"You're very quiet."

I'm so deep into my own thoughts that I barely hear his voice. My feet are moving in the direction he is taking me but my mind is elsewhere, thinking of the lie I just told and the consequences of what will happen next. I didn't think I would get this far. What do I tell Renit?

I glance at the guard escorting me to my chambers and force a closed-lip smile. "I have plenty of things on my mind, sometimes I forget there's an entire world out there," I joke.

Binx laughs underneath his breath and as though he's never had a conversation before, blushes and looks to the floor. I didn't say anything to warrant embarrassment and I definitely didn't try to give the impression I like him in any way. If he's working closely to the king, Binx is not to be trusted.

He looks straight ahead once more, a lingering smile on his face. A softness I have not seen since my mother. Ever since then, I've been faced with forced smiles, fake looks of sympathy, and frowns of hatred. Walking with Binx is a breath of fresh air.

Now that I'm distracted, I might as well talk to him. "What is your position at court?" I ask.

"Once I was summoned back here, I was given the position of the king's personal guard. Apparently, my extensive training and fighting on the battlefield was enough to warrant a safe trip home." He shrugs and the deep purple of his eyes brightens. I've seen that color before, on the faces of the elderly and the children but never in-between. Plum is a rare color amongst witches and humans...they don't have the trait of odd-colored eyes.

I suck on my tooth, considering. "You were summoned?"

Binx nods quickly. The armor he wears, the familiar black and gold of the kingdom, clinks with each step he takes. Like everyone else, he's strapped head to toe with an array of weapons. But at least he doesn't have the familiar design of tattoos or ear piercings to signal him as a member of royal blood. I've had enough of their family symbols.

"By who?" I dare to ask.

"By the king himself." Binx stands up straighter, a smirk blossoming at the corner of his mouth. Lines of joy spread across his brown skin with that smile, one of honor.

That doesn't make sense. The king won't hesitate to summon a random soldier from the war camp but he won't send out a group of guards to find his son? The prince of the kingdom? The more I think about it, the less it makes sense.

But I will not bother telling Binx that. I cannot let anyone know that I am suspicious or hiding something that could decide the future fate of this kingdom. That's how far I'm into this, I should be digging my own grave. I shove down the threat of this plan not working at all, the possibility of it is greater than I want to acknowledge.

"That's a high honor," I force myself to say. "If you don't mind me asking another question, what type of witch are you? You must be very important to receive summons from the king himself," I compliment. Anything to make him talk.

Binx nods at two guards monitoring the Great Hall. They nod back, a quick jerk of their chins, and one offers a bow to me. I'll never get used to that, even with being back. "I'm a witch of illusion," Binx says once we've passed and climbed a small flight of stairs and slinked past a very hot brazier.

My entire body stiffens. I don't show my fear. "That's a...strong power. You must be highly trained."

Binx stares at the side of my face for a moment, almost asking me to turn to look at him. But he is not that bold, I can see enough of that truth in his face. "As much as sixty years of training can allow. I'm younger than most but highly skilled. That's why I believe the king asked such an important task of me."

I nod. He's talking to me like we know each other—like we're old friends. Binx shares information like he hasn't talked to someone willing to speak to him in months. Was that the case when he was fighting? Did he have anyone?

I stare sidelong at him and that smile remains. He's proud to be in the position he is, there's high praise for those that have gone so far as to protect the king. Only a handful of guards can say they have. And they'll give their life if it means their king is gifted the chance to live.

Binx will leave with the king tomorrow. The thought hits me as strong as a slap to the face. I could be sending this witch to his death in the flower meadows. Bren won't hesitate to kill him, as he shouldn't, yet I can't hold back the guilt I feel for putting him in this position. He's so...kind. Those eyes are full of light and innocence—a child with wonderment for the world around them.

But he's not a child. He's a witch and his life spans much farther than a mortal. Binx is way beyond being a child. The same can be said for the strength of his power, witches of illusion are some of the most dangerous of our kind. Many have gone so far as to refer to them as 'liars' of witch blood. There's no easier way to put it, avoid a witch of illusion if you're alone. They make for the best thieves.

He stops at the base of the stairs to Renit's tower. His leather boots shuffle against the stone, pants billowing from the buckles. This could be our last conversation. Our only and our last because of what I'm doing to put the king in harm's way.

"Thank you for escorting me back," I offer. Apology sits on the tip of my tongue.

"That is my duty, along with protecting the king." Binx bows at the waist and flashes a white smile in the process. "Is there any other assistance I can provide you?"

Yes. No. Yes. "Just one thing. I need you to summon someone for me. Immediately."

I don't expect him to appear phased by my urgency. And I was right. Binx is as calm as ever as he says, "Who can I retrieve for you?"