Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Nova
I opened my eyes to find myself back in my room at the palace. It was early morning, judging by the light filtering in through the window—which meant at least another day had passed.
Had it been longer?
How much time had I lost?
Phantom lay on top of my legs, the way he always used to when I was ill, letting out a soft cry every time I restlessly changed positions. My head throbbed. My hands tingled. My arms were covered in faint, shadow-like bruises, and my mouth was so dry it hurt to swallow…but, otherwise, I seemed intact.
It took a few attempts, but eventually I managed to shift out from under Phantom’s weight and sit up, at which point I noticed my brother slouched in a chair in the corner of the room, his face resting against one of his hands. I thought he was asleep until he jerked his head up at the sound of Phantom repositioning himself on the bed.
We stared at one another without speaking for a long, uncomfortable moment; it felt as if we were strangers all over again.
I sat up further, leaning against the upholstered headboard, trying to recall my last moments before I’d fainted. Trying to find something to say about the mission to Graykeep, a scene that was coming back to me in bits and pieces—but the details of it all were foggy, at best.
I fixed my gaze on his. “…I don’t remember falling asleep, or much of what came before. What happened?”
He swallowed hard, emotion shimmering in his eyes. “I made a mistake.”
“…A mistake?”
He came closer, settling on the edge of the bed. After a brief hesitation, he told me all that had happened—the warriors I’d brought to life, the pendant shattering, the swarm that had converged around me, the fight Aleksander had put up to get to me.
The way he wished he’d told me to stop before the situation had turned dangerous.
“Desperation is not an excuse.” He exhaled a long, shuddering breath. “But I’m afraid it’s the only one I have. I’m sorry, Nova.”
The silence stretched on as I searched for the right response to this—if one existed. “I’m sorry, too,” I said, tilting my head back to stare at the coffered ceiling. “I thought I’d be able to do more. How many of those warriors did I revive in the end?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it does.”
“You did more than enough,” he insisted. “You were brilliant.”
I snorted. “You sound like Eamon. If one more person insists I’m brilliant while the world around us continues to crumble, I might scream.”
He took my hand, gently lifting and turning it to better examine one of the bruises along my forearm. “It wasn’t fair of me to ask you to hold up so much of that world on your own.”
I started to argue, but found I didn’t have the energy—or the right words—for it.
“You did enough,” he repeated. “And again…I’m sorry.”
I pulled my hand from his, wrapping my arms around myself, trying not to wince at the pain even this slight pressure caused. “It’s fine. Well, it’s not fine . But it’s the situation we’re in, isn’t it? It’s not as though you had a lot of other options.”
He sighed.
I went back to counting ceiling tiles.
After a long, uncomfortable silence, he said, “It doesn’t make up for all that happened, but I was thinking…you should take the rest of the day off from training and dealing with the pressures of this palace.”
I lowered my gaze back to his, my interest piqued.
“We have an important gathering happening here the day after tomorrow; I haven’t said anything about it before now because I didn’t think it would actually happen—I assumed the invitations I sent would go unanswered. But at least some of the leaders from what’s left of our world have answered the call; they’ll be joining us to discuss the upcoming Equinox. And to meet you, of course.”
My heart skipped several beats, but I kept my face impassive.
“You should go into town and buy whatever you’d like to wear to this meeting. It will be good for the people of Tarnath to see you, anyway—with escorts, of course.”
“I don’t need the palace guards to escort me anywhere.”
“You can’t go alone.”
“Aleksander will go with me.”
He stood, walking over to the dresser and fidgeting with the tray of food and drink in the center of it. He poured himself a glass of water from the silver pitcher but didn’t drink any of it, merely clutched it tightly in his hand as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin.
I cleared my throat. “If he’s willing to punch you on my behalf, imagine what he’d be willing to do to any average person who might threaten me.”
“…A fair point,” Bastian conceded with a wry smile. “And something tells me he would have done a lot worse to get to you. So I’m considering myself lucky.” He carefully touched his swollen nose and took a long, slow sip of his drink, considering. “The two of you together, then. But there will be guards, as well—I’ll command them to keep a respectable distance.”
The thought of them at any distance was suffocating. But I’d seen very little of Tarnath since my arrival, and the idea of a relatively normal stroll through a city was undeniably tempting, so I agreed to these terms with little fuss.
We sat for a little longer, chatting mostly about the upcoming meeting with our world’s leaders. Servants flittered in and out, bringing more trays of food and drink, trying to coax me into eating it. I struggled with this; I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so little interest in food.
Once I’d finally managed to eat enough to relieve my brother’s concern, he stood and grabbed his coat from the chair in the corner before turning to leave.
“Enjoy the evening,” he said, glancing back at me one last time as he adjusted the sleeves of his coat, “but promise me you’ll keep your eyes open and your guard up. I am not the only desperate person in this city.”
A few hours later, I had regained enough energy to prepare for my outing, and so, with the help of two maids, I bathed, pulled a pile of garments from the closet, and began to get dressed.
Some days ago, I’d casually mentioned to Aveline that my favorite color was orange. Unsurprisingly, a beautiful gown that heavily featured the shade had shown up in my wardrobe soon after; this seemed like the perfect opportunity to wear it.
While the maids worked to tame my hair into a half-updo, I stood before a large mirror, admiring the dress and fighting the urge to twirl in it. The main body was a warm shade of ivory, flaring out into a feathery sort of fabric at my hips. The skirt fell in various, lightweight layers, a mixture of ivory and a brilliant cascade of orange that shifted from a pale, golden amber shade near the waist to a darker, fiery shade toward the hem. It was somehow both delicate and intense, as though woven from the first rays of morning sunlight. The sleeves were long and sheer, almost weightless, like gossamer wings resting on my shoulders.
My hair was soon finished, the top half swept back and gathered at the crown, where it was loosely pinned with delicate golden combs, while the bottom half fell in large, loose waves—a perfect blend of elegance and ease.
The bruises caused by my magic were mostly faded. What hadn’t faded had been artfully disguised with subtle swirls of golden paint, complimenting the shimmering powder on my eyelids. The artistic swirls were courtesy of Brynn, who had appeared in hopes of playing with Phantom, and had instead gotten distracted by the vast array of cosmetics strewn across my vanity. She was a surprisingly talented artist, given her age.
At last, the collaborative effort was finished, and I was allowed to give the dress a proper twirl. It seemed to take on a life of its own as I did so, its layers floating gracefully, its fabric shimmering and gleaming like sunlight caressing water.
“The very picture of elegance and fire,” said Sylvia, Aveline’s niece, clapping her hands together in delight. “You look lovely.”
“Beyond lovely,” said Aeris, the one responsible for my hair.
I thanked them all as I slipped on a comfortable pair of flats, ivory in color with subtly shimmering embroidery on them. They filed out, giggling amongst themselves. Phantom went with them, shifting into a large enough dog that Brynn was able to ride on his back.
“Be careful with her,” I called.
( I’m always careful ,) he retorted.
No less than five seconds later, the sound of her squeals—half terrified, half delighted—echoed from the hallway.
I sighed but let them be, checking my reflection one last time in the mirror before heading out the door myself. On my way out, I caught sight of the tonic Aveline had left on my nightstand. After a moment of deliberation, I swallowed it in a few gulps. Just in case.
The strange burning sensation the tonic caused in my chest distracted me as I left the room; I nearly ran into Thalia as a result. We shared a moment similar to the one my brother and I had shared when I’d first woken up—an uncomfortable, uncertain moment where I had to remind myself that we were not strangers, even though the space between us felt as if it had widened.
Then she surprised me by blurting out an apology.
“…I’m fine, really,” I insisted, having no desire to repeat the awkward conversation I’d shared with my brother.
“Bastian told me he already apologized,” she pressed, “but you should know that I was the one who was urging him to keep pushing you. So I owe you an apology, as well. Perhaps even more-so than him.”
“There’s no need for it. I agreed to the risks involved with the mission; it isn’t as though either of you physically forced me into it.”
She took a step closer, her expression pinched with concern. Then she surprised me again—this time by wrapping me in a quick hug. She let go of me almost immediately; I might have been offended by the brevity of it if it had been anybody but her.
I gave her a crooked little smile. “That was difficult for you, wasn’t it?”
“I don’t like touching people. Or being touched.” She shrugged, but the motion seemed heavy despite her indifferent tone.
I couldn’t help wondering if she might have felt differently, had her father been around to embrace her when she was growing up. A smaller tragedy in the greater wars surrounding us, maybe, but it still hurt to think of it.
“Let’s create a signal instead, then.” She looked at me like I was babbling nonsense, but I continued: “Next time a situation calls for an embrace, we’ll just do…this, instead.” I placed my hand flat over my heart and patted twice.
Her brows lifted, half skeptical, half amused. “ If we find ourselves in another situation where I feel the need to embrace you, then I suppose I can manage that.”
“It’s settled, then.”
We both smiled, something like warmth budding between us. “Be careful in the city,” she said.
“I will,” I said, tapping my hand against my heart.
She rolled her eyes at my liberal use of our new signal, but smiled and returned the gesture before walking away.
I’d sent a messenger to Aleks soon after receiving my brother’s blessing to do so, asking him to escort me into the city when evening rolled around. And as I made my way to our meeting point, a quiet, insecure part of me considered what I would do if he didn’t show up. It seemed silly, given all the other, far more questionable horrors he’d accompanied me to over these past weeks—an evening in the city hardly seemed like an extravagant ask.
But I’d been ignored and overlooked so often in my lifetime, my old insecurities still clung to me despite my best efforts to wield logic against them.
He showed up, though.
Early, in fact—he was already in the palace entryway, waiting for me.
At the top of the stairs overlooking that entry, I remained unnoticed, so I paused to take him in. He sat on a marble bench, reclining with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. The pose made me think of the first time I’d seen him in this world, of all that had happened since that moment, and of how much had changed.
How had so much changed?
The last light of the day filtered in from the high windows, casting him in a soft, glowing gold. He was beautiful beyond the point of fairness, really—a statue carved to worship the human body.
He stood up. I inhaled too sharply in response, drawing his gaze. He went almost perfectly still as he spotted me, only his eyes moving, taking me in as I made my way down to him.
As I approached, I lifted the skirts of my dress and gave them a little flounce. “It’s a stunning dress, isn’t it?”
He eased back into his usual confident, relaxed stance, his gaze traveling the length of my body, admiring every dip and curve before settling on my face. “I hardly noticed the dress.”
I couldn’t stop the heat that flooded my cheeks.
“The night is young,” he said in a low voice dripping with amusement, “and I already have you blushing.”
I avoided meeting his gaze—though dropping my eyes to his body wasn’t much better.
His attire was effortlessly regal, blending comfort with understated elegance. His fitted tunic of soft white linen, draping gracefully over his broad shoulders, was embroidered with subtle silver thread along the collar and cuffs. He’d paired it with grey trousers, perfectly tailored to his lean yet muscular frame and tucked into polished boots. One hand was shoved into his pocket, a coat hanging casually in the crook of his arm.
His other hand curved around my side, steadying me and drawing me closer in the same motion. Warmth spread from beneath his touch, settling in all my most sensitive places, and already I was considering canceling our plans in favor of dragging him up to my bedroom instead.
I sensed people gathering nearby, staring in our direction.
I took a step back to gather myself.
Aleks laughed softly. “Are you going to be able to keep your queenly composure in my company this evening?”
I smoothed a non-existent wrinkle from my dress. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”
“No?”
“I know your tricks at this point—I can guard myself against them.”
He grinned a lazy grin that accented his dimples. “All of them?”
“I can’t be flustered by you.”
“That sounds like a challenge, my dear Chaos.”
“Shall we bet on it?”
“Only if I get to name my prize for whenever I inevitably win.”
My core clenched, my mind circling back to the last time he’d claimed his prize .
Before I could answer him, we were joined by the guards my brother had insisted on.
“Our chaperones have arrived in full force,” Aleks said under his breath, “we’ll really have to be on our best behavior, won’t we?” The devious gleam in his eyes suggested he had no intention of doing anything of the sort.
Already trying to fluster me , I realized.
I guarded myself against another twinge of desire and presented my arm to him. “Let’s go, escort.”
He let out another quiet laugh at my business-like tone, hooking his arm through mine.