21. A Knight in Distress

The morning after Jo's catastrophic duel with One, I tip-toe inside the infirmary. A dozen single beds furnish the long rectangular room, but all of them are empty except for the one Jo is laying in. A few rays of sunlight filter through the diamond-shaped windows, and the smell of clean laundry and antiseptic tickles my nose.

"Good morning. Lori told me I'd find you here," I greet my patient.

"I'm glad to finally meet you properly, Nell." The tall brown-haired man puts his book aside and shifts awkwardly over the white duvet, his broken leg stabilized by an external brace. Dark circles drag down his eyes and spell out exactly how his night went. "I'm Joseph, but everyone calls me Jo."

My lips quirk. "I caught that."

"I assume you came to heal me?" The end of the sentence rises in question, more out of politeness than doubt.

"Yes." Guilt heats my cheeks for not healing him yesterday. Despite One's memorable speech, I don't think anyone should be made to suffer.

Jo sighs in relief. "You're a lifesaver. If it wasn't for you, I would be out of commission for the entire season."

"It must hurt like a horseshoe in the brow."

"Ha-ha—that it does. Is that what they say in the old world?" Not waiting for an actual answer, Jo sits up. His knuckles turn white on the mattress as he dangles his injured leg over the edge of the bed. "Cary did his best to get me through the night, but he's no true healer."

Upon closer inspection, the fracture does look a little less appalling than yesterday. I kneel next to the bed and unfasten the bandages holding the brace in place. "One wouldn't have snapped your leg in two if he hadn't known someone could heal it."

"Don't be so sure. He hates me."

I draw power from the clean air, the creaky bed, and the solid ground. Power numbs my fingertips as his leg starts to shrink down to its normal size, and I tilt my head slightly to the side, waiting for Jo to elaborate.

"The king commandeered a great hunt to make up for the lack of seedlings this year. He sent us after the minotaur, but per usual, One wanted to control everything. He treats me like I'm inferior to him even though he was a sepal once, too," he says.

Wait… What?

My gaze snaps up to meet his, and my magic waivers. A faint pop rises from the half-healed leg, the surprise distracting me from my goal.

Jo clears his throat to mask a wince, his face angled away from his injured leg.

"Sorry." I rub my palms together to soothe the uncomfortable tingles and give myself a second to recharge.

"It's alright. You're new to this. But yeah, it's a bit of an open secret around here that the triplets must have been the last stigmas before Morrigan. They've got pointy ears, but it's easy enough to fake that with the right glamor. And they never remove their masks… That's not normal."

I consider his words carefully. "Are you sure they're not Fae?"

"I mean—they claim to be Fae, but Fae don't act so paranoid all the time." He shrugs like it's not a big deal one way or the other, but if the triplets aren't Fae, it means they can lie. It would shift my world on its axis.

I return my attention to his leg and let the magic flow.

"It must have been lonely here the last few weeks. James doesn't seem like much of a talker, and the redhead fawns over Two like a heifer in heat…" he says.

He's not wrong, and I press my lips together not to laugh. "Who's Morrigan?"

"Oh, she's a legend. Morrigan was the last stigma to complete the training process, and they say she got so powerful, she rivaled the king himself. Normally, becoming a stigma means immortality, glory—it's the ultimate reward for someone like us, but Morrigan…" He pauses for a few seconds. "The sprites say that she fell in love with a hunter, and that, on the eve of her wedding, the king killed her in a fit of jealousy."

Goosebumps prickle my neck. "Which hunter?"

Jo lowers his voice and glances at the door behind me like he's about to tell me something he shouldn't. "That's where the story gets muddled. A High Lord said that the man fled to another court after she died, but another claimed it was one of the triplets…"

I hold my breath.

Jo continues, "Isobel Umbra told me there used to be tons of people living in and out of the castle. When she was younger, the king would throw grand soirées for the gentry, and visitors from the other courts would stay for weeks at a time. There'd be music in the halls. Laughter. Children." He licks his lips, the mystery of the Shadow Court clearly gnawing at him, too. "But one day, about eighty years ago, the Shadow King shut his doors to the world, and now, only the High Fae of the shadow realm are allowed to visit. A few sprites take care of the grounds, but they've been working here for centuries, and then there's us… The entire realm is basically suspended in time."

"No wonder the castle is so empty." I dry my sweaty palms on my pants. "There. All done."

Jo's eyes widen as he tests out his new leg. "You're awesome, Nell! It's not even sore or anything. You're going to be one hell of a sprout if you can do this as a seed. Thank you so much!"

A mix of pride and embarrassment brands my cheeks at his effusive praise. Now that we're both standing, he's got a few inches on me, and yet everything about him sets me at ease like we're old friends whispering alone in the infirmary.

I take a small step back. "You're welcome."

The book on his bedside table shines in the sunlight, and I pick it up, looking for a swift change of subject. "History of the Shadow Realms, a Tale of Love and Betrayal," I read out loud.

My heart beats faster. I've seen this book in the ledger. It's a third-floor book. Greed and longing squeeze my ribs as I run my fingers over the cover.

"It's romanticized a bit, but it details the fall of the last king, Ferdinand Morpheus Nocturna."

I leaf through the book, and the calligraphy is tiny but easy to read. "How long has it been since he passed?"

"Give or take a century. Damian rose to power right after his death."

I blink a few times at the revelation.. "So…the Shadow King is more than a hundred years old?"

"Yes."

I bite my bottom lip and shiver at the thought of what lays underneath his golden mask.

Jo doesn't seem put off by the idea of immortality, and a hint of longing pierces through his measured voice. "Coming from Demeter, you must be used to hereditary monarchies, but the Fae do things differently. It's a meritocracy—the strongest lion becomes king of the pride. You do have lions in the old world, right?"

I shake my head, still clutching the book.

"Damn, what a pity. It means that the strongest individual gets to rule. It's usually one of the High Fae from the shadow realms, but it doesn't have to be." He grazes the trim. "You don't have to read it all here. You can borrow it, if you want."

"Isn't that forbidden? I mean—" I look down, and my hair cascades down the side of my face. "It's a third-floor book."

A chuckle warms his breath. "Third-floor book…I like it. I'll make you a deal, milady." He presses his hands over mine for a second, long enough to make me blush. "I'll let you borrow the book to thank you for healing me, and no one has to know."

I gape at his playfulness. "Won't you get in trouble if someone finds out?"

"I can get in a little trouble to repay you for your kindness." He offers me his arm the way a young gentleman in Demeter would. The way Isaac used to. "I'm going to hit the buffet before I change, you wanna join?"

A smile escapes me. "Lead the way, milord."

Two interruptsmy early breakfast with Jo almost as soon as it begins. I made sure to hide the book deep in my bag, below the others, but I still check that the flap is safely clasped as the dark Fae comes to a full stop next to our table.

The sneer stuck on his face doesn't bode well for me, and my eyes narrow at the intrusion. "Good morning."

Two looks down his nose at us from behind his mask. "I guess I'm stuck with you now."

Sunshine reflects off the stony rings on each of his fingers as he cracks them one by one.

Jo makes a face somewhere between an eye-roll and a sheepish grin. "See you later, Nell."

Both hands braced on the table, I reluctantly stretch to my feet. "Thank you for this morning. It was fun."

"Thank you. You saved me."

Two tilts his head back and groans. "Stop flirting and come with me. I haven't got all day."

I hurry after him, choosing not to let his attitude affect me. "If you hated the idea of training me, why didn't you say no?"

If he likes Mara so much, maybe he can be persuaded to switch me back. After my discussion with Jo, I simply need to speak with One alone, and if I convince Two to send me straight back to him, it'll make things much easier.

"Is One that much more powerful that you have to obey him?" I ask with my best air of naiveté.

Two cranes his neck around to look at me. "Don't play with me. I won't switch you back. If One gave you to me, he must have had a reason."

"Hm. Maybe," I say wistfully.

That compels him to stop, and the pieces of broken glass covering his mask reflect a dozen fractured views of my mischievous grin. He opens his mouth to speak but thinks better of it and starts walking again.

If I can goad him into asking about the switch, I might tickle his curiosity. According to what I've witnessed so far, Two is in love with himself. Big male egos are usually best served with flattery, and I can be twice as charming as Mara if I put my mind to it.

I've got practice, the tournaments back home full of young men dying for praise. What a powerful horse you have here, Sir. Did you break him in yourself?

But I'm not sure what makes the second brother tick. I need to get him on my side first. Earn his respect.

One is clearly not inclined to share his secrets, but if Mara is to be believed, Two's a tattletale. With the right incentive, he might spill the beans about Morrigan. I might just be spinning fairy tales, but something about the story Jo told me simply rings true.