Cloak is waiting for me at the farthest end of the courtyard. I spot him blending into a bushel of buckbrush, kicking at a pebble on the ground with his hands stuffed into the pockets of a pair of cinch-waist pants. He senses me and looks up, stopping that bored mantra of pebble-kicking, and has the audacity to flash a toothy grin.

What has gotten into him? Does he take pride in knowing the queen's threat to my life hangs over my head?

The sun gleams on his shirtless back, casting rays onto the ridged scars crossing together over rumps of muscle. Intimidation washes over me, leading me to stare at that lonely pebble rather than what training does to his body after so many years of refusing to fail.

"Are you ready to run?" he asks.

"What?"

He steps closer, only a hair's breadth away, and repeats himself. "I said, are you ready to run?"

Out of all the things we could do together, the most important being going to his mother and telling her he's officially healed, this is the last thing I wish to do. I don't care for running, especially not since the only time I find myself doing it is to get away from someone. Whether a stumbling drunk following me late in the evening, the Void Queen killing my friends and family; running is only for those that don't have to look over their shoulder to a twitching shadow following them around every corner.

"Why do you think this is a good idea?" I retort. He watches me shift my weight from one hip to the next. "Running won't get us anywhere."

"I have strong reason to disagree." With that, he backs away, staring at me all the while. The playful stare on his face demands a chase and an invisible question.

Am I willing to put up with his shit?

He spins, twisting on an elegant heel, and disappears into the trees. One second, he's there, and another, the thick brush and low branches swallow him whole. The only thing left behind is the swaying of leaves and distant crack of branches underneath his shoes as he takes off down a winding trail that leads nowhere.

I close my eyes and breathe a deep sigh. Instead of participating in his foolish games, I can go back to the palace and wait for him there. Either way, whether I take part in this chase, he'll be angry at me tomorrow. So what's the risk? I unleash the Luminary power within that searches for a moving target, finding an enemy in the dark, and like an invisible coil, it whips out, slithering through the branches and underneath roots to find the thundering beat of Cloak's feet hitting the ground with each step.

His movements are nimble; he leaps over rocks and climbs boulders without care. I glance over my shoulder at the looming spikes of the castle's turrets and set my jaw. I've already locked myself to his twisting and complicated path throughout the woods, I might as well follow him.

I push aside the low branches and squeeze into the woods, suffocated by dense nature. My sight changes completely. When I glance back, I can't see the palace through the trees or the wide courtyard bordered on stables and gardens. The whistling wind captures and smothers the voices of the servants, replacing their soft tones with birds chirping and the sway of the higher branches brushing against each other in a gentle breeze. 

Pine overtakes my senses, mingling with the buck brush and aspen trees. The sky breaks through the cluster and lights the way, streaming around chunks and grazing against the covered surface. The longer I wait, taking in the beauty of the woods, the farther Cloak pulls himself away. Already, he's far enough that I'll actually have to run, but my Luminary intelligence tells me to turn in another direction. A shortcut.

Stepping carefully over a root protruding from the ground, I follow that invisible rope tugging me towards Cloak and break into a jog. The woods blur around me. The trees that once stood so tall and wide are hardly blockades—I dodge them swiftly and leap over the roots attempting to snatch my ankles. My hands scrape against the same boulders Cloak climbed over minutes ago. His lingering warmth tells the searching magic to head straight, through a spindled mess of thin trees overcome by cobwebs and morning dew.

I duck low and miss being caught by the spiders searching for a small meal. On the other side, I'm faced with more trees that all look the same as the last. I understand Cloak's play; he wants me to lose myself among the mirroring effects of the woods. Grinning wide, I realize I will do no such thing. He doesn't realize he's playing with a Luminary.

For my sake, he has stopped. The rope doesn't lengthen, nor loosen the farther I travel towards him and when I break through a cluster of berry bushes, nearly slipping off a ledge on the other side, I find him. Sitting at the bank of a small, glistening pond, he tips his head back and brings a glass bottle to his lips. Of course. How could I have expected anything else?

He raises the bottle to me.

"This is what you wanted me to follow you for?" I shout, raising my hands into the air, only to slap them back against my sides in exasperation.

"Don't be so quick to judge me," he snaps. Waving me over, he adds, "Come."

I slide down the side of the ledge, careful not to fall into the pond below. Loose dirt and pebbles skitter off the side, landing in the water and sinking to the bottom. Cloak watches them with a bored tint in his eye. He hasn't even broken into a sweat and appears mostly untouched by the grabby branches and twigs I fought against. A few snapped against my ankles or scraped my cheeks, but the feeling of freedom kept me from slowing down. I suppose the same happened to him, but he has spent many years beyond my lifespan running for his life when nothing chases him.

He pats the clean spot on the boulder he sits on, a seat reserved for me, and I ease myself down at the water's edge.

"Here's your first lesson." My neck aches with how fast I turn to look at him. "Quit asking questions. It's my turn."

I roll my eyes, slouching my shoulders, and pick at a pine cone that fell from the tree overhead. I wish for one to fall at this moment and bounce off his hard skull.

"I suppose if you are to be around for a while—on my mother's order—then we need to trust each other," he goes on. As if he's talking to the pond instead of me, he never tears his stare away from the calm surface that appears more like glass than water. He leans back on his hands, resting his chin on his shoulder to bring his attention to me. "Why are you married to Rylan?"

Out of all the questions I expected him to ask at this moment, this is not one of them. Nor is sitting by the pond instead of being chased by a rabid pack of wolves. Cloak stares at the side of my face and waits for an answer without a shove, only a quiet determination to find out the truth. At least talking to him is better than arguing like an old, married couple.

Shrugging, I say, "We were in love once. He courted me and did everything to win me in his favor."

"Then why has the relationship turned sour?"

"Once we were together, he stopped doing all the things it took to get me by his side. He expected me to be happy with memories of close affection, and he won't allow me out of the marriage now. Rylan turned to other women when he realized early on that his needs would never be satisfied with one woman."

Cloak furrows his brows. My cheeks heat involuntarily—Rylan's influence by making me believe this entire relationship is my fault, that I am the reason he had to turn to others for support in nightly endeavors. I have become more and more embarrassed with the truth; my husband has led me to believe that I could never be worth his time without someone else on the side.

"Tell me about your young life. Where you grew up. Your family," he orders with another swig. He offers me the bottle and I shake my head.

"I was born in Farm. In Gudgeon Village, at the docks. When the Void Queen attacked three years ago, I lost my parents that night. The army of the soulless killed them, and I never received the chance to say goodbye." Staring out at the pond, I realize I don't want to stop talking. I've kept this bottled up inside under the belief that no one wanted to hear, and no one cared. Especially not someone of Cloak's standard. A dragonfly hovers over the water's surface, its small wings creating the smallest ripple over the clear, dark water.

Cloak watches the dragonfly flutter away, soaring into the trees to disappear into shadow. "You said you received your healing abilities that night."

I nod. "My brother tried to stop her, and she moved to break his spine and kill him. Something didn't work, and he survived. Castiel can't walk now, he has been forced into a wheelchair ever since."

The memory of him crawling along the sand, his legs useless behind him—it makes me want to vomit. My entire body shivers with the remembrance of how helpless I felt in those moments, the fear on his face and the pain that lanced every movement of his then-strong body. It was the first time I ever saw my brother fall weaker than myself. But seconds later, Wyetta Terravale pierced my heart.

Cloak clinks his nails against the bottle, and I shake myself out of that horrid nightmare. He's staring at me, studying my face as if waiting for me to snap.

I look away. "Castiel hasn't been the same since," I say. "I work at the docks to pay for his medication. It's the only thing that keeps him from feeling the pain of that injury."

A breeze wavers over the pond's surface and warms my face. The water laps against the shore for a moment, inches away from the toe of my boots as if reaching for me in silent comfort. After a brief second of silence, Cloak tips his head back and drains the last of the bottle's contents. Then, he stands and brushes the pine needles off the back of his pants.

"Where are you going?" I question.

He shrugs. "I only wanted to know these things so I don't have to wake to a stranger every day in my chambers, asking me questions about things she doesn't need to know." He jerks his chin down to me as if I'm nothing more than a young girl with a crush. I am definitely not that. "I'll see you back at the palace."

"Wait, don't you want to—"

Before I can get out the full sentence, he turns and breaks into a jog, once again disappearing like a ghost through the trees. For a moment, I watch the space where he disappeared and wait for him to reemerge. I don't bother allowing the strength of my power to find him; he's long gone.

I bask in the pond's silence and lean forward to test my suspicions. My fingers break through the water's surface with ease. It's not glass, then.

How did Cloak find this place? He had to know where to go. I log this information away for later—Cloak has a special place that I haven't heard about yet. But he led me towards it, believing the confines of the stronghold weren't enough to divulge this material. I smile to myself and stand, taking the glass bottle to bring back to the palace. Cloak's warmth lingers on the sides.

To my surprise, I don't mind the walk back to the palace. The woods cheer me on in their calm, affectionate way. Gudgeon Village doesn't have woods unless you travel north to Flower Foothills. Even there, there aren't trees to block you away from the eye of civilization. The endless hills of flowers, as the name describes, are a wonder to look at. But they don't compare to the silence of the woods.

Cloak is in them somewhere, swallowed whole. The same as me. I can't help but wonder if we're one step closer to trusting each other and figuring out what it'll take to put me in his favor.

Back in my room, I arrive to normal, empty conditions. Except for the sealed envelope on the desk. The blue seal, the same shade as Gustus's eyes, sticks out like a sore thumb in the dark, brown room. His initials dance together, the two letters mixing in wide, dramatic swoops—bordered on lilies and roses.

My hands shaking, I stick my thumb underneath the seal. What could the prince want and does it have anything to do with my outburst from the day before?