I draw in a deep, relieved breath. “It’s working.”
“For now,” Misha says, and I scowl. “You’ll need practice if you want any sort of stamina. Be patient with yourself.”
I shrug. “I have nothing but time.”
Misha treats me to a full smile. “Good work, Princess,” he says. “Don’t expect this to ever completely negate your connection. Your shield will get better over time as you become stronger, but it will always be difficult to block the bond during highly emotional, intense, or painful situations.”
I nod. “I understand.” I take a breath. “And will the same technique work for blocking you out?”
He chuckles. “It will. But again, it takes practice. Be patient with yourself, and remember that even when you have me blocked, you can choose to use my creepy talent to communicate with me if you wish.”
“Even if I have you blocked? How?”
He studies the ceiling thoughtfully. “Think of it this way—you and I have connected, and I’ve chosen to keep a bit of my mental energy locked on you. Since I’ve done so, you can tap into it. Try visualizing a thin tunnel of energy between us that will allow me to speak in your mind.”
I focus, visualizing it. Like this? I ask.
He smiles. Exactly like this. Well done. Now shut me off.
I throw up a wall of night in my mind and focus hard.
That’s enough to keep your thoughts from flying at me when I’m minding my own business, but not enough to keep me out.
I growl, and his lips twitch. “Keep working on it,” he says. “It’s a muscle, like anything else.”
“I don’t want just anyone in my mind without my consent.”
“Then practice. Every day. Train your mind as you’d train your body, and you will improve.”
I feel guilty for asking, but . . . “When I get stronger, will this work for when I’m in the settlement as well? When I’m feeling the children’s emotions?”
Misha turns up his palms. “That, I can’t say. I’m not familiar with a gift that allows the bearer to tap into the emotions of an entire court.”
I chew on my bottom lip. When he puts it that way, it sounds too big. Too important. Again I find myself questioning what kind of king Oberon must’ve been. He loved my mother, yes, and at first glance, saving me from certain death sounds like a good and kind choice. But handing his crown and power over to me was reckless and irresponsible. He warned my mother that there would be a cost, but I wonder if either of them knew the cost would be far greater than just his life, that his act of love would threaten his entire kingdom.
It’s hard to judge him for his choices when they’re the reason I still breathe, and yet . . .
Misha takes my hand and lifts it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss there, just as he did when he brought me to my room last night. “Whether you know it or not, you are a gift to that court. Stop thinking of yourself as a curse.”
Over the next two weeks I fall into an easy routine in the Wild Fae territory. In the mornings I help in the schoolhouse at the Unseelie settlement, sometimes lending a hand at the infirmary before I ride back up the mountain. In the evenings I have dinner with Misha and Amira—sometimes both, sometimes one or the other. The time in between, I spend exploring the castle grounds, riding Two Star, or holed up in the library, reading. Unable to contend with the emotions that flood into me when I don’t shield against Sebastian, I work diligently to block him and try to ignore the loneliness that haunts me when I’m successful.
Misha says I’m improving faster than he expected, and I can even block him out much of the time now.
I sleep more than I ever have in my life—twelve or more hours at night and often a nap in the afternoon. Misha says it’s because I’m still recovering from the metamorphosis, and it will get better with time. But I don’t mind the sleep. Unconsciousness is a refuge from my thoughts. Sometimes Lark visits my dreams. She looks at me with those shining silver eyes and tells me to hurry home. At least I think it’s her. Maybe it’s just my subconscious showing me something that feels comforting. And when Sebastian or Finn appear in my dreams, I shove them right back out.
The library has become my favorite place in Castle Craige. The room is circular, with twenty-foot-tall walls lined with books and a glass ceiling that floods the space with natural light. In the center of the circle of shelves are various work and lounging areas. Tables with plenty of room to work, sofas with ottomans, chairs arranged in cozy groupings facing each other. I like to sit in here at night best of all—there’s something peaceful about lounging with an open book on my chest as I gaze up at the stars—but this morning I’m enjoying the warmth of the sunlight pouring in.