What Lies Beyond the Veil (Of Flesh & Bone, #1)(13)
“He does nothing without a purpose. I’m on my way to find out what it is,” I admitted, hanging my head and touching my forehead to his chest briefly. “He requested my presence in his library, so I’ll know more soon. But no matter what he has to say, we can’t meet anymore. It’s too dangerous for you.”
“He didn’t seem to object to it, if he allowed it to go on for this long. He could’ve had me hanged months ago for ruining you in the eyes of The Mother,” Loris said, scoffing as he took a step back. Even if his words were an argument that Lord Byron seemed willing to allow another man to touch me, Loris had already put the necessary distance between us, recognizing the danger in continuing to have a relationship with me when the secret had been discovered.
“I don’t think he would have told me he knew unless he wanted it to stop. Whatever his reasons, I don’t think they apply anymore.” I didn’t speak of the words the High Priest had said at Temple earlier in the day, nor did I mention the hint that The Father had plans for me, and what that might mean with the coming sacrifice. It seemed like the odds of Lord Byron’s plan for me carrying weight for very long were slim.
Loris let me go as I backed away and turned toward the manor, because to go against the wishes, even unspoken, of Lord Byron, would violate the vows he’d taken to serve Mistfell and the Veil.
And his duty came first.
He disappeared in the opposite direction on the path as I turned my back on him as well; both going our separate ways as we’d always known we’d need to one day. I hadn’t expected it to sting as much as it did, stripping me of any illusions I’d allowed myself for those few moments wrapped in his arms.
He’d been my safety for a few hours during each week, when we managed to find time together in secret while he was off-duty. He’d made me feel like I mattered—I was more than a broodmare and might be worth risking the consequences to be with—but Loris still turned his back on me without much regret. He’d still walked into the woods to do what was expected of him, in the end.
I continued on my original path through the woods, blinking back the sting of tears I hadn’t expected at the loss of something that had never been mine. Hurrying into the shadows of the trees to avoid further incident, I stuck close to the path but let them cover me as I approached the barracks that housed the Mist Guard.
The Manor lay behind them, protected from the Veil by the imposing building that was practically a fortress. It was said to rival the palace in the capital of Ineburn City in terms of fortitude. I'd never been permitted inside the barracks themselves. No one who wasn't a member of the Mist Guard had. Loris was quiet about the details of the life he lived within those walls, to keep me from really feeling the differences between us. The other guards, however, weren't nearly as aware of the poverty that ran rampant within Mistfell and the way most of us suffered while they lived in luxury.
The Mist Guard were deemed a class all their own. In an ideal world, not tainted by Lord Byron’s corruption, they weren't supposed to report to anyone or anything other than their own doctrines and hierarchy. Not the Lord of Mistfell; not even the King of Nothrek. They were intended to be a separate entity from the crown.
As such, it was only natural that they were treated like royalty as well. This was the reward for choosing a life of service protecting the Kingdom from the creatures on the other side of the impenetrable Veil.
The stone walls surrounding the fortress had been stained brown by time. I skirted around the edge, keeping distance between myself and the patrols that I expected to jump out at any moment. I wistfully eyed the horses that poked their heads out of the barn stalls. It hardly seemed fair that they had the finest horses in the village, while the farmers often had to cope with aging nags that weren't made for hard labor.
The barracks acted as a barrier, separating the Veil from the village, so that no matter what corner of Mistfell one found themselves in, the Mist Guard waited as a silent sentry to the Veil itself. The Guard would be the first thing the Fae encountered, aside from the gardens, if they ever came to Nothrek. If they ever crossed the Veil, it would be to claim the humans they thought belonged to them, after centuries of forced separation kept them away from their mortal counterparts.
Stepping through the edge of the woods, I approached the shimmering white Veil where it swayed on the other side of the trees. The branches reached toward it, as if they couldn't get close enough to the pervasive magic of Faerie, which promised a better life and more fertile soil.
I followed suit against my best intentions, making my way to the edge of the boundary, where the land disappeared into the shimmering magic and the mist that lay beyond. With the gardens to my right, the barracks through the trees behind me, and the Manor gleaming in the distance as it rose above the trees, I swayed like a sapling toward the Veil. It fluttered like the lightest of fabrics when caught in the ocean breeze, the clouded mist on the other side making it impossible to see through to the land of Faerie. Sometimes, in the night, I looked into that mist and swore I saw the shining beacon of dazzling blue eyes staring back at me.
But that was impossible, and sometimes I wondered if that was as much a blessing as everyone insisted. My own idle curiosity and a boring life drove me to the Veil at night to see the stars twinkling in the mist and the lightning storms that rippled through the boundary, like the Old Gods themselves were angry for what had been taken from them.