Chapter 38
38
Lyra
Myrdan guards were tangled with Stav on all sides of the inner court procession through the streets of Stonegate.
Much the same as when I’d stepped into town with Emi, hawkers shouted prices, hoping for a royal sale. Margun had orders of custom gowns with lace, silk, and satin ribbons to fund her shop until the next frost.
Kael kept a distance, allowing me to drift along with courtiers who followed Yrsa.
The princess and Emi kept the lead, but soon enough most of the crowd bled into shops of their own interest, and I was shoved back into the hordes. As the melder, I would be expected to commission a fine gown for Thane’s vow ceremony, but I found little interest in the bustle today.
In truth, all I wanted to do was find my Draven guard.
Gods, I needed to tread with caution. Both Roark and I knew Damir would never sanction any sort of affection between us. If Roark were to have a lover, I had few doubts the king would use it strategically. A high-ranking Stav with Draven blood would go to a noble Jorvan woman, a slight to Dravenmoor or a branch of peace.
I knew little of Roark’s folk in his homeland, but perhaps he would be a bridge between kingdoms. My heart dropped. If Damir found the Wanderer’s bones, none of us would have any choice or power to speak against him.
There was true, dangerous trouble facing the kingdoms, but I was a wretch. My thoughts would not stop wandering to the Sentry.
We’d kissed, we’d touched, but none of it meant Roark would want me for his match. No mistake, the king would never allow it anyway.
My fingers trailed over a wooden table laden in bands made from bone and glittering threads, necklaces of blue pearls and gold, and broaches of all kinds. I selected a curious ring of silver and bronze. Two serpents entangled, jaws spread, like they were readying to devour the other.
“Pretty thing, isn’t it.” The woman behind the stand grinned, polishing a cloak pin with a thick linen cloth. She nodded at the ring. “The symbol comes from the poem of the nymph and her night and day lovers.”
I slid the ring on my center finger and glanced at the woman. “I don’t know that tale.”
“Ah. ’Tis a tale of a beautiful nymph from the gods’ wood. First, she gave her heart to a man who was bold, kind, and good. But one night on her journey home, she came across another man. He was not like the first. He was strong, cunning, and wicked.”
The woman winked and placed the polished pin on the tabletop and leaned onto her palms. “The nymph’s heart was drawn to both. Uncertain what to do, she prayed to the goddess of love. Touched by her plea, the goddess combined the two men as one. And that, they say, is what it means to love a heart—the lightest pieces, and the darkest.”
True love. To accept another soul—the good and the bad—and love them through it all.
I slid the ring off my finger and returned it to the table. “I suppose it’s what most of us want, right?”
“The legend says this symbol calls to those whose hearts are torn.” The woman winked again. “I hope you find what your heart wants soon.”
What my heart wanted? I thought it yearned to be free of these walls once. But now I yearned for more of Roark’s wicked hands on my skin, more of his sly grin, more of his soft laughter.
My insides cinched. In another breath, I recalled the icy touch of a phantom in the mirror land. The way his nearness quickened my pulse. A cruel soul, yet I didn’t pull away. A piece of me, deep within, almost anticipated the sight of him whenever the king used my craft.
Gods, I was a fool. I allowed a man to touch me, so intimately, yet I was betraying everyone by conversing and plotting with a killer.
Heat rushed to my head and turned my stomach. I needed to be free of these crowds.
While Kael was turned, speaking to another Stav standing watch, I slipped around the corner where tall tenements and arched bridges shadowed the streets from the burn of the sun.
I followed a set of narrow steps to one of the lower streets. Noise from the market faded. Only simple conversation and a few voices followed.
There were a few lingering Myrdan guards about, laughing with one another as though they were waiting for someone. Strange.
I went back the other direction, but stopped at the sound of breathless sighs from inside a small cottage with boarded windows and a roof that leaned to one side. Moans and more feminine sighs followed. One glance over my shoulder to ensure I was alone, and I peeked through a crack in one of the boards over the window.
My breath caught in my chest.
Emi was inside. She wasn’t alone. Her slender fingers were threading through the dark waves of Princess Yrsa’s hair. She claimed Yrsa’s mouth, kissing the princess like she did not know how to let go.
Yrsa dug into Emi’s waist, holding her close, her back to the crooked wall.
I blinked, one hand to my chest. My heart snapped against my ribs, and I feared it might crack in two at any moment.
Prince Thane would be devastated. I did not know how much passion lived between the prince and princess, but I knew enough that Thane genuinely cared for her. He looked forward to their vows fondly.
Anger grew more so toward Emi. She was not only a Stav, but Thane’s friend.
I peeled away from the wall, conflicted. Prince Thane was not a brutal man. I was confident he would not punish either of them should I speak of it, but in another breath I wasn’t convinced it was my place to speak at all.
From one of the towers of the palace, a bell rattled through the market.
The evening gates would be locked soon, and more feasts would be had. I gathered my skirt and hurried back to the main square, desperate to forget what I’d seen.
“Lyra.” Kael shoved through a few men. “By the gods, where were you?” He dropped his voice. “Were you with him?”
I frowned. “No. And if I were, what do you think you would do about it, Kael Darkwin?”
His jaw worked. “Lyra, this is not a game.”
“I know,” I snapped. “Please, just…I know. He is not a game to me.”
“And what is he? You think this will be allowed? You think when Ashwood settles with a wife it will be you? The king has already told Thane he will force Ashwood to take a noble Jorvan woman by the next frosts. Did you know that? I assure you there is no shortage of ambitious fathers who would want their daughter paired to the future king’s most trusted warrior. Where does that leave you?”
Mortifying tears burned in my eyes. I didn’t know why; nothing Kael said was anything I had not considered myself. The blame fell to what I witnessed with Yrsa and Emi, with the truth that I had allowed myself to feel something more than was wise for the Sentry.
Kael’s features softened. He took hold of my hand, holding it between his palms. “Lyra, I’m sorry. That was harsh.”
I shook my head. “No. It was true. I’m fine, Kael.”
“He”—Kael cleared his throat—“Ashwood didn’t force you to do anything, right?”
“No. Gods, no. We didn’t even…” I hurriedly waved details away. “He knows as well as I we should not cross such lines.”
Kael didn’t look appeased, but he nodded. “Remember, I am loyal to Jorvandal, but I am more loyal to you. Accomplices?”
I smiled and hooked a hand through his arm. “Always.”
It wasn’t my place.
I kept repeating the words the entire time I dressed for the feast.
Despite the warnings from Kael, despite knowing within the full seasons I would likely lose Roark to an arranged match, I craved his steadiness now. He was stoic, but there was a sense of calm that soothed my nerves when the Sentry was near.
Likely, he was with the prince.
I remained with his cousin.
Emi had chattered on as she dressed. I offered distant, simple responses, bitterness at her deceit growing the longer we were near each other.
Why did it matter? Loyalty among royals was hardly common. King Damir and Queen Ingir could hardly spare a glance at each other. The king’s lovers were openly paraded in the palace, and I had few doubts Ingir took her own.
Thane was different from his mother and father. He saved Roark, even saved Emi. Perhaps that was it. The prince had done so much to be different, to bring peace and safety to others, and this felt a great deal like she’d dug a knife in his spine.
“Are you going to tell me what has you so sour?” Emi heaved a rather theatrical sigh and perched one hip on the edge of the vanity where I finished dabbing a touch of kohl under my lashes.
“I’m not sour.”
She puffed out her lips. “I’m not sure you know the meaning of the word, then.”
“It’s nothing.”
“So there is something.” She nudged my shoulder and I clenched a fist. “Did something happen in the market? Did someone bother you? Tell me, and—”
“No.” I rose and turned my back on her.
“Lyra. What is it? If you’ve been disrespected again, I will make sure—”
“I saw you!” Dammit . I closed my eyes, wishing the words back onto my tongue. I let out a harsh breath. “I saw you, and…how could you?”
Emi’s face paled. “You mean, you saw me and—”
“The princess. Yes.” My blood heated. “He is your friend. He is her friend. How long? How long have you been at this?”
“Lyra.” Emi drew closer. “You don’t understand.”
“I may have lived a sheltered life, but I know what lovers look like, Stav Nightlark.”
Emi’s shoulders slumped. “Let me explain.”
She would not get the chance. A knock sounded on the door and without an invitation to enter, it swung open.
“I figured we are all such boon companions that you will not mind if I see you in whatever state of dress you are in.” The prince—as if he knew we were quarreling over him—entered, his back facing us. “But all the same, I will give you time to dress if you prefer. Tell me when you’re decent.”
At his side Yrsa snickered. “They’re dressed. Though both look rather somber.”
Roark followed behind them. As anticipated, a silky calm coated the anger lashing through my chest. He met my gaze from across the room. One corner of his lips twitched into a smirk.
Until he saw the state of his cousin.
Thane turned to Emi. “What has you out of sorts, Emi?”
“Nothing,” I insisted and took a step for the prince. This was not the sort of thing I wanted to face. Not now.
Prince Thane’s smile faded. “What is it?”
I looked away, arms folded over my chest.
“If ever you question whether Lyra will stand on your side, Thane, you need not wonder. She will.” Emi mimicked my stance and held my glare. “She feels I’ve betrayed you greatly.”
“What are you doing?” The words hissed through my teeth.
Roark came to my side, one brow lifted in a silent query.
Emi opened her arms. “She saw me and Yrsa, and I’m convinced she’s considering stabbing me—”
“I am not.”
“I think she might. All to protect your feelings, my prince.”
“Ah.” The prince faced me in the same moment Roark turned away.
Was he smiling ?
“I had no plans to say anything. It was not my place. Wait.” I tilted my head. “Do you already know?”
“I do know.” Thane nodded. “I’ve known how Yrsa and Emi have felt about each other for seasons.”
I looked to Roark. The bastard was smiling.
“Lyra.” Thane came to me and put both palms on my shoulders. “I told you, Yrsa and I have known we would be wed since infancy. We became friends, but that does not always mean the romantic heart will ever take hold. It did for her and Emi. Who am I to stand in the way of them?”
“Why wed, then?”
Prince Thane scoffed. “If I refused, do you think King Hundur would allow his daughter to be with Emi merely because he learned she prefers women? No. She would be placed with another nobleman of Myrda, forced to bear his children, and be banned from Stonegate.”
By the gods, he was protecting her. Marrying her to let her be free.
A gentle touch came to the back of my arm. Roark leaned close and spoke in soft gestures. They protect each other. Understand why few can know?
I nodded, feeling utterly foolish.
“I love Thane,” Yrsa said. “But we knew we would never be in love with each other. Like he has let me follow my heart, I will always do the same for him.”
They could fall in love with others, but never be allowed to truly claim the ones in their hearts. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Thane flashed his roguish grin. “We are happy, which is much more than I can say for many arranged marriages. You might have seen some in these very walls that look truly miserable.”
Yrsa chuckled and nudged his ribs.
“What about heirs?” It was customary if a royal bride did not bear children within the first three full seasons, her husband would be given a new bride. “She will face the same trouble soon enough.”
Thane cleared his throat. “We’ve spoken of it many times. We will do what we must do.”
“Prince Thane is safety to me, Melder Bien,” Yrsa said. “He is a friend I will always trust, even if it is with my body.”
“I like to think I would make a decent father too.”
“You will.” Yrsa snickered, but sobered when she looked back at me. “I will be honored to be his wife. I will be honored to watch him fall in love with another as I have. I only hope she will be as understanding to our situation as Emi.”
The prince kissed Yrsa’s knuckles.
“Now that all this has been cleared, may we get on with the feast?” Emi’s face softened.
I glanced to the floor. “Forgive me for assuming.”
“Nothing to forgive. It is reassuring to know you care for the prince.”
“It is.” Prince Thane strode past, Yrsa still linked to his arm, but he patted Roark on the side of the face as he went. “How do you feel knowing I’ve won her over?”
I’d learned enough of Roark’s vulgar gestures to know he leveled no less than three at the prince.
Thane simply laughed and escorted both Emi and Yrsa from the room.
I looked at the Sentry. “Next time your cousin is a princess’s lover, tell me.”
Roark took my hand and squeezed it twice. I did not think you would be so nosy to deem it necessary .
“I am not nosy. I happened to stumble upon them and have been torn over what to do all afternoon, I’ll have you know.”
A short gasp broke free when Roark had my back to the wall in the next breath. The others had rounded the corner, but alone in the corridor, the Sentry made a hard cage over me.
His fingers traced the line of my jaw before forming his words. I could help with the distress .
I’d be wise to heed Kael’s warnings, be wise not to let up my heart so easily. I should’ve done all that before Roark’s damn fingertips traced the neckline of my gown. An ache gathered in my chest and spread lower in my belly when Roark brushed his palm over the swell of one breast.
“How would you do that?”
Wickedness burned in the gold of his eyes. On my knees with a kiss . His palm slid over my hip.
I dug my hands into the wall, feigning indifference. “I’ve had your kiss. Not certain it would be enough.”
Not here . Roark touched my lips with his. His other hand glided down my thigh, toward the inner leg. I jolted when he paused over the apex between my thighs. On instinct, I widened my stance, wanting him to touch me deeper. Roark’s fingers brushed over my skirt, adding pressure to my core. My breath caught when I looked down to see him forming a single word.
Here .
Damn the gods. My breaths came too swift, too heavy. His silent words bled into my pores until they pulsed the ache to the lowest part of my belly.
Roark grinned, like he knew exactly how easily he’d found the loose thread, tugged, and unraveled me.
He stepped back, one hand in front of us. Later, of course. We’re needed at the feast .
The feast. More crowds. More simple chatter. More folk wanting claws like Hundur.
More. More. More.
In this moment, all I wanted more of was the Sentry and his wicked, silent mouth.