Wesley’s quarters had a view of the Midsummer Gardens in the centre of town, with its tranquil ponds, tall palms, and rainbow plants, attended to by hundreds of gardeners each day. Like blood vessels from the heart, the gardens stretched out through the city in the median strips of the main thoroughfares.
Along the torch-lit city roads were horse-drawn carriages and carts, transporting food into the city for the celebrations the next day, from the fields and farms that stretched out as far as the eye could see to the north, east and west.
The people of Andervale had been rejoicing over the royal wedding. Despite the late hour, the city was alive with music, dancing, and wine. Market stalls lined every street and road. The celebrations would carry on for days, with the day after the wedding being host to the Uniting Tourney, the biggest festivity of all.
But Wesley thought not of the wedding celebrations, his spinning, wine-induced headache, or even the bitter cool against his fair skin.
All that he could focus on what he had just done with the child bride asleep in his bed. The situation had at first disgusted him, but he could not deny the gratification he had also received.
It made Wesley question everything he thought he knew. Something about having control over another gave him more pleasure than he’d ever experienced.
He thought back to the day his mother had died. Wesley had found her in her room, beaten beyond recognition and sputtering blood and spittle in moans of agony.
He had never confronted his father Tobius about it, despite suspecting that he was responsible. He had been a scared, naïve little boy, and in some ways still felt exactly the same as he once had.
He had sworn off violence on that day… yet the rush of taking Ciana on his wedding night had made him question his vow.
He ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated, remembering Jodie. He could not help it. Whenever he tried moving forward with life, it always came back to her. Each passing day took him further away from the woman he loved. The woman he had always loved.
Jodie Blacktree.
Wesley was filled with remorse and a crippling pain. He wanted to cry but could not force the tears to come out. He wanted to scream but felt the air trapped in his throat.
He wanted to jump… but could not muster up the courage to do it.
Wesley looked up at the heavens above. In the sky was a strange, shining, red star, brighter than the rest. He could not help but postulate into its significance.
A message from the Moon Mother, perhaps? Red like blood, maybe a sign of the Bleeding he had performed with Ciana? He did not know.
Wesley put his hand into his pocket, remembering the piece of paper that Jodie Blacktree had slipped him earlier that night. He had not had the chance to look upon it yet.
He peered behind him through the balcony doors to make sure his new wife stayed sleeping. Ciana lay face down, unconscious beneath linens and blankets. She looked to be a deep sleeper.
Wesley pulled out Jodie’s note and unfolded it.
Come see me at midnight,
where we used to meet.
J.
Wesley was filled with spontaneous excitement. He re-read the softly written words. He and Jodie had not spent any time with each other since she was wed to Petir Blacktree… what did this mean?
What does she want? Another night, just her and I? Could this really be happening?
He was unsure of what to expect. His hopes of holding Jodie in his arms once again had faded with each passing day, but could this be the chance he had so longed for?
Wesley looked at the night sky and collections of stars. He spotted Egor’s Fang, a constellation in the shape of the dagger-like tooth of the sabrecat titan. If it was in the sky already, that only meant one thing.
Shit, it’s past midnight already.
Judging by the season and its position in the sky, Wesley could work out that it was already closer to dawn than it was to midnight.
Without thinking, Wesley climbed over the balcony’s stony balustrade, holding on tight with both hands. A fall from such a height would mean certain death for the prince.
“Just like old times,” Wesley muttered to himself, feeling the rush of adrenaline take hold.
He began climbing down, releasing his grip from the balustrade’s pillars, and grabbing a small handhold on the edge of the balcony. His legs dangled out over open air.
He wasn’t as strong as he used to be. It was a tough exercise. With his stomach beginning to churn, Wesley climbed underneath the balcony he had just been standing on, using the building’s rocky façade to cling on to.
His senses were still somewhat distorted, and everything was a bit of a blur. It made it difficult.
He steadily made his way down to the level beneath him before releasing his grip, jumping, and landing on another balcony some ten feet below his own with a thud.
He had made it.
Wesley got to his feet and took a deep breath in. It had been a long time since he had exerted himself in such a way.
The doors to the balcony opened and a hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him inside into a dark bedroom.
Jodie Blacktree closed the doors behind him and turned to look in his eyes with a smile spreading across her soft face.
The room Wesley had climbed down to was once used as sleeping quarters for guests but had not been utilised in many years. It was cold, dark, and damp, filled with dust-covered furniture and cobwebs hanging from the ceiling.
A single candle was lit.
