Nine Moons in, Reed began to settle into his new life. From the outside, the castle was a dull place, but one only had to peek behind the rich screens of the royal palace to see the diverse entanglements of intrigue and hidden animosity. Once this filth was revealed, Reed realized how lucky he was to be in the guard rather than in higher circles. Not much was required of the guardsmen, as the work was simple and familiar and therefore almost safe. At least it raised no questions. He could listen, observe, and draw conclusions without attracting attention. Yet Reed was not allowed into the part of the castle where Arden lived, as more experienced veterans were assigned there. But what he had was enough.

  During his brief service, Reed managed to draw several important conclusions. First, if no one knows you are a Belden elf, you have fewer problems. Second, the more often you keep your mouth shut, the more you are trusted. Third, to the inhabitants of the royal court, you are no more than furniture. This last fact pleased Reed much more than Maró’s successful legend. It was convenient. If you are not noticed, then nothing is expected, and the sharpest knives usually fly from the shadows. Of course, blatant crimes immediately resulted in major problems, but a status on par with furniture provided opportunities to maneuver and play while still remaining in the shadows.

  Reed thought about this as he returned to the castle after a night patrol in the city. The guardsmen did not shine with knightly virtues, but it was not for Reed to judge them for that. Many of their deeds remained a mystery, but one thing was perfectly clear: they had not been asked to enter that wealthy house on the main street for no reason. He did not hear the conversations, but he understood their essence well enough, since not long ago he had held similar talks himself as a mercenary.

  The patrol was merely an excuse that could not be refused. He did not listen to their chatter and obscene jokes, preoccupied with the most important problem in his current life: how to get close to the advisor. Reed waited for a convenient opportunity and calculated the possibilities, but he still could not choose the moment or the method. This tormented him far more than the guards' tall tales. He walked in silence, looking around detachedly, until one of his "comrades" burst into a particularly loud laugh.

  "Did you hear?" Adrian asked.

  "Yeah," another laughed, whose name Reed did not remember.

  "She apparently thought she would become the wife herself," muttered a young man who seemed to be named Ethan.

  "Who?" Reed suddenly asked, although he usually did not delve into the gossip details.

  "Rene," Ethan replied. "Have you only just arrived at the castle?"

  "I didn't pay attention."

  "Well, the Captain already told everyone that things are about to get heated. Advisor Merit's young wife is coming."

  "So, what does Rene have to do with it?" Reed grimaced in confusion, and the guards laughed in unison.

  "Because she wasn't the one who became the wife."

  Reed snorted. He had been acquainted with Rene since his first day at the castle. She was a strong, sturdy woman, always gloomy for some reason. Now the secret of her bad mood had finally surfaced.

  "And I wondered why she was always so sour," Reed joked. "Apparently, he promised her the moon."

  Ethan and Adrian chuckled nastily, throwing out obscene jokes about Rene. Not that Rene deserved them, but she would have been furious if she had heard. She was a royal healer, and with her temperament, it was not at all surprising. Quick-tempered, sometimes bold, and resentful, she managed to survive well at court. And Reed was not at all surprised that the arrival of the "wrong" wife for advisor Merit would bring the castle guards a bit more of a beating than usually.

  Rene did not seem vengeful, but when she lost her temper, she remembered grudges for a long time. And who knew how long and in what way she would remember a broken heart? But would advisor Merit add to the work of the guard because of one woman who was not particularly important in the castle?

  Reed could not shake the thoughts of Rene and her tragedy even when he found himself in the common barracks, which were located on the very lowest floor of the castle. The windows were small, almost at the ceiling. Reed lay and thought, his ideas wandering steadily through his mind, moving from Rene to advisor Salvat and then back again, almost as if they were trying to line up, but for some reason they constantly refused to do so at the last moment. The barracks were half empty. Some had gone on patrol while others played cards in the common room. Reed stood up, ran his palm through his hair, and gave it a slight tug as if that would help him think better.

  "Can't sleep?" Adrian interrupted Reed's thoughts as he entered.

  Reed only nodded in response. Adrian waved his hand, smiling.

  "Typical. I couldn't sleep properly here for a very long time, but then I just got used to it. It's always too noisy here."

  Adrian was one of the few who did not disgust Reed, despite his kreyghar origin. He was too ordinary, too simple, and therefore predictable. Although Reed liked predictable people, he treated Adrian with caution. Adrian was about thirty years old, but he looked a bit older, perhaps because he had hardened too early in the royal barracks. He wore a short haircut and a beard that hid a silly but friendly smile. Not to say he was the people person, but he didn't have enemies either, nor friends, for that matter. This peculiarity of Adrian's made Reed stay alert, for he himself was a similar sort of person. You never know what is hiding behind such predictability and simplicity.

  "Want to play?" Adrian suggested, showing a deck of cards in his hand.

  "What, is there no one else?"

  "They take the game too seriously."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Some really don't like it when people cheat."

  "Have you tried not cheating?" Reed asked.

  "What's the point of playing then?" Adrian laughed with delight as he sat down.

  He dealt eight cards each and stared at Reed with interest, who reluctantly took his own cards and prepared for a long, tedious story or pointless chatter. Adrian was capable of both. While he babbled, Reed thought of Meredith. He remembered her voice, her face, and her scent. His imagination tossed up more and more pictures that made Reed's face burn.

  "So, what about you?" Adrian suddenly asked, interrupting his stream of chatter.

  "What about me?" Reed replied calmly, discarding a card.

  "Have you been in service long?"

  "Almost all my life." Reed was not lying. His work was service as well, but each time there was a new master and no beautiful cloak provided.

  In the King's castle, the guards were divided into three groups: bronze, platinum, and gold cloaks. They differed essentially in the color of their cloaks and armor as well as in their levels of power and authority. The gold cloaks were considered the best and behaved as if they were second to none. Only a guardsman with a gold cloak had the right to see the King, guard him, and accompany him. Those like Reed, who wore bronze colors, deserved only city and internal patrols, lookout posts, and treatment only slightly better than that given to servants. A guardsman in a bronze cloak could be given an order by any resident of the castle who ranked higher than him, while platinum and gold cloaks took orders only from the Captain, the Chief Advisor, and the King himself.

  Reed played without thinking about winning or losing. They played for the sake of the game, and he did not even try. Adrian chatted tirelessly, and Reed began to understand why he had no close friends. He gave Reed a headache and rattled his nerves, not caring at all how attentive the listener was. Adrian simply needed a spare set of ears so as not to talk to himself. Reed only occasionally agreed, nodded intently, and gave a surprised "Really?" without registering the topic. And that was quite enough.

  When dawn approached, Reed sent Adrian away, but he was still unable to fall asleep. He did not want to think about the castle's affairs anymore, so he thought of Meredith. He wondered what she was doing now. Did she think of him as often as he thought of her? Was she waiting for a meeting, or had she promised just for the sake of promising? Reed would not blame Meredith if she did. Women did not necessarily have to do what they promised. It was enough for them to simply exist.

  ***

  Closer to noon, Reed regretted that he had not sent Adrian away before the sun rose. Sleepiness tugged at him mercilessly. The gloomy, dull corridor and weak candlelight did not help him stay awake. He wished that time would pass faster, but it crawled so slowly that Reed would surely have kicked it in the backside if time were a person.

  The part of the castle where he was lucky enough to suffer from a lack of sleep was not very popular with visitors, but Reed could not allow himself to fall asleep. If noticed, he would be punished and thrown out, and Reed was never one to fail a job. It was all about reputation. Evening slowly descended outside the window, and he was already looking forward to the end of his shift.

  When there was not much time left before the shift change, the corridor filled with the sounds of footsteps: heavy and shuffling, and surprisingly light and frequent. A man's voice carried the ring of steel and the habit of command, while a woman's voice weakly protested. While Reed did not recognize the man, the second voice belonged to Rene, the royal healer. And by all appearances, she did not like what she was hearing.

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  "...agreed to it yourself," was heard as they drew closer.

  "As if I had a choice."

  "There is always a choice," the voice replied with a hint of mockery. "You are helping the King. You should be grateful for his trust."

  "But..."

  "Silence! What’s with the tone? It is only by the mercy of His Majesty that you are still alive and sitting in the castle. You will do what you are told, and it is not for you to decide how necessary it is."

  Reed tensed, and his sleepiness quickly vanished. Trying to hear more, he stepped a little to the right, hiding around the corner. This could be important. When Reed dared to take another step, his steel armor betrayed him with a clink, and the footsteps fell silent.

  "Who is there?"

  Reed clicked his tongue in annoyance and pursed his lips. How stupid.

  "Patrol, my lord," he replied in a strained voice, stepping into the adjacent corridor.

  "Patrol?" The man grimaced. He was older, but not as old as the King. His gaze held the same steel as his voice. Reed would not have refused to knock a little of the arrogance out of this man.

  "Yes. By order of Captain Romund," Reed bowed slightly, as was expected of guardsmen of his rank when meeting someone higher in status.

  "Isn't it time to change shifts yet?"

  "Not yet, but soon."

  The man scratched his chin and glanced at Rene, who had been standing beside him all this time with a look as if she wanted to blend into the corridor's landscape just to avoid attention. She did not even look at Reed, as she did not consider it necessary.

  "Lucky," the kreyghar muttered, and then addressed Rene, "So I have solved your problem."

  "Pardon me?" Rene blinked in confusion.

  "Here is the deal," the man continued, ignoring her question. "You go with her. Do everything she says and do not open your mouth without a reason. Do not tell anyone what you did or where you were, understood?"

  "Understood, but I can’t," Reed answered. "By the Captain's order, until sunset I am..."

  The man raised an eyebrow so eloquently that Reed faltered. "You said you understood. Or did I mishear you?"

  "No, but..."

  "Go to your Captain and report that by order of the advisor, you are heading off on a delicate mission, and then go do what I said. And keep your mouth shut, do you understand?"

  "Yes," Reed hissed through his teeth, bowing again. His palm trembled slightly as he pressed it to the left side of his chest. He wanted to clench his hand into a fist and strike this kreyghar right in his old teeth so that they would scatter across the marble floor, spraying bloody patterns around. But he could not.

  "Rene is to go with you."

  "Fine."

  "I expect a report from both of you afterward."

  And he left without even looking at Rene or Reed. She looked desperate, frightened.

  "Let’s go," she snapped sharply, walking quickly down the corridor toward the wing where the Captain sat.

  "What am I supposed to do?"

  "Just come with me and be quiet. Or is that too difficult for you?"

  Reed gave a nasty smile. "Oh, I will go, but I can’t promise silence."

  Rene rolled her eyes, giving Reed a quick glance.

  "O-o-oh, you don’t like it when I speak?" he cooed. "How adorable. I will try to bring you even more pleasure."

  Reed kept his promise. Not because he liked to chatter, but simply out of spite. He saw the contempt with which Rene looked at him. She was not higher in status and had no power over him, so Reed could freely play on her nerves until he was bored. By the time they arrived at the barracks, Rene had already stopped paying attention to him, but even the mere hope that he had gotten under her skin warmed his soul.

  After a quick report, he returned and gave Rene a brazen smile.

  "Are you doing this on purpose?" she asked tiredly.

  "For the most part."

  She barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes and beckoned him with her hand.

  "You are with me for safety," she said as they entered the Southern Wing of the castle. No one lived in the Southern Wing. Long ago, a section of the building had collapsed, burying about fifty servants and guests, and the King ordered all residents to be evicted. The wing had been rebuilt but was never inhabited again.

  They began to descend toward the dungeons, and Reed got a weird foreboding.

  "I’m supposed to guard you against what?"

  Rene looked at him with a strange expression. "Anything."

  The damp walls of the basement rooms evoked unpleasant associations, and Reed wanted to be somewhere else as soon as possible. Rene’s voice echoed strangely off the stone walls, and the clank of armor sounded like claps of thunder. It was unsettling.

  She stopped near a narrow staircase that led down even deeper underground.

  Rene turned and said quietly, "There is no need to go down there with me. Stay here. If something happens, you will hear me. Just make sure no one comes in and, more importantly, no one leaves."

  "No one leaves?" Reed asked incredulously.

  "Exactly."

  Reed gave Rene a questioning look but decided not to ask any unnecessary questions. Sooner or later, he would find out exactly who was not supposed to leave. Meanwhile, Rene began descending the stairs, nervously adjusting the bag on her shoulder. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and hurried after her, catching up to her at the large, heavy doors.

  "Maybe I should go with you?" He grabbed Rene by the arm, forcing her to slow down.

  Rene grimaced in displeasure, looking him over. Her eyes were somewhat like Meredith’s, just as dark and deep, but they lacked whatever it was that made Meredith’s gaze so desirable. Rene was as prickly as a blooming garrey. She had features that made her attractive, but they all faded as soon as she opened her mouth. Rene wore her long hair in an intricate braid, a common hairstyle for the women of the castle. Her face had a cold, rosy hue that added a strange, intriguing sense of nobility to her. She often curled her lips, grumbled, and acted as if she were defending herself in advance, getting angry, being rude, and pushing people away. Reed did not like those who acted exactly as he did.

  "First of all, do not touch me," she snapped after a pause. Reed snorted. "And second, I can manage without you. You have no business in there. The last thing I need is to have to look after you, too."

  "Is that so? And your 'friend' said to go with you."

  "Then go complain. He also said to do everything I tell you, and I am telling you to stay here. Are you deaf or just stupid?"

  Reed stepped back with a brazen smile on his face. Rene apparently expected him to spit another dose of sarcasm or to snap back, giving her every reason to vent her anger, but he did not. And now he felt sincere pleasure watching a shadow of disappointment appear on her face. When she disappeared behind the door, Reed exhaled. He was no stranger to such treatment, and he could even ignore Rene’s outbursts, but he was glad to annoy her. There was a certain excitement in doing everything possible to make her dislike him even more. Mostly because he could be mean and striving for the opposite was repulsive.

  He sat on the steps, painfully counting the moments until the sweet opportunity to sleep. Drowsiness had almost washed over him when he leaned his shoulder against the wall, but suddenly an idea flashed in his mind.

  Trying not to make noise, Reed stood up, went to the door, and listened. There was rustling and talking, meaning Rene was not alone there. The murky activity behind the heavy door caused anxiety, and his curiosity awoke. Muffled cursing rang out, someone cried out, and then something fell. Reed tensed, but he could not make out the snatches of words or the essence of what was happening. And then a scream leaked through the heavy door. It was hard to understand who exactly was screaming, but Reed knew for sure that people screamed like that when they were in great pain. And then again. Each new cry held more pain than in the previous one. Then, the voice of the screamer broke, turning into a racking sob.

  Blood drained from Reed’s face, and he staggered. He was not impressionable, and violence did not frighten him. Only one thing frightened him: the secrets hiding behind that door were far more serious than any he could have imagined. Otherwise, who would think of simply hurting people in a basement? If Reed had not been a spy among the guards, he would have thought that prisoners were being held in custody. This thought was tempting but did not ring true.

  First, why create a temporary prison if there was the official one? Second, what fool would place a prison within the walls of the castle when King was so obsessed with his own security? Even assuming particularly important prisoners were kept there, it would not ease the dilemma: wasn't it foolish to place particularly important or dangerous prisoners in the castle, behind such a weak door, in a dungeon with no regular patrol? The guards patrolled the Southern Wing but did not descend to the underground floors. If there were prisoners there, the Captain would surely have sent men to keep things safe. This meant there were neither criminals nor prisoners inside. Then who?

  The door flew open suddenly, and Reed almost fell. Rene gave him a dissatisfied look, her eyes flashing.

  "What were you doing?"

  "I don't owe you a report." He dismissed her.

  "If you say even a word to anyone that you were here and what you might have heard..."

  "Listen, darling, you’re in no position to make threats. Where was your courage when I was assigned to you? Why did you stay silent then? Your mouth stayed shut so obediently I could hardly look away. And now you've found your voice?" Reed took a step toward her, forcing her to retreat. Rene’s back hit the wall, and she froze, pinned between the stone and Reed’s chest. "I’ll crush you right here and say it was an accident. Who knows who could have done it, right? For example, one of those who were screaming behind that door. Pain gives strength, and I simply didn't have time to help you because you left me waiting outside."

  Reed struck with words at random and did not expect his blows to hit the mark so precisely.

  "Do you think we are playing games here?" she hissed. A flicker of fear crossed her eyes. Rene was not just scared. She was terrified. Her lips trembled nervously, and tears welled in her eyes.

  "We are doing exactly that, playing games." Reed enjoyed her fear and how quickly her arrogance had vanished. "You will not pretend I am your slave. Otherwise, who knows... maybe you will slip on the stairs accidentally. It’s so dark here, I don't know..."

  "You wouldn’t," she replied weakly. "You wouldn’t dare."

  "Really?"

  Rene nodded, while Reed narrowed his eyes threateningly and lowered his voice.

  "I am exactly the type who would. Look, all circumstances are in my favor. And even you don't fully believe that I won't."

  "Listen, you shouldn't get involved in this business." Rene’s gaze darted to the door. "You don't want to know what is in there."

  Reed arched an eyebrow in question. Rene bit her lip. Apparently, she realized she had said too much. How intriguing. While he hesitated for a moment, Rene slipped past him and was soon running up the stairs, leaving him alone.

  Getting out of the dungeons was quite an adventure. Despite the simplicity of the construction, the dungeon was confusing with its abundance of corridors and turns. Reed stepped into the first-floor corridor when it was already dark outside. He had planned to rest, but now he would have to find that kreyghar who had assigned him to Rene. Reed sighed dejectedly.

  "And what are you doing here so late?" A voice made Reed spin around abruptly. Standing behind him with a lantern in his hands was no ordinary person, but His Highness the Prince himself.

  "I was carrying out an assignment," Reed answered quickly, bowing. According to the rules, he could only return to his normal position after the royal's permission.

  "Whose?"

  "I..." Reed faltered, his hand trembling and the metal of his armor clinking unpleasantly. "I was ordered to help Rene below."

  "So, Salvat sent you? You may stand." The Prince waved his hand.

  "He didn't introduce himself," Reed replied, standing straight.

  "Only Salvat issues orders for Rene in this part of the castle," the Prince replied coldly.

  Reed wanted to ask what the Prince was doing in this part of the castle so late, but he bit his tongue just in time. Guardsmen were not supposed to know what members of the royal family did at night.

  "Then it was him. I was ordered to come with a report afterward, but I..."

  "You've never been to his place?" The Prince smiled strangely, as if he knew something Reed did not. His manner of communication was strange in general, as was everything about him. An even greater strangeness emanated from his gaze: he looked at Reed as if he already knew him.

  "That is correct, Your Highness."

  "Go to the Hall of Repose. There is a spiral staircase to the right of the door. On the third floor, you will find a captain in a platinum cloak. Tell him who you are there for and why, and you will be shown in."

  "Th-thank you, Your Highness."

  The Prince smiled again. In the weak light of the lantern, that smile looked ominous. Reed hurried to get out of the Southern Wing as quickly as possible. Prince Arne's behavior was alarming. The entire evening was filled with oddities. Salvat was strange, as was Rene's behavior. The events behind the dungeon door and the Prince's night walks bordered on madness. A mere couple of hours had presented a whole pile of riddles that Reed was unable to solve.