![]() I turn back to the barrel and bury my hands in the water. I look back at the blood staining my hands, and a familiar tightness wraps around my rib cage. My people will be at risk again soon enough. I wonder if my unchanged appearance startles him, too. That gleam has long since gone dark, the only aspect of his appearance that is never remade by the curse. He once carried a gleam of eagerness in his eye, a spark for adventure. His uniform still fits him well, every buckle and strap perfectly arranged, every weapon shining in the near darkness. He looks as young as the day he earned a position in the elite Royal Guard, his dark hair slightly unkempt, his face unlined. The animal is blowing hard, its chest and flanks damp with sweat despite the early-morning chill.įor as long as we’ve been trapped here, Grey’s appearance is somehow a continual surprise. Grey stands a few yards back, holding the reins of Ironheart, the fastest horse in the stables. I swipe the water from my hands and turn. As if Grey has men left to command.Īs if he didn’t earn the title by default. My guard commander always follows at a safe distance until the transition is complete. ![]() ![]() Hooves ring against the cobblestones somewhere behind me, followed by the jingle of a horse’s bridle. I shouldn’t bother, because it will all be gone in an hour anyway, but I hate this. The ice-cold water bites at my skin, but the blood clings. ![]() I thrust my hands into the barrel beside the stables. I wonder how many of my people I’ve killed this time. ![]()
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