Eloisa’s eyes widened. “Oh, wow,” she exclaimed. “Do you miss it?”

  “My home?” Kerensa pondered. “Sometimes.”

  A beat of silence passed before Eloisa spoke again. “It wasn’t your choice to leave, was it?” Gray watched as the wonder slowly leached from her eyes.

  “Not exactly.” Kerensa’s voice was soft, delicate almost. “Unfortunately there are some things we can’t control, Eloisa, no matter how hard we might try.”

  After another pause, Gray broke in cautiously, “We should leave Lady Kerensa to her day, Eloisa.”

  His sister grew solemn, saying quietly, “It was nice meeting you, Lady.”

  They bowed and Kerensa returned, “It was nice meeting you, too.”

  Nothing more was exchanged between them before she walked off, leaving Gray and Eloisa to linger in contemplative quiet for a while longer.

  Chapter Twenty

  Wren had never imagined that the life of a noble could be so unbelievably boring.

  She spent the better half of her days wandering aimlessly around the palace halls and exploring the grounds, familiarizing herself with the environment. She was wasting time doing exactly that when an arm wrapped around her waist, someone’s breath tickling her ear.

  Her eyes shifted to look Alaric up and down, gaze narrowing in on his suspiciously arrogant grin. Before she could say a word, his voice feathered along the shell of her ear, a chill rippling down her spine. “Tonight after dark. The eastern tower roof. I have something I want to share with you, so don’t be late.”

  And then he pulled away, the loss of contact leaving a sense of cold Wren hadn’t noticed before. She blinked and he had turned the corner, gone without a trace.

  She was willing to take whatever he was willing to share, which she perceived to be very little—though it wasn’t like she’d done a whole lot of sharing, either.

  So just like that, the Crown Prince had her agreeing to a secret encounter in the middle of the night.

  Moments after Alaric had disappeared, two pairs of hands seized her arms from behind and Wren jerked away in surprise. “Let go of me,” she beseeched, trying to wrench her way free.

  “His Majesty wishes to see you,” one of the guards told her unfeelingly.

  “So he sent you two to drag me along?” she fumed with a sneer. “Well, lucky you. Have at it, then.”

  Neither of them bothered to respond except by doing exactly what she’d just dared them to do.

  She threw a glance back over her shoulder down the way that Alaric had gone, hoping for…What am I even hoping for? There was no one but herself who could do anything for her in this situation.

  The guards held her tightly the whole way to their destination, though she quickly discerned they weren’t taking her to the main hall, instead to somewhere in the west wing she hadn’t yet been. One of them knocked on a set of double doors, waiting for an order from someone inside.

  When it came, the doors opened and Wren was pushed past them, straight into the King of Lithera’s line of sight over his long cherry wood desk. The drapes were drawn across every window, casting tall shadows along the cabinets and shelves that lined the ornately detailed walls.

  “So nice of you to join me, Lady Kerensa,” he pronounced. “I simply wished to congratulate you on passing my test many days ago now.”

  Wren stood straight as a board, the only thing on her mind being to bear this and then get out as soon as possible.

  “It is quite an impressive feat to be capable of. Which makes me wonder what else you may be capable of that not even you are aware of yet, my dear.” The king appraised her thoroughly, fingers tapping his chin. “I also have information to pass along. A new…condition of my generosity if you will,” he said, a smile emerging slowly but surely.

  He left her suspended on his last word, anticipating whatever torture he would throw at her next. Wren closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, sick of being used and played with and broken and all these things that her life had been reduced to.

  “By my degree, you will quietly heal at least one ailing person of my choosing every week. If you fail to cooperate, your little town in the south will suffer my wrath.”

  Heal.

  Heal.

  Heal.

  Her ears were full of water, that one word the only thing for her to grasp onto in the sea of nothingness that submerged her entire being, drowning as she kicked for air.

  Heal them, Wren.

  Do not fear.

  This is what you were made to do.

  ༺═──────────────═༻

  Alaric leaned forward against the low wall of the roof, taking in the slumbering city below him. The top of the eastern tower was one of his favourite places in Farrador Castle, especially at this time of night, when the lights of Evaleer were extinguished and the stars cast their soft glow over the whole world.

  The gentle night breeze tousled his dark blond hair, tinging his cheeks pink as Alaric released a long breath. Often, he came up here to think, or sometimes to enjoy a moment of peace.

  Tonight, it was to escape.

  Less than a month remained until the wedding. He’d already been forced to sit through several Privy Council congregations where they discussed the details and politics of his betrothal, and he was aware that many more were to come. All of it made him fairly miserable.

  The thing that frustrated him the most, though, was the part Kerensa was being forced to play in all this. Alaric had always known that he would most likely have to marry for political reasons. He had just never thought that it would be at another woman’s expense.

  He heard the audible creak of the wooden door behind him, and turned to see Kerensa emerge, looking as gorgeous as ever, even in the dark.

  “I had to lie to my guards, you know,” she said accusingly, her silhouette illuminated by the crescent moon.

  “I hope it wasn’t too outlandish,” he chuckled quietly.

  “Me? Outlandish? What could you possibly…” Kerensa trailed off as Alaric approached her steadily and ran his hands down her arms, easing the tension he observed there.

  “Relax, Kerensa.” Alaric grinned slightly, ensuring, “You have nothing to fear up here with me.”

  Her copper eyes searched his in a way that made it seem like this was the moment she would either walk away or stay right here next to him. He held his breath while he waited for her choice.

  “What did you want to share with me?” Her voice was like music every time it reached his ears.

  He smiled, relieved, and in an attempt to distract them both from everything that was out of their hands, Alaric gently slid his fingers into hers and led her to the ledge he’d just vacated. He watched her as she took in the glittering world below. Kerensa gasped at the sight and a smile hid at the corners of Alaric’s mouth.

  She turned her head towards him, her eyes shimmering like fire in the dark.

  “Look up,” he whispered.

  And tonight, the starlit sky was one to behold. As though the very expanse was falling on them, fractured stars reigned across the sky, triumphant in their light and falling like raindrops—one after the other in a continuous loop, never pausing nor slowing for even a single moment. It gave into an illusion that the rest of the world was spinning while Alaric and Kerensa stood unmoving in front of each other.

  “The stars. What are they…” she trailed off, inhaling sharply in awe.

  Alaric tilted his head down to glimpse Kerensa. Her entire face was glowing, round copper eyes shining almost golden, her lips spilt into one of those rare, dazzling smiles. He was dumbstruck in an instant. “It’s called Stell Imbrym. It only occurs once a year, always on the same night,” Alaric relayed. They observed the sky in silence, but he could not tear his gaze away from Kerensa even if he tried.

  Looking at her, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Dance with me.”

  Kerensa had profusely refused the numerous times he’d asked her to dance at the banquet a month ago, so he wasn’t entirely surprised when her gaze cut to him and she shook her head, declining, “No, no, I can’t.” She tried to slip away from him, but Alaric held onto her fast. She looked down at their clasped hands and swallowed.

  “Come on,” he urged. “You know we’ll be expected to dance at the wedding. Think of it as practice.”

  “No, Alaric. Just—no.”

  “Why not, then?”

  She spoke so quietly next that Alaric had to lean closer to hear. “I…I don’t know how.”

  He proffered his other hand to her without a second thought. “Then let me teach you.”

  Kerensa studied his hand, every line and callous heavily scrutinized. Her eyes flitted up to meet his before her palm rested perfectly in the centre of his.

  Alaric led her away from the wall and to the middle of the tower roof. He moved her left hand, murmuring, “This one goes on my shoulder,” as he placed it there, “and mine goes here.” He laid one hand at her waist. She tensed infinitesimally at the contact. “I’m not going to hurt you, Kerensa,” he comforted.

  “I know,” she breathed.

  “The dance is simple. If I move back,” Alaric demonstrated, “you move forward.” She did so deliberately. “And if I move forward,”—he took a step towards her—“you would move backwards.” She stepped away from him. “When I move to the side, follow in that same direction,” he said, shifting to the right as Kerensa moved with him. “That’s really all you need to know. As long as you follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”

  She laughed, “Just don’t get mad when I step on your toes.”

  “I would never.” Alaric grinned.

  She shook her head, still chuckling.

  Gradually, they eased into a slow rhythm, dancing to the music in the stars, the moon, and the city below them, swaying gracefully in harmony and exchanging demurred smiles.

  Alaric was transfixed by the woman spinning in his arms. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend the extent of what Kerensa had been through, and she was still a few years younger than him. He was beginning to see the fear that followed her every day, the anxiety that threatened her conscious mind every waking moment. It was comparable to watching someone suspended above a dark chasm by a single thread of desperation, hanging on with every ounce of strength that they had left. And Kerensa was so strong. Alaric would have to be blind to not see that, too. Her iron-clad will was her defensive wall—what she showed everyone who dared glance her way, disguising any suffering in defiance and irritability. He admired her spirit, no matter the damage and pain this life had dealt her. Though he could admit that the fact that she walked through life with fear as a constant companion concerned him. It made him realize that he had to be there for her in any way she would allow him to be, just to keep her from falling victim to her own demons.

  Alaric vowed—with the dancing stars and the gods as his witnesses—that until the day he died he would continue to show her every wonderful thing life had to offer.

  She deserved that much at least.

  For now though, he would dance with her all through the night while they both forgot about the realities of their lives. Three hells, he would dance with her forever if that’s what she wanted.

  A flicker of light caught his eye, and he turned his head to find tendrils of fire and ice dancing in the air around them, in tandem with their rhythm. Kerensa noticed them too, her expression contemplative as she watched what could only be explained as magic twirl and spin in a circle around them. She gently halted Alaric’s movements and removed her hand from his shoulder to gesture with it in the air. To his surprise, the sparks of flame obeyed her flourish, shifting in the corresponding direction. She clenched her fist, and the fire snuffed out, leaving the shards of frost to drift to the ground and wink out.

  “I don’t understand,” she muttered, and Alaric was given the impression that she was talking to herself. “Why does it have to be fire?” Her voice was low and trembling, her hands starting to shake.

  Alaric put a hand on either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. “Kerensa,” he said gently. “Focus on me. Get out of your head and listen to my voice. I am here with you, alright?” He searched her eyes, making sure she wasn’t lost in some other moment in time. “I’m here. You’re safe, I promise.”

  She bobbed her head in answer, her breaths slowing to a normal pace. “I hear you,” she assured him. “I’m okay.”

  He withdrew his hands from her face and took a respectful step back, giving her some space to regain control. Even just from this distance, she looked terribly small and fragile—nothing at all like the Kerensa he’d come to know.

  Alaric sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “We should—” His sentence was cut off by Kerensa’s lips falling against his.

  He pulled back a fraction, slightly startled by her sudden action, but then he pressed his mouth to hers in a long, desperate kiss. Her lips were warm and soft, and Alaric brought his hands back up to hold her face, drawing her closer. Kerensa wove her arms around his neck and gripped the hair at his nape. Her scent was intoxicating as it invaded his nose, like sweet honey and leather. The two of them stayed suspended in that moment for what he hoped was forever.

  At last they broke apart, chests rising and falling heavily. Alaric rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the inches separating them.

  “Before you so rudely interrupted me,” he drawled, a smirk curving his face, “I was going to say we should probably get back to our rooms.”

  Kerensa hummed, “Then will you escort me, Prince?”

  Alaric’s grin widened. “I would be honoured, Thief.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  S unlight streamed through the windows of her bedroom when Ambria blinked the sleep from her eyes and languidly reached across the bed for Mateo. To her displeasure, the spot beside her was vacant, the sheets having long lost his warmth.

  Bri grudgingly slid out from beneath the covers, her hair falling in waves down her back as she padded across her bedroom to wrap a robe around her nightgown. She moved to the door next and eased it open. “Mateo?” she called into their modest townhouse.

  “In the kitchen, Bri!” her husband shouted back.

  Ambria made her way down the hall to the kitchen, suppressing a yawn when quiet voices reached her from the space she approached. Who would visit us this early in the morning? Mateo never held appointments at their house, especially not when she was still sleeping.

  Ambria entered the kitchen and immediately wished she’d stayed in bed.

  The conversation between Mateo and Kai ceased when she appeared in the archway. Her husband rose from his chair at their kitchen table to kiss her cheek in greeting. Ambria responded by grabbing his hand and tugging him back into the hallway.

  “What is he doing here?” she hissed.

  Mateo’s brows drew together, giving away his distress. “I don’t know. He showed up only a few minutes ago. I wasn’t sure if you would want me to turn him away—”

  “But you allowed him to ambush me before I even have a chance to wake up!” Bri shook her head fiercely, peering back into the kitchen to glimpse her brother. Kai remained seated in his chair, eyes glued to his hands that fidgeted nervously in his lap. She looked back at Mateo. “We don’t like him right now, remember?”

  “I’m sorry, darling.” His cornflower blue eyes burned with sincerity as he expelled a harsh breath.

  She placed a hand on his cheek, her thumb tracing the curve of his jaw. “I’m not upset with you—I know you always keep my best interests at heart. It’s him I’m mad at for unfairly springing this on the both of us.” She inspected his gaze, waiting for his nod of understanding before she allowed herself to step away and confront her brother.

  Once she received that, Ambria stomped back to the kitchen and halted in front of Kai, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is there a specific reason you bestowed your presence upon our place of residence, or did you just come here to put me in a bad mood, Kai?”

  Kai looked up at her, pale blue eyes pleading. “Please, Ambria. I need your help.” Softer now, he said, “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Well, I know what you shouldn’t have done,” she berated, “was suddenly tell our family you’re abdicating your claim to our legacy and then just walk out the door!”

  “I—”

  “Father withdraws in a year and a half, brother. The only person willing to take over is Uncle Cade, and Father has spent his entire life trying to keep the House out of his hands.” Cade Ellymae was Quincy’s scheming younger brother, who had almost succeeded in stealing her father’s rightful place as patriarch decades ago.

  “I can’t do anything about that anymore.”

  “You can, you just won’t,” Bri snapped. “Don’t fool yourself. There’s a difference.”

  Kai pushed back his chair and stood with a growl. “I don’t want that life, Ambria.”

  “And what life do you want? One without a home or a family? Dangerous and full of the adventure you’re so fond of?” she practically shouted at him, trying to penetrate his thick skull.

  “How would you like to give up any chance you have of choosing the way you live your life, little sister?” Kai threw back.

  It was that moment that her anger exploded, and she yelled, fists shaking, “I’ve already made my choice! This is the life I was raised to live, so don’t you dare go and throw that in my face. We’re talking about your responsibilities, not mine.”

  “What do you care about what happens to the House?” he said darkly. “None of it will matter to you soon enough, anyways.”

  “That is my family and my House. And I care about what happens to them if neither of us are there.” Tears dampened her eyelashes.

  “You mean if I’m not there. High House Ellymae can never be yours, Bri. Or did you forget that you’re just a woman?”

  Bri fell back as if he’d struck her. Red hot rage boiled under her skin but hurt lingered in her chest. The truth was, she wanted her right to claim the hierarchy. It wasn’t until this minute that she realized just how desperately she wanted that, but that desire rose to the surface now. She hadn’t been lying when she said that her whole life had been spent preparing her to be able to support her husband while he supported a House patriarchy. But the truth was that she wanted to support her own, too.