4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

U sually, the afternoon was the part of my shift that dragged on the longest. The mornings usually went by quickly, with far more happening in the royal wing of the palace at that time of day that required my attention.

But not today. Today, each second that passed felt like an hour as I waited for my midday break. Would Meera be there? I didn't want to think about how sorry for myself I would feel if she wasn't.

"You're restless today, Verner," the queen's confidant, Affra, remarked. She paused in the archway, heading out to go and visit her daughters as she usually did. "Is something amiss?"

"Not at all," I assured her, acutely aware of Andrus's interested gaze from the other side of the archway.

Affra hummed, not sounding altogether convinced. "Ah, it's probably nothing, isn't it? You're a good lad, you wouldn't lie to me." She gave Andrus a pointed look, making it very clear that he was not a good lad, and he huffed in response. Perhaps if he'd been a little more charming where Affra was concerned, she wouldn't be so ready to malign him. "It's just my daughters getting in my head, that's all."

"About what?" I asked curiously. Usually, Affra only made passing small talk with me at best.

"Lots of change about the place, I suppose."

"I've been hearing that a lot recently," I murmured.

She shrugged, a gesture she'd picked up from the queen. "They worry. Lots of unfamiliar faces at the palace. And they're afraid of Ophelia's sister."

I wished I could argue with that, but I wasn't overly fond of Astrid either. She was the kind of Hunter I despised. The kind who tore families apart.

"Change doesn't have to be a bad thing," I said, searching for words that might offer her some comfort while not being dismissive of her concerns.

"It doesn't," Affra agreed. "And I am very old, don't forget. I've seen much change in my lifetime. Sometimes motivated by a new generation with a different vision for the future, sometimes motivated by circumstance, and often motivated by anger. There's a lot of anger now. Angry Shades who can't travel to the human realm to feed—directing their ire at both the Hunters and the king.

"And that's a bad thing," I hedged, though her tone wasn't entirely conveying that. She sounded thoughtful, if anything.

"Not necessarily." Affra began moving away, her walk even slower than usual. Possibly because her energy was running low and she was reluctant to use the stores to feed when the entire realm was relying on them. "Anger is a powerful tool. Deadly. Efficient. Effective. But only if you wield it right."

On that chilling note, she went on her merry way, humming a cheerful tune under her breath.

Was she right? I'd never given the matter much thought before. Anger was not an emotion that had been encouraged growing up at Sunlis. No emotions had been encouraged there—anything other than a state of perfect calm had been seen as an embarrassing loss of control. I'd never really considered the potential of it as motivation.

"Terrifying old bag," Andrus muttered loudly.

I shot him a chastising look. "This is why she doesn't like you."

"The feeling is entirely mutual."

At least Affra's ominous words had given me plenty to consider, which helped the morning pass with a little more haste.

After stopping by my apartment and then the palace kitchen, I made my way down to Elverston House, my optimism tempered heavily by caution. Perhaps last night, in the moment, suggesting a friendship between us had seemed like a good idea, but there was always the chance Meera had woken up and changed her mind. She was certainly more reticent than the others—with the exception of Astrid—to put herself out there.

Bracing myself for disappointment, I followed the shrub-lined curved path until the full building came into sight and nearly dropped what I was carrying.

There she was. Sitting cross-legged on the ground on the Elverston-side of the invisible line, glowing in a loose pale-yellow top.

Friends , I reminded myself. She wanted a friend .

Though, surely, noticing how enchanting she looked in yellow was a friendly thing to do?

Meera waved tentatively as I approached, and some of the tension in my shoulders eased. Undoubtedly, there would be some awkwardness, but she wanted to see me. She wanted me here. That was the most important thing.

"Hello, Meera. How are you?" I asked, lowering myself to the ground opposite her on my side of the line. It wasn't until I was sitting that I realized how much the overgrown foliage around Elverston House obscured us from view. What had once been manicured garden beds had become almost a jungle after at least a decade of neglect.

Had Meera noticed how private this spot was when she sat down? Surely not, or she wouldn't have chosen it. She struck me as particularly safety conscious.

"I'm good, thank you. How are you?"

"Very well. I brought some things for us for lunch." I handed her two small packages wrapped in paper and tied with twine.

"Oh. You shouldn't have." Meera's smile was tight as she unwrapped the first one, peeking inside it before carefully wrapping it back up again. "I really appreciate it, thank you. But I don't eat meat."

"You don't?"

She shook her head. "I never have. I was raised vegetarian."

For a brief moment, I longed for the shadows of my ancestors to surround me here and now and bring me home. How had I made a blunder so quickly?

"That one doesn't have any meat in it," I said apologetically, nodding at the second package. "It's sweet. A traditional cake from my part of the realm."

"Ooh, I love cake. Did Calix make this?"

I almost laughed at the idea of the mad chef attempting anything so delicate. "No. My parents brought a large stash of it from home for me."

Of course, it was simple enough for me to visit Sunlis and purchase some for myself, but I rarely did. I was too well-known there. I couldn't simply move around the place in peace, getting what I needed. Every trip was a production.

Though, if Meera enjoyed it, I suspected that I would happily schedule more trips home on my days off.

I set aside my own meal as Meera carefully unwrapped it, smiling slightly as the thin gray layers were revealed, stacked in circles that fit into the palm of her hand.

"It's wobbly."

"It's steamed." That was all I really knew about it, but it gave it a sticky, wobbly texture.

I watched, probably too intently, as Meera nibbled on the edge of the cake before shooting me a beaming smile. "This is so good. It tastes like… coconut? It's not quite the same, but that's the closest match I can think of. Thank you so much, Verner."

"No problem." I slid the cake I'd brought for myself across to her, already intending to bring her a larger portion the next time I saw her from my stash. "Have both since I'm going to be eating all the meat."

"Oh, are you sure?"

"Very, I have plenty more back at the apartment. And I can always go home and collect more."

"I guess it isn't hard to travel places in the shadow realm, not like where I'm from. Do you visit home often?" Meera asked, taking a bigger bite this time while I unwrapped my lunch.

"Not really. My parents would like it if I visited more often." Meera glanced at me curiously before determinedly looking away as though mentally telling herself not to pry. When first meeting her, it seemed like she was less expressive than the others, but I suspected that she was just expressive in different ways. Ways that required paying a little more attention. "They're very set in their ways. Sometimes, it can be tiring to be around them, constantly hearing about how the old ways were better and how the world is falling apart around us. That kind of thing. Does that happen in the human realm?"

Meera pressed her lips tightly together, eyes briefly sparkling with what I hoped was amusement. "Oh yes. That is definitely a universal experience."

I waited, starting on my first portion of roasted meat and hoping that she'd elaborate a little more. Life in the human realm had always intrigued me—it was probably why I'd stayed in the Guard for so long. We spent more time there than most other Shades, who only stopped in briefly to feed. Well, back in the before times. Who knew when we'd be able to return to the human realm to feed again?

"I don't really know how to do this," Meera said after a long stretch of silence, gesturing between us. "I haven't had friends in a long time."

"That seems impossible," I replied, not necessarily intending to say it out loud, but instantly affronted on her behalf. How could such a sweet, gentle soul not be surrounded by loyal friends at all times?

"It's not a unique story among those of us who have come here." Meera's soothing voice was an instant balm to my irritation. "Only Astrid was actually beloved by the Hunters prior to leaving. The rest of us were outcasts. We've all angered the higher-ups in the Hunters and lost everyone we loved because of it." She shrugged uncomfortably, and my muscles ached with the effort of not reaching for her. "In all honesty, it's taken a little of the righteous wind out of my sails, coming here and realizing just how very un -unique my experience was."

"That doesn't make it any less profound."

A glimmer—the faintest hint— of a smile played around Meera's mouth before her expression returned to its state of neutrality. "No, I suppose not. Not to me . Inconveniently, I never developed humor or charm as coping mechanisms the way the others seem to have done."

"You seem plenty charming to me. And life would be very dull if we were all the same. Though, I can relate in a sense. I always liked the idea of being funny, but the skill hasn't manifested for me, unfortunately."

"Oh good. Then neither of us will be the funny one in this friendship."

"Or perhaps that means we both are?" I teased. There was that glimmer of a smile again, that tempting hint of what it could be.

Meera's lips did tip up from time to time, but I couldn't call it a real smile. Having watched the other ex-Hunters and observed life in the human realm, I knew that the eyes were a crucial component. I'd never seen Meera's eyes smile.

And while I'd caught faint hints of sweetness in her scent, I'd never smelled the pure joy that the queen was usually cloaked in. I was probably more familiar with it than most, since it lingered in the corridors of the royal wing.

Joy, as well as another emotion that Queen Ophelia probably wouldn't appreciate the palace guards scenting.

She took another bite of cake, chewing it thoughtfully. "So, you didn't grow up at the palace then?"

I shook my head. The fact that she'd asked gave me a clear idea of the kinds of Shades she'd been talking to during feasts in the dining hall. "My family visited court fairly infrequently. I didn't spend much time here until I joined the Guard."

"Do you like being part of the Guard?"

The question briefly stunned me into silence. Had I ever been asked that before? Freedom had been the deciding factor in joining the Guard, not enjoyment. An escape from the boring predictability of life at Sunlis, and a chance to see the world and meet a variety of Shades.

"I suppose I do. I enjoy being… useful. I like to help."

Meera tilted her head to the side, her long dark hair rippling around her like water. "Do you like fighting?"

"Well, no. Not really," I said slowly. I was physically strong and generally considered to be a calm, reliable presence, which was how I'd been promoted up through the ranks. But I'd never developed the thirst for violence that many other members of the Guard seemed to possess, and I desperately hoped I never did. "Fighting, to me, is always the last and least desirable option. Though I don't have to do much of it, not now. For my current post, temperament was the deciding factor in how I got the role."

I'd never understand how Andrus had been promoted up through the ranks. Perhaps there just wasn't much competition.

"What is it you did in the human realm?" I asked, wanting to shift the subject back to my far more interesting companion.

"My main job was as a doula. I helped with childbirth—with the whole process. Pregnancy, birth, postpartum."

"And did you enjoy it?"

She pursed her lips, and I did my best to memorize the interesting shape. A Shade's mouth was so unexpressive in comparison.

"It was very rewarding, but it wasn't what I wanted to do. The Hunters Council pays for our education, and I'd meant to study nursing. But when everything… happened, they pulled my financial support. I'd already been accepted into college, and maybe if I'd been more levelheaded, I would have figured out how to get a loan in time, but I didn't. Everything fell apart, and I gave up on the idea of college and ran away to start over."

"That must have been painful." Much of the context of her words made no sense to me, but the lingering ache of the wound was obvious.

"It was a long time ago now."

"Then perhaps the pain is less sharp than it once was."

Meera looked at me thoughtfully for a long moment in a way that no one else really had. I was solid. Reliable. And, for the most part, somewhat indistinguishable.

I wasn't one to be looked at closely.

"How was it that you came to be a doula after that? You must have been very determined to make that happen on your own."

It had merely been an observation—how could she not be determined after going through something so difficult?—but Meera's scent sweetened as though I'd given her a great compliment. I silently scolded myself for not coming up with one better.

"I cleaned motels for a couple of years and worked at bars until I could save up enough for the training—fortunately, they had a payment plan because I was… well, let's just say I wasn't in a good place financially. I worked for myself, but I was only just starting out before I came here, so I still worked at a bar to supplement my income." She gave me a wry smile. "Honestly, who knows if it would have even worked out—I wasn't particularly business-savvy, and I struggled with that side of things, even though I loved supporting parents, and helping bring those tiny babies into the world. But if it hadn't worked out, I'd have figured something else out. If I pride myself on anything, it's my resilience."

"Yes, I can certainly tell you're resilient," I agreed, though I was a little saddened by that fact. Meera's strength was admirable, but she'd suffered to gain it.

I wondered if she wanted children of her own? I didn't want to give her the wrong impression by asking. In my experience, children were intimidating little creatures and I didn't feel anywhere near ready for them, though as the heir to Sunlis, I would be expected to produce at least one someday.

"What about—" she began.

"Meera!" Verity yelled, her voice easily distinguishable as the loudest of all of them who lived in Elverston House. "Are you out here?"

Meera started guiltily, scrambling to her feet so fast that her hair caught in the overgrowth.

"I'll be right there!" she called over her shoulder, tugging the strands free so roughly that I winced.

I stood and reached over, taking the now empty wrappers from her hand.

"Would you like me to wait here until you've gone back inside?" I asked, indicating the vines and branches that hid us from view.

"Is that okay?" she asked guiltily. It was clear that Meera wanted to keep this meeting between the two of us, and I felt oddly bereft about it.

What did you expect, Verner? For her to parade you around the grounds? She doesn't even know you.

"Yes, of course."

Meera's hands flexed at her sides. "I think you're too nice to be my friend. Or I'm too selfish."

I frowned. "I don't think that at all."

"No, I definitely am. If I was nice, I'd call the others over and introduce you because you're wonderful, and I'm sure you'd all get along." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I will do that. Eventually. But maybe I could keep you to myself a little longer?"

Keep me to yourself forever. But I couldn't say that thought out loud.

"I would like that," I assured her. "Perhaps I could return here with lunch another time? I'll bring more ojurac. And something else without meat," I added hastily.

"Just the ojurac would be amazing," Meera replied, that faint smile touching her lips again. "It's surprisingly difficult being a vegetarian here—better if I handle that side of things myself. Same time tomorrow?"

Hopefully, my surprise didn't register on my face. I hadn't expected for her to want to see me again so soon.

"Of course."

I suspected there wasn't a single thing this woman could ask of me that I'd be able to deny her.