Noelis left Elarion's tent in a daze, the canvas falling shut behind her. Her lips still tingled.
His question still echoed through her mind.
When you were up there… did you think of me?
She had been too stunned to speak at first. And when words finally came, she kept them short and rational.
"I didn't have time to think about anything but the Shield and survival."
A reasonable answer though not what he wanted to hear, and not the whole truth either.
She had thought of her cousin Lysander, someone who she hadn't seen for years but had left a mark on the woman she had become — stronger and capable of surviving the world she lived through. He was the only person who had ever shown her the warmth of family. She had thought of Rowena and Faelynn, wondering if she would ever see them again. And the Voice, whose guidance had kept her on the right path down the mountain.
She had not thought once about Elarion.
Before she left his tent, he had kissed her — warm and tender, not the hungry, possessive touch he had given her in the past. But when he tried to deepen it, she had stepped back. He tried once more, slower, searching for permission she did not give.
With a quiet sigh, he had said, "I'm not going to force my way with you, but think about what I've said."
Think about what? She still wasn't entirely sure — and wasn't about to ask.
If he wanted to take her to his bed, he didn't need her agreement. She was his Tribute, bound by Conclavian laws. Whatever rights she had began and ended where his will decided. Yet he was asking for more.
Was he asking her to be his official mistress — to be acknowledged and watched by all of Ardenne and beyond? Her family had done their best to keep her out of the public eye and the outcome could be a cathartic and very public show of the middle finger to the Valemorde bloodline.
But any offspring she produced would be endangered and, at best, live a miserable life under the watchful eye of Bellatrice. She had been through it and didn't wish it upon anyone.
No. Absolutely not. That answer was very clear in her mind.
Most importantly, she did not want Elarion. She had yielded to him during their shared Heat, yes — but yielding was not wanting to be his. She was no damsel dreaming of a prince to steal her heart away. Life had cured her of such fantasies long ago. She would have to find a way to deal with Elarion.
She adeptly turned the conversation back to matters of the Shield — an appropriate diversion to a topic that had brought Elarion to the camp in the first place. When she finished talking, she left before he could steer the topic back.
When Noelis finally reached the Tributes' tent, all of them were there, waiting to hear from her — Rowena, Faelynn and Inaya as well as Prisilla and Krissie, the two Tributes from the previous batch. Inaya hadn't come up to the camp with Noelis and their batch of Tributes. For some reason she had stayed behind in Ardenne, so Noelis wondered when and why she had arrived — things must be bad, or she'd come with Elarion as Bellatrice's spy.
The moment she stepped inside, Rowena and Faelynn rushed to Noelis and dragged her onto the bed that would be hers for the night. The questions began immediately.
"What did he want to discuss for so long? He certainly took his time," Faelynn said with disdain.
"How are you feeling?" Rowena asked softly.
Noelis didn't want to speak of the kiss. So instead, she focused on what truly mattered.
"Alarie and Emon," she said firmly. "I need to find them. Elarion wants to send his men tomorrow without me, but they'll just get lost."
The girls' faces fell. Rowena reached for her hand.
Faelynn squeezed her shoulder gently. "Don't worry about that. I'll go with them, you're not the only one who can wield your Manna," she said a wave of mist surrounded Noelis.
Noelis's eyes widened as she felt her own Manna swerving around her yet controlled by Faelynn. Before she could inquire a voice spoke from the far inside of the tent.
"What about the Shield? They say you fixed it, but will it sustain?"
Faelynn's eyes narrowed on Inaya.
"How do you know so much? You only just arrived. And why did you come with Calen instead of Elarion?"
Inaya ignored the daggers in Faelynn's tone.
"Does it matter? I'm a Tribute just like you, with the shared purpose of keeping the Shield intact."
She was right. They were all here because of the Shield.
"The same evening we reached it, the Shield cracked, and we saw the Dark Creatures that managed to squeeze through. Hideous-looking — just as Prisilla had described. Terrifying, for sure, but thinking back, I don't believe it wanted to harm us."
"That's exactly how I felt when I faced a Dark Creature but those stupid soldiers wouldn't listen and just attacked and caged the beasts aggravating them!" Prisilla chimed in.
"I managed to control my Manna and fix the crack, butthe hum of the Shield under my skin didn't feel right. I think the fix is only temporary. Something is still brewing inside. Perhaps my Manna wasn't enough — we need to go back up and check."
Her exhaustion finally caught up with her and Noelis couldn't help letting out a yawn. Rowena pulled her into the bed and Faelynn blew out the lantern. In a matter of minutes, Noelis found herself lying in the comfort of her bed — still a camp bed in a tent, but a luxury compared to sleeping against tree roots.
She must have fallen asleep but only for a few hours because when she woke again, the tent was silent, the others still asleep.
Her thoughts churned, tangled and sharp. What she and Fabien had endured in the mountain. The Shield. Alarie and Emon.
After an hour of useless tossing and turning beneath her blankets, she pushed herself upright.
She wanted fresh air to clear her head.
Noelis slipped quietly from her bed, careful not to disturb the others, and stepped into the crisp night. The camp glowed faintly with embers from dying fires, the silhouettes of guards scattered throughout. The crescent moon hung low, casting a pale glow over the tents.
She wasn't afraid. The camp was well guarded, and she had her Manna — still strange and new beneath her skin yet empowering.
Her feet carried her almost unconsciously towards the mountain's shadow. The trees there were dense and dark, the path she had stumbled out of earlier now half swallowed by night. She approached, drawn by something she couldn't quite name.
But before she could take more than a step into the treeline, a guard's voice cut through the quiet.
"Stop there. My lady. No one is to be out here without our King's consent."
A pair of soldiers stepped into her path, bows and arrows on their backs, spears in hand.
Noelis frowned. "But the King is far away in Ardenne. How is he meant to give permission when matters must be handled here?"
From behind the guards, a man leaned lazily against a tree.
"You've not heard, my lady. The crown has been conceded to the new King of Ardenne — King Elarion is the King now."