The Night's Child | The Night Court Chronicles

Chapter ★ Eight

Iradessa remained at the bow of the ship, watching it as they returned to the docks. Her eyes remained on the coastline, as if she was waiting for someone, and Emrys had to wonder if it was Tarquin she was hoping for.

Emrys remained at the far end of the boat for the entirety of the ride back to dry land. And in that solitude, he was forced to think of his time under that damn mountain. He shouldn't have said anything.

As soon as the boat stopped, Ira returned to find her brother. "I need to return to the palace but you're welcome to take your time coming back... if you'd like. Let me know if you need anything, otherwise I'll see you in the morning?"

In truth, he was more than happy to escort Iradessa back to the palace. And find himself a nice tall bottle of whisky. "I'll just head back with you, if you don't mind. It's been a long day," Emrys said, choosing his words with moderate consideration.

Ira nodded and led her brother from the boat to the docks to the castle. Emrys followed Iradessa as she wove through the streets with the ease and familiarity, and he wasn't sure he would have been able to find his way back to the palace on his own without asking for directions. The evening was growing chill for the summer, so she kept their pace quick as they walked in silence.

The foyer of the palace was lit for the night, and they were greeted by a lesser faerie holding a letter. Ira went to take it from him, but he shook his head, and instead offered it to Emrys, with a bow.

Emrys was not expecting a letter. He hadn't even expected anyone aside from his mother to really even know or care that he was with Ira in the Summer Court. A crease formed between his brows but he took the note, nodding in response before the faerie turned on his heel and left.

Carefully, he opened the letter, unfolding it slowly, and he read it.

He blinked, he swallowed.

He stared at the paper with the briefest of notes scrawled across it. It was from their older sister - it was a summons from Rhiannon.

They so rarely heard from her that he knew a summons meant nothing good.

He clenched his jaw, a thrill of panic running through him. They knew.

She knew.

She knew what he had done.

Feeling the color fading from his face, Emrys did not bother formally excusing himself before he took off at his he briskest of walks, headed for the guest room. He swore he heard Ira calling behind him, but it dulled to the roaring in his ears.

No, no, no.

This was not happening.

It could not be happening.

He covered up the evidence well enough, hadn't he?

He had. He knew he had... he thought he had.

Maybe he hadn't.

Once in the confines of the guest room, Emrys allowed the panic to truly set in.

Shit... shit!

He was fucked.

He was fucked the moment he plunged that ash dagger into Osiris's heart.

He had done this. He'd dug his own grave.

There were only two options now- go back, or flee.

Emrys wasn't sure which he intended on doing as he hastily threw all his things back into the singular bag he'd brought before going for the liquor cabinet in his room, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation.