Bloodmark

24: Little Mouse

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Already finished returning Elara to her stall, I watch the King tend to his steed. I learned that his typical companion is actually the Clydesdale, but he had chosen a smaller horse for the sake of my comfort. His kindness never fails to astound me.

            It surprises me that I do not shy away from the Siervs assigned to the stables. Belef's words from the ball had struck a chord: whether or not I'm seen, I remain both a Bloodmark and the King's Mark. While my appearance had not been exactly "public" at the ball, I have taken the first step. And as each day passes, my confidence grows, little by little.

            "Shall we go for a stroll?" asks King Atlas.

            Together, we meander the path that encircles the castle in a wide loop. My gaze fastens on his hand, which he tucks into his pocket. My intestines leaden with the sting of disappointment—I had hoped he'd take my hand.

            Since dancing at the ball, a rather fierce desire to close any distance between us has taken over me. To feel the singing of my blood, the tingle of my skin, sets my heart aflame. Try as I might to ignore it, in moments like these, resistance seems impossible. Especially when the light of the moon reflects off the necklace charm dangling at his chest, or a shadow catches his eyes, changing the color of his irises.

            But with his hands in his pockets, all I can do is occupy my own with the lace cuffs of my riding shirt and walk silently beside him.

            Over the hill, in a foggy valley, sits the cemetery. Every Sierv has been buried there with love and tenderness. I doubt I can say the same for the graveyards in Lred. And oddly enough, the grave markers—the crosses and slabs and signs—puncturing the moon-illuminated fog strikes me as beautiful. The sloping hillside in the distance creates a jagged split in the horizon. The moon dangles miles above the far-off mountains.

            My feet pause before the vista. "It's so beautiful here."

            "Yes, it is." A beat of comfortable silence. "Mara, do you miss your hometown?"

            The gray of Lred greets my eyelids. With its ashen plumes rising to the perpetually dark sky, compared to the magnificence of the Royal Court, Lred is, well, dreadful.

            A quiet sigh slips through my mouth. "It is a part of who I am. It always will be. In that sense, I do miss it. I miss its familiarity. But . . . Lred has little to offer."

            "You come across as quite educated," notes King Atlas. "It must have a fair education system."

            My mind replays the hours upon hours I'd spend reading: from dusty books to trashed newspaper clippings. Alone in our cramped apartment, aside from my hideous reflection, reading was my truest companion.