Drake clears his throat next to me. “We should go…while she’s preoccupied.”
He pauses, perhaps debating whether he’ll offer his arm. After several seconds of indecision, he lowers his head and begins walking to an unimposing door off the side of the room—the same which the serving staff used throughout the meal.
I follow him, feeling small.
If it was Queen Marison’s goal to put me in my place, she certainly accomplished her task. I’ve never felt so insignificant in my life.
“I’ll take you to Brahm’s rooms,” Drake says as soon as we’re in the empty hall, still not looking at me.
I follow without speaking, sensing I unnerve him.
The halls feel longer and darker without Brahm.
I know little about his brother, except he tried to save my sister when he was just a child, and he paid dearly for it. He also seems bizarrely fond of roses.
We pass the colonnade, and I follow him up the winding stairway, growing more uneasy with every step.
A shadow cloaks Drake. It’s not visible, but it’s there all the same. Whether it's sadness or something more sinister, I don’t know.
Perhaps I was a fool to go with him, but what choice did I have? My only alternative was to wander the castle and hope something worse didn’t find me.
Besides, Brahm said the illanté tether will protect me. It seems as good a time as any to see if he’s right.
When we arrive at the last scarlet door, Drake pauses as he reaches for the handle. Slowly, he lets his hand drop, and then he turns to me.
As if it’s painful, he forces his gaze to mine. I stand very still, my heart beating too quickly.
“I’ve only overheard bits and pieces of the story,” he says roughly. “You’re Alice?”
Slowly, I nod.
“And she…my Alice…was your sister?”
“Yes.”
He closes his eyes when I answer, making me think it’s difficult for him to carry on a conversation. “What was her name?”
“Eleanor,” I whisper.
He swallows hard, taking a moment. “And apparently you can talk to me.”
Confused, I say, “It appears that way…”
“Of course you can—you’re human,” he says darkly, rubbing his hand over his face.
Suddenly, he laughs. It’s an agonized sound, seeming to come from the darkest, rawest parts of his very being.
He leans against the door and rests his head on the wood. “I haven’t had a conversation with a person since I was ten.”
His words confuse me until I remember what Brahm said when we entered the dining hall.
“Brahm told me he couldn’t introduce us,” I say carefully. “I assumed it was merely a way of saying he wouldn’t have a chance…”
“He meant he couldn’t. Years ago, after Eleanor, Mother decreed that no one was allowed to speak to me. The command was sealed with magic, impossible to fight.” He huffs out a scoffing breath. “At least if you’re Fae.”
Ten years—that’s how long he’s lived as an apparition in his own home.
“Why didn’t you leave?” I ask, aghast. “You could have gone somewhere your mother doesn’t have jurisdiction.”