Chapter 19
ROWAN
Dreams are dangerous things. You don’t make them. They make you.
Ma used to say that whenever she caught me staring too long out the apartment window back in Düren, lost somewhere inside my own head.
The memory slips through me unexpectedly now as I stand beneath the rooftop terrace archway watching rain blur the glowing shape of Sero below.
Thunder rolls softly somewhere beyond the city while gold lights shimmer through the storm like fractured stars.
Will she still say that after tonight?
A faint smile tugs at my mouth. Damaris recorded the performance. He’ll probably send it home before the night’s even over.
For a moment, I picture Ma watching it on her old multi-slate in our tiny apartment.
Will she be proud of me?
The thought lingers somewhere deep inside my chest as my mind drifts back to the concert, to those first nervous notes I always play before anything important.
I probably shouldn’t have used them on stage.
I’d already warmed up beforehand, but somehow the sequence still slips out whenever I’m nervous, my fingers finding it automatically even after all these years.
The sequence had barely left my fingers before I felt Angela Virel’s empty gaze find me from somewhere beyond the lights.
Then the memory shifts to the final note hanging beneath the vaulted ceiling while the entire room watched in complete silence. For one terrifying second, I thought I’d done something wrong before the applause finally broke across the hall.
Cold wind lashes against my face, chasing away the heat and noise of the hall below. Thunder rumbles somewhere beyond Caervast while rain drums softly against the stone.
Up here, at least, I can finally breathe.
The concert should have left me floating.
Instead, I can’t stop thinking about the man in black standing near the back of the hall.
The sight of him hit me with the same instinctive unease I’d felt outside my dorm weeks ago, my pulse spiking hard enough for my medical band to flash amber against my wrist before I even understood what was wrong.
Some part of me recognized him, even if I can’t remember why.
A shiver crawls unexpectedly down my spine.
Wake up.
The words flash through my head so suddenly that I blink. Then they’re gone.
I glance down at my wrist. The display is back to normal.
The sight usually reassures me, but not tonight.
I’ve spent half my life convincing myself those feelings mean nothing, that the shadows following me belong to old memories instead of real people.
Yet every time I catch sight of someone who feels familiar in all the wrong ways, my pulse reacts before my mind can make sense of it.
Below, the lights of the hall still glow through the rain. The last time I looked inside, Ciaran was standing beside his parents talking to Imperial Milanov Zephyranth and his son Helianth, surrounded by people who looked like they’d known each other their entire lives.
Unlike me.
I couldn’t even spot anyone from Düren in the room. Not a single familiar face. Not even our awful Imperial.
After the concert, I stood near the edge of the hall for a while, pretending to admire the architecture while guests drifted between tables and conversations I wasn’t part of.
Damaris had disappeared into a conversation with Lucan, and for the first time since arriving at Caervast, I found myself standing completely alone.
The stupid thing is that I should’ve been happy for him. Damaris has looked after me for years. He deserves friends. So if Lucan makes him smile, if he gives him something that belongs just to him, then I should be glad.
Instead, watching him laugh across the room, I felt something small and ugly twist in my chest. It can’t be jealousy. At least, I hope not.
He deserves people who choose him for once instead of expecting him to take care of everyone else.
So why does part of me still react like this?
Maybe because it’s easier to pretend I’ve outgrown that feeling than admit I never really did. The weak heart. The missing sister. The kid who always needed a little more help than everyone else. I’m tired of being that person.
Yet somehow, every time the ground shifts beneath my feet, that old fear finds me again.
Everyone seems to be finding a place here.
Damaris was laughing with Lucan. Ciaran was surrounded by people who belonged in that room. Nobody needed me standing awkwardly at the edge of the hall, pretending I fit in.
So I slipped away.
Now, I look up as storm clouds churn above the academy while the city below glows silver and gold beneath the rain. Somewhere far beneath the tower, traffic moves through the old streets while thunder rumbles softly in the distance.
I wrap my arms tighter around myself and stare out across the endless lights of Sero. The evening should feel over, but instead it feels like something has only just begun.
My multi-slate pings with a message.
Dama:
where the hell did u go
Me:
Roof. Needed some air.
Three dots appear almost immediately.
Dama:
u missed everything
it’s insane down here
Lucan keeps showing off and every time I think he’s introduced me to the most important person in the room somebody richer shows up
also there are like five girls trying to get Ciaran’s attention
My gaze drifts back toward the glowing windows below.
Welcome to Sero. I think I’d like a refund.
u okay?
I stare out across the rain-covered city for a moment before answering.
Mostly.
text me if something’s up boo x
The familiar concern behind the words makes something tighten in my chest. Always checking on me. Always making sure I’m all right. Sometimes I think people see my weak heart before they actually see me.
I will.
The conversation falls quiet after that.
For a while I just stand there beneath the archway watching the storm roll across Sero, thunder rumbling beyond the distant hills while rain blurs the city lights into streaks of silver and gold.
From up here, the city feels impossibly vast. Beyond its glow, other lights burn in the distance too, ships moving through the dark and planets hanging like scattered jewels against the night sky.
Sometimes I wish I could reach them. Just stretch up on my toes and grab hold of one, peek inside for a second and see what life looks like somewhere else.
Voices drift up from below, followed by the sound of people spilling out through the entrance beneath the terrace. I guess the party’s over.
Drawn by the noise, I drift closer to the edge and look down through the rain. Guests spill across the courtyard, laughing and talking as they make their way toward waiting vehicles.
Then my gaze catches on a line of expensive hover cars and bikes waiting near the entrance, automatically drifting toward the group of guys dressed in black leather.
My stomach clenches when I recognize Ciaran’s shiny black helmet with its reflective glass.
He’s already changed, completely dressed in black leather and sitting astride his bike with his booted feet planted firmly against the ground.
Good Light. How long have I been standing up here?
A girl in a blood-red dress and high heels sashays by and laughs at something he says. Only when I pull my hand back do I realize I've dug my nails hard enough into the stone wall for blood to trickle slowly down my palm.
Of course. Half the room was trying to get his attention all night, according to Dama.
One of the guys slaps the girl on the ass and she squeaks before sliding into his lap.
While the others get ready to leave, Ciaran pulls out his multi-slate and glances down at it.
Then, without warning, he looks up and stares directly at me.
With a start, I jerk back as my heart kicks hard against my ribs.
How the hell does he know where to look?
A few seconds later, my multi-slate pings with a message.
It’s from him.
i’m going out for a drink. did you want to join
I stare at the words, trying not to let them affect me.
He’s just toying with me. I know that. And yet my thumb drifts toward the reply field anyway.
after the performance you gave
The stupid thing is that those are the words that get me. Not little mouse. Not want you by my side. It’s the performance.
Because for all his flirting and games, that’s the part that feels real.
My fingers hover over the holo-pad while I debate whether answering would be a terrible idea or not when the old wooden door suddenly rattles behind me. I barely have time to look up before it yanks wide open.
Rain lashes through the doorway as I stare into the darkness beyond the staircase leading back inside the building.
Then a man steps out of the storm. He’s wearing a black suit, black gloves, and a dark mask that hides the upper half of his face. A narrow black baton hangs loosely from one hand, water dripping from its tip onto the terrace floor.
It’s him. I know it is. The man from before, from the reception, the man who was staring at me.
My entire body locks as recognition slams into me.
Wake up.
My heartbeat races. No! I want to shout. Not now!
I’m tired of being afraid, tired of being fragile. I’m tired of my own body betraying me.
But then our eyes meet, and he immediately starts forward, his pace quickening as he crosses the threshold. And for one horrible second, all I can think is run.
Panic crashes through me so fast I nearly stumble over my own feet as I scramble upright.
Good Light, I’m losing it.
The rooftop corridor blurs around me while my pulse pounds against my ribs, footsteps echoing somewhere behind me loud enough that panic surges even harder through my chest.
My multi-slate buzzes in my hand.
i’ll take that as a no
Below, engines roar to life one after another as the bikes and hover cars begin preparing to leave, the sound carrying through the storm.
then make sure that gorgeous ass of yours ends up back in my bed before i get home
Under any other circumstance, the message would probably make me blush. But right now it only makes me run faster.