Aureate Fates

32

A SEA WIND GUIDES ME CLOSER

—DREW—

The echo of voices bounced off the stone in the fire-lit halls. Laughter, then soft tones. With careful attention, Drew realized it was Erik. The laughter belonged to Marisol.

Erik was a deliberate man, one with tedious intention. That meant that his time spent with Marisol was a product of his own will. Never had he thought he'd see the day where Erik Orvar would prefer to be in the company of a girl from Blue Quarter. One with a mouth he couldn't control.

Perhaps Galvinus had his ways, after all.

The night was quiet, and Drew tried his best not to look too closely at statues within the corridors. They tended to move, slightly enough that the movement could have only been imagined.  Soon enough, the night air whipped at his hair as he made it outside.

He could hear the scurrying of critters in bushes and the long, varying hoots of birds high up in the trees. A cobbled path led him to the entrance of the stables, where the rich smell of hay infiltrated his nose.

He often visited the horses, brushed their manes and divulged his grievances to them. The horses would turn their heads to him, eyes narrowing, as if he was made of nothing but utter nonsense.

There weren't any horses in Ziralem.

Drew heard a shuffling, then when he stepped foot inside, he couldn't stifle the little gasp that released from his mouth. He wasn't expecting anyone to be here, at this hour.

Reese mounted a horse in the first stable, adjusting the reins. Without looking at him, he announced, "Hello, Drew."

Reese was wearing something Drew had seen him wear in Ziralem: black jacket, dark brown pants. Suddenly, he wasn't the decorated High Warlock, a world of power in his pocket—he was only the mischievous boy that caught Drew's eye back home.

"Where are you off to?" Drew asked, keeping his voice quiet. Guards often checked on this part of the palace, to make sure there weren't any squatters.

Reese cut his attention to him and spent time observing his form with dark eyes. After some kind of decision Reese seemed to make internally, he turned away. "Done with your temper tantrum?"

Drew opened his mouth, brows drawn in. "It was completely justified. You robbed me of a choice to make something right."

Reese hung his head, laughing. "I didn't rob you of anything, Drew. Not anything meaningful, anyway." He was looking at him like he was something both comical and unbelievable.

Perhaps Reese was right. Drew had met many of Gilberts' kind, all Reds. They thought the world owed them everything from admiration to loyalty. Even so, something bothered Drew about how Reese had carelessly—

"All right, lovely," Reese yielded, like he had lost some type of battle. His voice was softer, now. "Don't look so wounded, now." Drew looked up at him on the horse, questionably.

Reese tightened his grip on the leather reins and clenched his jaw before saying, "I'm—sorry. For hurting your fragile little feelings."

Is that what he thought of me?

As if seeing the disappointment written on Drew's face, Reese mended, throwing his hands up, "It was wrong of me to put that spell on you. But if you're going to be mad at me, at least have the courtesy to tell me."

Drew already felt better, relieved. He smiled then, breathing. "You're forgiven, on one condition."

Reese rose a brow, encouraging him to continue.