Court of the Night King (Night Court Book 1) by Natalie Barry & Alexis Pierce

Author:Natalie Barry & Alexis Pierce [Barry, Natalie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-01-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Roan

After Siobhan storms out of practice, I make my way to my office. I still have to take care of my duties every day, but it’s nice to not be involved in the arduous meetings. I half hope that Siobhan will decide that we should stay here until the ceremony in March. It’s been too long since I’ve had the chance to get away from my advisors and generals and everyone else. I didn’t realize I needed a break until we got here.

A stack of paper is waiting on my oak desk, and I get right to work. At least I don’t have to speak with anyone. My mind still burns at the image of Siobhan attacking me, her gaze going soft every time I touched her. It was just a flicker, but it was enough. I have some sort of effect on her. It might be subtle, but it’s there. I’m getting to her.

I go through the letters and papers into the evening, and a servant comes to turn out my fireplace and candles when early morning light rises on the grounds. I ignore her, writing a letter to Julas about how to proceed with the war.

I don’t voice this aloud, but the truth is, I fear the Winter Court. It would be so easy for them to tear us apart if they breach our borders, and it seems that they very well could.

I rest my face in my hands, propping my elbows on the desk. I watch the ink dry, going from shining to dull on the paper.

The door opens again, and I expect it to be another servant. I’m not sure what they could want, but when I look up to tell them to go away, Siobhan is standing in the doorway. Instead of wearing her usual all-black uniform, she’s dressed in a baby-blue, empire-waist gown. Her arms are covered with white silk gloves, and a matching, pearl-white ribbon wraps around the waist of the dress. Her hair is pinned up, small curls framing her face. She looks absolutely radiant.

I drop my hands to the table, sitting up a bit straighter.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier,” she says after a moment of silence. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry at practice. I know you’re trying to help me.”

I honestly haven’t given Siobhan’s anger a second thought. Now, though, I think back on practice. She’d grown more and more frustrated, and I decided to end it before she hurt herself. Her response had been to storm away, so I decided that it was time for me to work.

“I accept your apology,” I say, although the words feel awkward coming out of my mouth. People rarely apologize in the Night Court. “However,” I stipulate, “you don’t need to apologize to me.”

She nods, her normally straight hair bobbing with the curls. I look back to my letter, but her presence is too distracting.

“Is there anything else you needed?” I ask, refusing to look at her. I have work I should be doing, but unfamiliar emotions well up inside me.

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