After leaving her rooms, he nodded at the waiting guards. It was an almost imperceptible tilt of his chin, but it seemed to hold the power of a barked command.
The guards dipped their heads in unison and stepped back so the pair could pass. Then they followed the two from behind, mindful to keep a respectable distance.
Evangeline and Apollo walked the first few castle halls in silence, flanked by the warm light of all the sconces on the ancient walls. She still had so many questions for Apollo, but now all she felt were nerves buzzing inside her.
Perhaps it was the cadre of guards in their shining bronze armor that stopped her from speaking. They were about a half a hall behind, but Evangeline could hear the fall of their boots against the stone floor, so she imagined that were she to speak, they would hear her as well.
Apollo took her hand.
Evangeline felt a shock.
“So that you’ll stop thinking about the guards and you’ll think of this instead.” Apollo gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.
Evangeline had never held hands with a young man before, at least not that she could remember. Yesterday Apollo had taken her hand, but it had been more to tug her through the castle.
This was . . . nice. The soft pressure of Apollo’s fingers, the way her hand felt small and sheltered inside of his. Of course, it didn’t help the problem of being too nervous to speak. If anything, she felt more anxious than before. This was all so new that she wasn’t quite sure what to do. Apollo wasn’t a mere boy who worked in a stable or in his father’s bakery. He was the ruler of a kingdom. He had the power to hold lives in the palm of his hand. But right now, he was only holding her hand.
She was about to finally ask him once again how the two of them had originally met when she saw the poster nailed to one of the castle’s rounded doors.
Evangeline’s blood went cold.
Underneath the list of Lord Jacks’s crimes was a portrait—if it could be called that. The image was more shadow than man, a face with two dark holes for eyes and a slash of a mouth.
Apollo tugged her closer to his side. “Don’t pay those posters any attention.”
“Is that really how Lord Jacks looks?” Evangeline knew Apollo had called him a monster, but she hadn’t expected this.
“It’s a rough sketch. He looks more human than that, but barely.” Something like hate poured off Apollo as he said the words.
It was the type of emotion that made Evangeline want to curl away from him. She imagined Apollo had every reason to feel spiteful, but for a second, she felt the urge to run. Although perhaps that was because of the poster of Jacks?
Evangeline’s thoughts kept going back to the shadowy image until she briefly lost track of where they were and where they were going. Suddenly she found herself climbing a narrow spiral of stone stairs.
There was no rail on one side—just a terrifying drop to the bottom of the tower. If Evangeline had been in full possession of her senses, she’d never have started climbing.
She craned her neck, but there were so many steps ahead that she couldn’t see the top, and they were too narrow for her and Apollo to walk side by side.
“Where do these stairs lead?” she asked uncertainly.
“I think it’s better if it’s a surprise,” Apollo said. He was right behind her. She could hear his footsteps. But her steps and his were the only ones. The guards must have remained at the bottom of the stairs, and Evangeline soon found herself envying them.
“Can I just have a hint of where we’re going?” she asked. “Is there a tower up here you’re planning to lock me in?”
The sound of Apollo’s footsteps halted.
She immediately knew she had said the wrong thing.
“You’re not a prisoner, Evangeline. I would never lock you up.”
“I—I know. I was only jesting.” And Evangeline wanted to believe that she was. She didn’t really think Apollo would lock her up in a tower like a cruel fairytale king. Yet her heart had started beating differently. Danger. Danger. Danger, it seemed to say—but it was too late to turn around.
They were nearly at the top. A few steps ahead, she could finally see another door, a simple rectangle without any adornment.
“It should be unlocked,” Apollo said.
Nervously, Evangeline opened the latch and was promptly greeted by a dark night and whistle of cold wind that whipped her hair across her face.
Please don’t abandon me up here, she thought.
“Don’t worry, I’m here,” Apollo said tenderly.
Evangeline didn’t know if he’d sensed her fear, or if she’d actually said the words out loud. But he immediately came behind her, blocking some wind and providing a solid wall of warmth for her back.
As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw that the night wasn’t quite so black as she had thought before—there was light from the windows of the castle below illuminating a short crenellated wall that surrounded the top of the tower. Beyond the castle, the world was dark, save for sprays of stars forming unfamiliar constellations.
“Is this what you wanted me to see?” she asked.
“No,” Apollo said softly. “It should just be a couple more seconds.”
A moment later, the bells of a tower clock rang out.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
With every chime of the bell, pops of light burst to life in the distance. There were just a few at first—far-off embers of glow appearing here and there like bits of fallen stars. But soon there was more light than dark. A world of bright, as if the sky and the ground had switched places and now the Earth was covered in shimmering stars.
“What is all this?” Evangeline asked.
“It’s a gift for us. It’s called a Firenight. It’s an old Northern blessing,” Apollo said, voice softer than before as he moved closer, pressing his warm chest more firmly to her back. “Usually this happens before a king goes to war. Bonfires are lit across the land and people burn words of blessing. Wishes for health and for strength and for stealth and for safe returns home. When I found out there would be a Firenight tonight in honor of us, I thought you’d want to see. Every bonfire down there is for us. Subjects from all over the Magnificent North are burning words of blessing for our health and our marriage as we speak.”
“It’s a like a fairytale,” Evangeline murmured. But even as the words came out, they didn’t feel true.
It wasn’t like a fairytale. It was a fairytale. It was her fairytale.
Would it really change things if she remembered exactly how she’d gotten here, how she’d met Apollo, how they’d fallen in love and married? Or would she just feel differently? Perhaps even if she had all her memories, Apollo would still make her nervous.
As the wind whipped around her and fires burst to life below, Evangeline slowly turned around and looked up at the prince. Her prince.
“You’re looking in the wrong direction.” He grinned, slow and cocky.
Her heart pounded faster and faster. Danger, danger, danger, it seemed to say again. But Evangeline was no longer sure she could trust it—or maybe she just liked the danger.
“Perhaps I prefer this view.” She brought her hand to Apollo’s jaw. It was a little rough against her palm as she tilted his face.