Chapter 16

A fter aimlessly wandering around the castle and not finding the young magician, I finally get tired of all the stares and whispers following me, so I head to the one place I've always found peaceful. The farther I walk away from the main part of the castle, the quieter it gets, and as I reach the Queen's Courtyard and push through the doors, I smile when I see it's completely empty.

Although the country is in the grips of winter, with the pale sun breaking through the clouds and a gentle breeze caressing my skin, it's pleasantly warm and I don't need to worry about a cloak. The four fountains are working, the gentle sound of flowing water and the chirping of birds are the only sounds I can hear. Around each fountain is a circular border of exotic plants and flowers, with a stone bench built into each. As I stroll through the courtyard, I marvel at how peaceful it is even though it's surrounded by the castle on all sides. I've never seen anyone in here, only ever the occasional person hurrying through to get to the chapel on the other side.

I reach out and brush my fingers against the plants, a gentle smile on my face as I amble around each fountain, admiring them. The plants are that of some of the southern cities in Arhaven, the land is very different there. Where we have long winters and mountains, the other side of our kingdom—where we originated from—is full of deserts, rainforests, and pounding heat. By all means, these plants shouldn't survive here, but I can feel the faint, sticky feeling of magic coating them, and it makes me wonder who would waste magic keeping these plants alive when no one ever visits them.

Following the path of the fountain, I continue around until I reach one of the stone benches, taking a seat parallel to the other fountain. It's going to be a busy day and I can already feel the tension building in my neck. These days, where I'm required to be Lady Clarissa, I find them harder than when I'm working down in the underground room. Even though I'm humiliated and beaten, I don't feel like I have to pretend. Maybe some part of me still thinks I deserve it? Yet, if I follow the teachings of the priests, I have been deemed worthy of her blessing, and one step further than that, I've been given her mark. Instinctively, I reach across and touch the symbol, actually the words, in the language of the Goddess.

My beloved. A tingle runs through me, along with a sense of love, and I know that she's with me. Then why is it so hard for me to be Lady Clarissa? This is my life now.

My thoughts turn to the elf. Will he wonder where I am? I've been working in the underground chamber for the last five days. Will he think it's strange that I'm not there today? He mostly ignores me, but when the guards come to get me, he always stops his labour and watches them beat me. At first, I thought it was because he enjoyed it, enjoyed seeing a human being struck, but I've come to realise that the anger I see in his eyes is not aimed at me. When he observes and our eyes meet, and I get the feeling he is urging me to be strong. Sometimes, when I feel like I'm going to pass out from the pain, I think I can hear him. That strange pull, the tug that I always feel when he's around, it's like it connects us, and my delirious brain thinks that he's talking to me through it. Telling me I can get past it and not to let them win. I know it's all a delusion, that I'm not actually hearing him, that some part of my brain is creating what I need in that moment, but it's comforting nonetheless.

"Lady Clarissa?" The voice catches me so unaware that a shocked gasp escapes me as I twist on the bench to see who snuck up on me. Eyes widening, I quickly jump to my feet as I see Prince Jacob and, sketching an awkward, shaking curtsy, I try to calm my pounding heart. I never, never would have let someone get so close to me without my knowing before. What about me being "Lady Clarissa" turns the instinct off? Do I truly feel so safe that I drop all of my reflexes?

"Please, don't worry about that." His voice is closer now and his hand appears in my field of vision. Placing my hand in his, I straighten up and take in his slightly chagrined expression. "I'm sorry if I startled you."

"Don't apologise, Your Highness. My thoughts were miles away."

"You looked like you had a lot on your mind. Is there anything I can do to help?" He sounds sincere, and there's a slight crinkle between his brows as he gestures for me to sit back down. Perching on the bench, I shuffle over to make room for him next to me.

"That's very kind, Your Highness—"

"Stop with the ‘Your Highness.' I thought I told you to call me Jacob." At first I think he's angry, but his smile tells me otherwise as he angles himself closer to me.

Raising my eyebrows at him, I look around to check that no one can overhear us. He must know that if I was caught calling him by his first name that I would be whipped, or worse. "I didn't want anyone to overhear me calling you that and think I was overly familiar," I reply in the politest way I can phrase it, as that's the other risk. People might think that the prince and I are… being intimate, and then Grayson would find out. I don't know why that is so important to me, it's not like I don't like the prince. He's handsome and kind, and there isn't anything going on between the high mage and me, but I can't help but think back to last night when I sat in his lap.

"You don't need to worry. No one really comes here," Jacob informs me, interrupting my musings, although I blush slightly at being caught out. "Do you know why?"

Shaking my head, a grin spreads across his face. "They say it's haunted." I bark out a chuckle before covering my hand with my mouth. Ladies don't laugh like that, but then Jacob starts laughing too, his infectious amusement encouraging my humour. Once we've settled down again, he picks up his story.

"This courtyard was created by my father for my mother. I'm not sure what was here before, there are no records in the library—I checked." Of course he did. That is exactly what I would expect of the scholar who was born as a prince. Smiling at his comment, I nod for him to continue his story.

"My mother was married before she married my father. She was the daughter of an important lord, and very young at the time—just turned eighteen. She was married off to one of the men from the mountain tribes." I can't hide my surprise at this piece of information. I had heard the queen had lost a lover and this was her place of mourning, but I didn't know the other details.

Nodding, the prince continues, "Her and her new husband lived in Morrowmer, but he had to travel back to his people a lot. It's said that they loved each other very much, despite her young age, and that the match was made for them. She and my father met at some of the court gatherings. I know that he had designs on her, but since she was married, she was untouchable. He was older than her and had just inherited the throne when his father, my grandfather, abdicated." I hum in acknowledgement, leaning back against the bench as I listen.

"One day, when her husband was on his way back from visiting his tribe, he was attacked by the elves and killed." My heart aches for the queen. I knew this story wasn't going to end well, but I can't imagine how much pain she must have been in, losing a husband so young. "My mother was not only a widow at eighteen after losing the love of her life, but her father had also just died—she was distraught. She knew she would have to marry again if she was to survive. My father was there when she needed him, and eventually they were married and the rest is history." He smiles, gesturing to the space we're sitting in. "This courtyard was built for her as a place of reflection, for her to visit when she needed to escape, a place of mourning."

We are silent for a couple of minutes as I mull over everything he just told me, but it's not a strained quiet, it's comfortable, companionable. "That's a sad story," I finally reply, before raising my eyebrows with a small, teasing smile. "It doesn't explain the rumour of it being haunted though."

"Ah, the rumour is that his ghost lingers here, trying to find his way back to his lost love." Shuddering at the thought of being stuck here after death, I can't help but shake my head.

"That's funny, I've never found this place anything but calming." Looking around the space, I let a small, peaceful smile tug at my lips as I listen to the soft trickling of the running water, enjoying the silent presence of the prince next to me.

"Are you attending today's meal?"

The question comes out of nowhere and I frown as I sit forward to look at him. "Why do people keep asking me that? I thought it was mandatory?"

"It is." He shrugs, not answering my query before tilting his head to one side as he contemplates something. "You've become a bit of a mystery, Lady Clarissa."

"I see, you get to call me by my title, but I can't call you by yours."

"Oh hush, I'm teasing," he says with a grin, and I can't help but return it. "You see, you appeared out of nowhere on the day of the choosing ceremony on the arm of one of the most eligible men in the kingdom, and a high mage at that. You are then blessed in a way no one has ever witnessed before, only to disappear. You don't attend court, or any of the other social things noble ladies seem to enjoy. You're a mystery, one that I, and many other noblemen, would like to get to know better."

My heart jumps into overdrive, pounding in my chest as I jump to my feet. I can't afford for people to think I'm different, I'm supposed to be blending in. But if the prince has heard I'm not acting how the other ladies do, then I'm not doing a very good job of it. Jacob's eyes widen at my panic and he stands, reaching out as if to stop me from leaving, but I back away. "I better go, Grayson will be looking for me."

"Are the two of you together?" His voice sounds calm, like he's asking about the weather, but his fists are clenched until I shake my head.

"No."

"Then I'm going to keep pursuing you until you tell me to leave you alone."

I should tell him now, tell him to leave me be, that I don't want his advances, but for some reason that I can't explain, I hold my tongue. Instead, I nod and turn away, retracing my steps and heading back into the castle.

Hearing a hurried set of footsteps behind me, I glance over my shoulder to see Jacob striding towards me, his charming smile in place as he offers me his arm.

"Let me escort you, we are going to the same place, after all." My heart flutters in my chest as he links my arm with his, that ever-present blush reappearing on my cheeks with the contact.

"I'm supposed to meet—"

As if just thinking about the mage had summoned him, Grayson strides around the corner, stopping in his tracks as he sees me with the prince, his eyes going straight to our linked arms. All of a sudden, my skin feels like it's alive, every nerve ending alight as a wave of dizziness overtakes me. Closing my eyes, I take a moment to centre myself before opening them again, only to see myself linking arms with the prince.

What in the underworld is going on? Perhaps I'm coming down with a fever and it's making me delirious. Raising my hand to my head, I try to feel my skin to test if I have a temperature, except my hand doesn't move.

Why is she with him? She's blushing, I bet he's working his charm on her. She wouldn't be so close to him if she knew the truth. The thoughts keep coming, except they aren't my thoughts. Distinctly masculine, they feel familiar. She looks so beautiful in the dress. Who are you kidding, she always looks beautiful, even in those rags the first day you found her.

Grayson. These are Grayson's thoughts. I'm in his head. In a panic, I fling myself against his mind, hurling myself back into my own body. What just happened?

Looking between the two men, I'm relieved to see that neither of them look suspicious, especially not Grayson who is just scowling at the prince.

"Clarissa," he greets me, his voice cold but polite. "Prince Jacob." Acknowledging me before the prince would be a whipable offence if it was anyone else other than Grayson, but being a high mage has its advantages. Shuffling my feet awkwardly, I glance between them.

"High Magician," Jacob replies, with barely concealed dislike, before turning to me with a bright smile that promises all sorts of trouble. "It's been a pleasure, Lady Clarissa, I look forward to seeing you at the ball tonight. Perhaps you'll save me a dance?"

He doesn't give me time to respond before taking my hand in his and raising it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against my skin before scowling at Grayson and striding away. Watching his back as he leaves, I contemplate asking him to take me with him rather than having to deal with a now grumpy Grayson.

"What did he want?"

Flinching at the malice in his voice, I step back, putting some space between us, not that he notices, his narrowed eyes are still locked on the retreating prince. I debate not telling him, but I know that will only make him think we were discussing him.

"He was telling me a story about the Queen's Courtyard." This pulls his attention back to me, but his frown is still in full force. Before he can launch a barrage of questions regarding what we discussed, I decide to give him some of his own medicine. He seems to respond better to direct questions, so that's what I'll do. "What is your problem with him?"

Surprisingly, his defensive posture droops and he lets out a sigh, rubbing a hand across his tanned face. Closing the distance between us, he places a hand on my arm and starts to lead me through the corridor back towards the main part of the castle.

"The magicians and the royals have a bit of a tenuous relationship."

Confusion rolls through me. How is it a tenuous relationship when they work together against the elves? "But you fight for our safety. The magicians protect us, protect the kingdom."

"I'm glad you see it that way."

Frowning, I know there's more to this story than what he's telling me, but we're entering the more heavily frequented parts of the castle now. Ladies gathered in giggling groups seem to be around every corner, the short journey to the dining hall taking much longer than it should as we have to keep stopping to greet them. I can tell he's just as frustrated by the slow going as I am from his tight smile and polite tone his voice takes on as he greets them with his aloof, high magician mask. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel slightly smug that he lets that mask down around me, not that I'd ever let him know that.

Eventually, we reach the hall and I can hear the buzzing of many voices echoing from the large arched roof. Anxiety lines my stomach as we pause at the huge wooden doors. Glancing up at Grayson, I give him a questioning look, which he returns with a smile.

"I'm just giving you a chance to prepare yourself. Whenever we are around large groups of people you tend to get this startled rabbit expression and you glance around as if looking for somewhere to hide."

"Oh…" Frowning, I pull my gaze from his, looking down at the stone floor. This is not good. I'm supposed to be a lady. If people notice me acting that way, they are going to start trying to search for answers. My eyes lock onto my free arm which is crossing my body to rest on Grayson's forearm where it's linked with mine. The cuffs of the dress hide my slave marks, but I can almost feel them burning on my skin, making themselves known, a constant reminder.

"Don't worry, it's subtle. I only notice because I watch you—"

"You watch me?" My head snaps around to Grayson once more, and his eyes widen slightly as he realises what he's said.

"Well...Yes. I mean, you know—because the Great Mother tasked me with your protection."

A smile curls my upper lip as I watch him bumble through his words, so unlike the strong, sure high magician he usually is. Ignoring the small pang in my chest at the implication that the only reason he's with me now is because he was told to be, I simply force a chuckle.

"Don't worry, Grayson. I'm under no illusions that you harbour any desire for me."

"Why would you say that?" His voice is carefully neutral, a simple, light question, but I can feel his eyes on me waiting for my response.

"You're a high magician," I explain, surprised that he really needs me to spell it out for him. Looking around, I'm suddenly aware that there are other people milling about the doors and that anyone could hear us. Nodding towards an alcove, I lead him away from the entrance, lowering my voice once we reach it. "You would never want an ex-slave as a romantic partner."

"You have such a low opinion of yourself."

"No, I have a realistic opinion of myself. I was a slave, I must have done something, some crime—"

"You. Were. Eight," he spits, anger flashing in his eyes as he takes a step closer. My back is pressed up against the stone of the arched alcove, so I have nowhere to go as I watch him rage. "How could an eight-year-old do something so terrible that you were stripped of everything, even your name ?" His words stir something inside me, something I keep locked away, that familiar anger awaking and stoking the dangerous thoughts that infiltrate my mind. Growling with frustration, he reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder, and I gasp at the sudden contact. "Clarissa, don't you see how people look at you? You're beautiful. You may have come from a different background than the rest of us, but you are a lady now." I snort, shaking my head. I have nothing and it wouldn't take much digging from one of the other nobles to figure that out. Sensing my despair, Grayson sighs and his hand leaves my shoulder to cup my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his. "If you were to go to Lake Haven you would find an estate with your name on it, including staff who are running it while you're here at the castle." His voice is quiet, and he looks like he's afraid of my response.

"You bought me an estate?" I ask, staring dumbly at him, not quite registering what he said. An estate, all in my name. A place to call my own. "You bought me a home?" I've never had a place to call home, so the fact he would do this for me... My breath catches in my throat as I fight back the sobs that threaten to rack my body. Eyes welling, I see him watching me with part happiness, part concern. With a huge, shuddering breath, I throw myself forward and wrap my arms around him. He lets out a slight "oomph" then he stills for a moment before returning my embrace, his chin coming down to rest on my head.

I'm not sure how long we stay like that for, long enough that I can hear people whispering as they pass us and enter the hall. However, I simply don't care. Right now, heart aching in my chest as I'm enveloped in the arms of my saviour, I feel at peace. He would stay like this for as long as I need him, I know he would, it's the type of person he is, but the longer we stay out here, the more rumours and whispers will follow us.

"So, you fancy me then?" My voice is muffled as I talk into his chest, enjoying the deep laughter he emits as he takes a step back with a broad smile, which is just for me.

"Clarissa! Looking good, my lady." Wilson's enthusiastic voice fills the hall as he squeezes into the small gap between myself and Grayson, so he's almost pressed up against me. "Oh, hello, High Magician Grayson, I didn't see you there," he says as he looks over his shoulder, spotting the magician just behind him. "I was too busy looking at this beautiful woman. Stop hogging her, it's my turn."

I can't fight the giggle his comments bring as he wraps his arms around me. I thought being touched by so many people would upset me, after all, I've avoided physical contact for so long. But I instigated the hug with Grayson, and even though Wilson's spontaneous hug startles me, it doesn't make me feel uncomfortable. In fact, after a brief pause, I return his embrace. Over his shoulder, I can see Grayson watching us with an unreadable expression on his face.

Once Wilson pulls away there's an awkward pause and he glances suspiciously between the two of us.

"Did I interrupt something?"

"No," both Grayson and I blurt, making Wilson grin as he nods and raises one eyebrow.

"Oh yeah, sure. I believe you." He snorts, a sly grin letting me know that he doesn't believe us. Walking out of the alcove, he glances over his shoulder to see if we're following him. "Come on, or we'll miss the toast."

"Are you ready?" Grayson's deep voice pulls my attention back to him, and as I look up at him, his smile gentle and eyes knowing, I feel my own smile form. I know he's asking me about the banquet, but I can't help but feel he means more than that—if I'm ready to truly become Lady Clarissa of Lake Haven. Taking his offered hand, I straighten my back and nod, my smile still firmly in place.

"Yes, I am."