly what I want him to do within the next few hours.
“I didn’t expect you to be up already,” Jandy mutters. Another good thing: he looks decidedly green around the edges. “You drank just as much as me last night. If not more.”
In fact, I’ve been up for hours since I needed to do a few final things for my escape plan. And it’s not hard to pass sparkling water in a fancy glass as hard liquor, especially when that’s the last thing anyone would expect.
I’ve been playing the long game since I turned twenty three months ago. I want my father to believe I’m drinking and whoring for the rest of the year, so I’ve spent the time between my birthday and now doing just that. It makes me wonder how exactly anyone does it for more than a few months, let alone an entire year, since I got tired of it after just a few days. I’ve made sure to be as extravagant and ill-behaved as possible without being reprimanded for bringing dishonor to the family, which is a harder balancing act than I thought it would be.
“You’ve been with me for months and you still can’t handle your liquor?” I ask Jandy.
I decide to throw in the cocky smirk that I’ve been perfecting too, just to drive the point home. My only talent is being a rogue, and don’t you forget it.
I raise the cup resting loosely in my hand and continue, “This drink is the best hangover cure I’ve found, my friend. Want to try it?”
Jandy strides over immediately, taking the drink I’m offering. He lifts the cup to his lips and takes a long gulp. When he hands it back to me, his expression is one of pure disgust.
“Well, I never said it would taste any good,” I say, amused.
It wouldn’t, not with the particular mix of plants I put in it earlier. The blend is courtesy of Violet Sorrengail, who taught me the ingredients, although back then the only reason we wanted to use it was to get out of whatever event we were being required to smile and look pretty at. This is the first time I’ve used it on someone else, but I’m assuaging my guilt by telling myself that it won’t make Jandy feel much worse than he probably already does.
It’s laughable, really, how easy it was to get my guard to drink it.
“I won’t be leaving this room for a couple of hours,” I assure Jandy. “I’m sure you understand.”
I wink, and Jandy chuckles. “I’ll be right outside then.”
“I’m not up for seeing anyone right now,” I say to his retreating back.
Jandy nods his head in understanding as he shuts the door.
Now I just have to wait a few more hours. Unfortunately the concoction doesn’t work immediately, but I chose it because it didn’t require me to gather anything that was outside of the kitchens. Besides, being one of the first candidates wouldn’t work in my favor. The closer to the end of Conscription I can get, the less time there is for anyone to even notice I’m missing.
I spend the next few hours deciding on what I should and can pack in my rucksack. Right on cue, Jandy comes into my room again. If he looked a little green before, he looks positively ashen now.
I tut at him. “Hangover cure not working?”
He can’t even speak. Just shakes his head, hands clutched to his stomach tightly.
I roll my eyes and jerk my head towards my bath chamber. “You can use mine. I’ll pour you some water.”
He looks grateful to me as he rushes towards the toilet, which brings out my guilt again. Here he thinks I’m being a generous prince, when I’m the reason he’ll be puking his guts out for the rest of the day.
I do bring him a large pitcher of water, at least. Partly because I’m not a complete asshole. Mostly because it gives me the chance to plant my next seed.
“Here,” I say as I place the water pitcher on the sink right next to his head, which is already hovering over the toilet while he retches. “I’m heading out.” That’s true, at least. “I’ll ask for another guard until tomorrow evening.”
By then, I’m scheduled to be on a boat sailing toward the next stop in my grand tour. Jandy will be halfway in the wrong direction by the time he realizes I never actually found another guard.
Jandy nods into the toilet. I doubt he even notices when I leave the room, grab my pack, and shut the door behind me.
I’m less concerned about getting from here to the Rider’s Quadrant turret than I was about shaking my guard. I’ve learned that walking hurriedly is the fastest way to look suspicious, so I take my time and don’t hesitate to nod at anyone who notices me. The room I stay in whenever I’m here is located in the central part of the fortress, so thankfully it doesn’t take long before I’m striding out of the main gate.
Another good thing about arriving a few hours after Conscription started: it’s so crowded and chaotic by now that no one will look too closely at me. They’re all too focused on their goodbyes to notice yet another candidate making his way to his chosen quadrant.
Quickly, I pass the crowds of Infantry, Healers, and Scribes until I arrive at the long line in front of the unassuming door that will lead me to the stone bridge high above me. I’m not excited about how long I’ll have to wait before I even get there, but it’s not like I have much of a choice.
In an attempt to stop myself from shuffling nervously, I take a good look at the guy in front of me. He’s huge, and he must feel my gaze on him because he looks over his shoulder at me. When we lock eyes, he just glares at me.
Well, then. It’s not like I’m looking to make friends anyway.
I hold his gaze, making sure he knows that he won’t intimidate me that easily. I have no doubt that I have more practice when it comes to unspoken threats. Political affairs can be less obvious than the brute force this guy is probably accustomed to, but they’re no less lethal.
Sure enough, the guy breaks eye contact first. Trying to act as if it was his plan all along, he glances at whoever’s lined up directly behind me now. His eyes narrow, then he sneers. “Guess they’ll let anyone in these days.”
“Yeah,” I hear from the person at my back. It’s clearly a female voice. Also clear as day? She’s pissed. “The Rider’s Quadrant must not be all it’s cracked up to be if you’re a candidate.”
Biting back a laugh, I turn around to say something encouraging in response. But the words get caught in my throat as soon as I see the woman who spoke.
She’s fucking breathtaking. Even with the scowl plastered on her beautiful face.
Her blonde hair is loose and falling around her slim shoulders. Sky-blue eyes are set within a heart-shaped face with a dusting of barely noticeable freckles along a pert nose. And her mouth - gods, it takes everything in me not to lean down and taste that shapely mouth right then and there.
I’m still standing there like an idiot, jaw hanging open ridiculously wide, when she lifts her hand and throws me her middle finger.
No, not me. The barbarian behind me, who I’ve somehow completely forgotten about already.
I whip back around just as he hisses at her, “Watch your back, traitor spawn. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s looking forward to killing one of you.”
Somehow the line has moved quickly enough that we’re already almost at the door, so there won’t be much more time to continue this verbal sparring. This asshole’s last words strike me, and I have a sneaking suspicion that the woman distracted me so much that I missed the most important thing about her.
I glance back quickly and, yep, there it is. The rebellion relic wrapped around her arm. I can’t help the sharp intake of breath that escapes me.
She notices my reaction and her scowl deepens, if that’s even possible. I’m sure she’s used to the stares. She must assume that I hate her on sight, since the only other plausible reaction is fear, and I’m not one to give off those sort of vibes.
But she’s wrong. I don’t hate her. I just hate that the one person who’s knocked the wind out of me for the first time in…well, ever, really…is someone I’ll need to keep my guard up around at all times.
Which probably means I’ll just have to avoid her at all costs. Because if my initial reaction to her is any indication, she’ll be able to push through my defenses as if they’re fucking sandcastles.
“Got something to add?” The woman interrupts my spiraling thoughts.
“Uh, n-no,” I stammer. For fuck’s sake, I need to pull myself together. I clear my throat, then say so that only she can hear me, “That guy’s an asshole.”
I don’t miss the way her eyes widen in shock for the briefest of moments. She wasn’t expecting solidarity. But she quickly masks her expression into one of cool indifference.
“I’ve dealt with worse,” she says simply.
I have no doubt about that. But the stubborn set of her jaw, and the fact that she could have worn long sleeves to cover up her relic but chose not to, tells me that she doesn’t run away from a fight. She’s been dealt a shit hand in life, and she looks like she’s itching to give life shit right back because of it.
I guess the Rider’s Quadrant is perfect for her. Even if she hasn’t chosen it for herself.
“Still,” I say when I realize I’m still staring but not talking. “I’m sorry.”
She looks at me, almost confused. “Why are you sorry?”
Because my father ordered your parents to be killed, I think. Because my family has made your life a living hell.
“Do you have the same opinion of me as that jackass?” she continues. I shake my head, not certain I won’t blurt out exactly what I’m thinking if I open my mouth to respond. “Then don’t apologize unless you have a reason. Otherwise it’s just empty words.”
She truly has no idea how many empty words have filled my entire existence.
I’ve finally reached the open door into the turret, so I head into the darkness that’s only lit by the small windows along the staircase. I don’t need to touch the stone wall as I climb the hundreds of stairs, despite the fact that there’s no railing. There’s very few things I’m afraid of, and stairs and heights are neither of them.
I hear light steps behind me, which tells me that the woman I was drooling over is now climbing the stairs, too. There are a few murmured conversations both ahead of and below me, but I’m not close enough to be a part of any of them. I’m sure as shit not going to engage with the guy ahead of me. And words seem to escape me when it comes to the woman behind. So I just take the steps in silence for a while. I’m disturbed to find that I’m eerily attuned to the noises the woman is making, as if listening for her slight panting will reassure me that she’s made it this far.
“I’m Aaric,” I finally say in her direction.
I sneak a glance behind me as I speak. I only see the top of her blonde head since she’s looking down at her feet, but when she hears my words her head snaps up. Her blue eyes are hypnotizing, but I force myself to face forward again so I don’t tumble down the stairs in sheer stupidity.
“Trying to make friends already?” she asks my back. I can hear her smirk even though I can’t see it.
I snort. “Fuck no. Allies, maybe.”
“Might be more worth your time to do that once you know both of us won’t fall to our deaths in the next few minutes.” She sounds casual, but I can sense a hint of real concern.
I turn my head to her again, making sure she’s looking right in my eyes as I say firmly, “We won’t. Neither of us.”
I’ve never once been worried that I wouldn’t make it to Threshing at least. If Alic of all people could make it that far, then I know I can. He definitely didn’t have the strategic mind that Halden or I do.
Her? She’ll survive through sheer force of will. I’m certain of it. Or maybe I just need it to be true.
Fuck, I hope she’s put in a Wing far far away from me. I’m already letting her consume too much of my thoughts.
“Sloane,” she finally says, right as we near the top and the line halts.
I nod in acknowledgment, and she does the same. Then we fall silent again, taking slow steps forward as the people before us start to walk the parapet.
When I reach the entrance where three riders are waiting, I give Sloane one more word of encouragement. “See you on the other side.”
Then I turn to the two riders in front of me, but eyes are locked on the asshole in front of me, now halfway down the stone wall and throwing some poor kid down into the ravine. I ball my hands into fists, knowing exactly what he’ll try to do to Sloane if he ever gets her alone.
“Nam-“ the small woman in front of me starts, but she doesn’t finish her sentence. I pull my focus from the parapet to look at her right as she says, “Cam?”
It doesn’t register with me immediately that no one should know my name. I’m so used to people saying it, after all. But then I realize that I know exactly who the woman staring at me in shock is.
Violet Sorrengail.
Shit. Isn’t it just my luck that I run into someone who recognizes me before I even cross the parapet. I thought the mix I convinced my guard to drink would be the extent of my aid from Violet today, but apparently not. If she’s going to help me right now at all.
What the fuck is Violet even doing here? Last I heard she was set for the Scribe Quadrant.
“Aaric,” I say pointedly. Then I finish with, “Greycastle.”
Violet looks unimpressed. “Did you make that up?” she whispers. “Because it’s awful.”
And yeah, now that I’m actually saying it out loud instead of in my head, I can’t disagree. Not that I’ll let it show. “Aaric. Greycastle,” I repeat through clenched teeth.
It feels like my heart is beating so loudly in my chest that I wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear it. If she decides to call me out, there’s not much I can do. This will all be over before I’ve even had time to do anything . But I don’t want to show any fear or anxiety, so I lift my chin in the same haughty way I’ve learned from my father and brothers. I may hate that I’m part of this family when it comes to the secrets they’re hiding, but I’m sure as hell happy that it’s given me the confidence - some might say arrogance - that’s necessary to make it through my first year in this Quadrant.
Violet glances over to someone over by the wall next to the parapet entrance. I follow her gaze and internally groan when I notice that it’s Dain Aetos.
He looks good. A little more hardened, but definitely just as handsome as he’s always been. My reaction to Sloane was like a bonfire, but my reaction to Dain is like the sun: warm, familiar, necessary to life. It was my crush on him that had first clued me into the fact that I wasn’t just attracted to women.
Not that I ever thought I had a chance with him, given his relationship with Violet. My crush on him was also my first unrequited one.
I haven’t seen either of them in…gods, I don’t even know how long. And Zihnal decided that today would be the day we have a little reunion? I knew Dain would be in the Quadrant, but I was hoping I’d be able to avoid him until I was bonded. I hadn’t even considered the fact that he would be there right from the beginning.
Between Sloane and Dain, I’m feeling a little less sure about being able to keep my focus for the next few months.
Dain looks at me with concern and asks, “You sure about this? You cross the parapet and there’s no going back.”
Exactly, I think to myself. But I don’t say it out loud. Instead, I just nod.
“Aaric Greycastle,” Violet repeats to the dark-skinned woman next to her. The woman writes the name down, but I can tell that she knows something is off about this whole situation. I glance back at Sloane, and it’s clear that she’s trying to figure out what’s going on, too. Shit. I’m ready to get this over with before either woman starts asking questions about the hold-up.
“Does your father know?” Dain murmurs to me.
He says it quietly, but it’s still enough to make me pray to the gods no one besides the four of us can hear. Five of us, if Sloane heard him. It wouldn’t take much for people to wonder who my father is and why it matters before they put two and two together. While I appreciate his concern, I need to stop him from continuing this line of questioning, so I step up to the parapet and roll my shoulders. I say, “It’s none of his business. I’m twenty.”
“Right, because that’s going to make a difference when he realizes what you’re doing,” Dain retorts, ripping his hand through his hair. “He’ll kill us all.”
Dain seems more distressed than I would expect him to be. I don’t have time to think about why that might be, since time is ticking. If he’s going to end this for me before it even begins, I just want him to do it already. “Are you going to tell him?”
Dain shakes his head and looks at Violet. The two of them have always been thick as thieves, so I know he’ll go along with whatever she decides. Violet just looks annoyed. Whether that’s at me or at him I can’t tell, but I’ll take the silence as an opportunity to move this along.
“Good, then do me a favor and ignore me,” I say.
“We’re Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing,” Violet says to me.
Dain opens his mouth, but Violet shakes her head at him and says, “Not today.” He snaps his mouth shut immediately.
That’s…an interesting new dynamic. The two of them used to be inseparable, to my great disappointment. My mind immediately runs through what that means for me as if I were thirteen years old again.
I push those thoughts away. Godsdamn there have already been so many distractions today.
Shaking my head in frustration, I adjust my pack and start walking across the parapet, the wind whipping against my face. The narrow stone walkway stretches ahead, high above the ground, and even though I know I’ll reach the other side, the sheer drop still makes my pulse quicken. My boots scuff the weathered stone as I force myself to move forward, steady and sure, the vast sky pressing in from all sides.
“Who was that?” I hear the dark-skinned woman ask behind me, but I don’t have the luxury of hearing the answer to her question. All I can do is focus on the narrow strip of stone beneath my feet as I take my first steps to become a rider.