Chapter 10 How a Thalorian Walks Behind You

Chapter 10 How a Thalorian Walks Behind You

The west wing corridor always sounded quieter after midnight.
My footsteps bounced off the stone floor, the rhythm quick, almost like I was trying to outrun something, or someone, walking a few paces behind.
Zade Thalorian.
I felt him without needing to look.
The weight of his steps was different from the guards who usually patrolled. Not hurried, not lazy. Measured. Like someone who already knew every crack in the floor and never worried about stepping on one.
Torchlight on the walls dragged my shadow long in front of me, while his, taller and broader, sometimes slid alongside mine when we passed through narrow arches. Every time it happened, the back of my neck went tight.
I hated how aware I was of the space between us.
"Her Highness the Princess is walking as if this palace is about to collapse," his voice finally cut through the quiet. Calm. Low. Too self-possessed. "Is your room on fire?"
I didn’t slow down. "If the palace were collapsing, I wouldn’t run to my room. I’d run to the stables."
"Ah." There was something like a smile at the edge of his voice. "Of course. The rebellious princess would choose to flee first and think about the rest later."
I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see. "I’m not fleeing. I just don’t like being locked up. Two different things."
"That is exactly what the old chronicles say about prisoners," he replied lightly.
I stopped at the crossing of the corridors and turned. The torch on the wall between us lit the side of his face: the sharp line of his jaw, the straight nose, a mouth whose corners always seemed to be holding on to a comment he didn’t say. His blue eyes, deeper than the sky before a storm, met mine without a flicker.
In the firelight, his skin looked like something carved from stone that was too smooth to be called rough but too hard to be called soft. The black shirt clung to his chest and shoulders, tracing the shape of muscle that reminded me that, besides being a Lord, he was very used to a sword.
And I hated him for how fully aware I was of all that.
"If you came to teach me manners, you showed up a few years late," I said.
"I didn’t come to teach you anything," he answered. "I was only ordered to escort Your Highness to your room. And to make sure you actually go inside instead of climbing out the first window you see."
Heat crawled up my cheeks. Too accurate. "Bold accusation for someone who just arrived in Evrithall."
"Evrithall is full of stories," he said. "And your name is always in them."
Of course.
The Thalorian name was older than Caeloria. That was what it said in the thick books I used to read in secret. A family that claimed, and others accused, depending on who spoke, to carry the blood of a god who did not bow to Hannan, but to something far older. No one ever dared correct the way Zade opened doors, walked, or stood. Even the Duke spoke his name carefully, like naming a storm passing overhead.
So of course Lord Thalorian could walk behind me like this corridor was built just for the two of us.
I turned back and kept walking. His footsteps followed, never too close, never far enough.
"If you keep staring at me like that much longer," I muttered without looking back, "people will think you are taking the protection of my virtue very seriously."
"Very?" he repeated. I could almost see one eyebrow lifting. "I haven’t even started."
I almost choked on air. "I don’t need that kind of protection."
"There are many things you don’t need," he said. "But that doesn’t mean you don’t receive them."
I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back a reply that came out too sharp. My energy was already drained thin today for a full brawl with a Thalorian.
We turned the corner. At the end of the corridor, a tall window framed the night sky: scattered pinprick stars, Thaldrun in the distance nothing more than a dark line at the foot of the horizon. Cold air slipped through the cracks in the stone, brushing the skin at my wrist, reminding me of the gold flare that had burst from there earlier.
My fingers tightened in my skirt.
Do not think about that. Not in front of him.
Zade broke the silence again. "You seem... different tonight."
"Different how?" My voice came out flat.
"Usually you humor Lord Felix until he realizes on his own that he is an idiot," he said. "Tonight you stopped before breaking his head open with your words."
"Disappointed?" I huffed under my breath. "You wanted a blood show?"
"Any show that bares Caeloria’s teeth," he said. "But today... it felt like you were saving your teeth for something else."
My stomach pulled tight. For a heartbeat, the face of the man on the straw bed flashed in my mind. His breath returning. The black veins shrinking back.
I drew a slow breath. "Maybe I’m tired."
"Maybe," he said. But his tone said he didn’t buy it.
We approached my door. Heavy wood carved with Caeloria’s small crest in the center: a sun with three rays. Ironic.
I stopped in front of it and turned, leaning back against the cool panels. Zade halted right in front of me, only a few steps away. Close enough that I could see the small silver ring on his finger, its design like links of a chain locking into each other.
"Thank you for the escort," I said. "You’ve fulfilled the Duke’s orders."
"I almost always follow orders," he replied. "Unless the order is stupid."
"And you think tonight is stupid?"
He didn’t answer right away. His gaze dropped for a second to my arms folded across my chest, then lifted back to my face. "I think ordering someone else to walk a wild lion back to its cage is not a bad idea. As long as you understand the cage is never really locked."
"Who’s the lion here?" I asked. "Me? Or your ego?"
Something flickered in his eyes, not anger. Something between amusement and wariness.
"I’ve got enough ego that it doesn’t need defending," he said. "You, Your Highness, have enough... something that the entire palace spins a little faster every time you walk by. The order to keep an eye on you is not entirely unreasonable."
His words brushed against something in my chest I hadn’t tamed yet. The part that had flared gold this afternoon and was now trying to shrink back under bone.
"If you’re done observing me like I’m some strange study subject," I said, "I’d like to sleep."
"You still haven’t answered one thing," he said.
I lifted my chin, defiant. "What now?"
He leaned in a little. Not much. Just enough to pull the air between us tight. The scent of skin, faint sweat and something like cold metal slipped into my nose.
"Are you keeping something from me, Castella?"
My name in his mouth sounded like an improper prayer.
I held my breath for a moment. The back of my neck went cold again. My spine pressed harder into the door, like the wood could absorb the tension spinning under my skin.
"Of course," I answered at last, my voice still steady. "So are you. That makes us even."
A thin smile passed over his mouth. Not warmth. Not a full threat. Just an acknowledgment that he had heard and accepted it.
"Even," he repeated. "For now."
He stepped back once. The corridor felt a little wider again.
"Good night, Your Highness," he said. "Don’t go out the window tonight. The High Priest will cry if you get caught halfway up the wall tomorrow morning."
"I don’t care if the High Priest cries or not," I shot back. "But I do care if you’re secretly tailing me everywhere."
"If I were tailing you," he said as he turned away, "you wouldn’t notice."
I wanted to throw something at his head. Unfortunately, the only thing in my hand was the door handle.
He started walking off. His footsteps faded, but that heavy aura still clung to the air like the ghost of a touch.
Right before he vanished around the corner, he glanced back, just a fraction, the outline of his face caught by the last torch.
Debt, his look reminded me.
The Night Keep.
The book with the dark red cover.
And now, one more secret added to the list, one I was determined never to tell anyone, least of all a godspawn who walked like the world belonged to him.
I slipped into my room and shut the door quietly behind me.
And in the dark of the room, with my back resting against the wood, I realized one thing:
between dragon breath, golden light, and the blue gaze of a Thalorian, sleep might be the single hardest thing I had to do tonight.