Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Aleksander
We made it back to the Rivenholt Palace unscathed.
But three days later, we were still moving in dazed circles, still trying to pull ourselves together after all we’d endured in the Above.
The shard of Lorien’s soul had been locked away for safekeeping in a vault beneath the palace. It helped me regain some semblance of control, not having to feel its constant pull—a small mercy.
My magic still seemed confused, though. Restless. It twisted beneath my skin like a caged, unpredictable animal, growing especially uneasy when confronted with Nova’s shadows. Close proximity to Grimnor made it doubly worse.
It made me sick to admit it, but the dynamic between our magic was undoubtedly shifting in ways I couldn’t explain.
She continued to train with Eamon and pushed her own abilities further each day. The stronger her magic became, the more the wrongness of mine seemed to intensify. It was reaching a point where I found myself questioning if she’d be better off if I kept my distance, hard as that was to do.
We’d barely spoken these past few days, although we did quietly find our way back to one another most evenings.
We sat together while we studied maps and reports in weighted silence.
I would recline on her bed while she played the violin I’d given her—one of the few things that still managed to calm her agitated mind.
I listened while she vented her frustrations and fears.
I made sure she ate something before bed, and I held her while she fell asleep.
It was a delicate dance. We were surviving, but the time we spent apart during the day was still creating a chasm between us.
Too many things were going unsaid. The mental, magical bond we’d briefly shared was fraying.
And my questions about what she discussed in her private council meetings largely went unanswered.
Boring political things, she assured me.
But she had always told me every detail, boring or not, in the past. And, judging by the way some of her allies and advisors looked at me, I suspected there were other conversations happening.
Maybe it was mere paranoia, but it seemed like Nova knew something I didn’t about the corruption of my magic—like there was something she wasn’t telling me.
Something they all weren’t telling me.
And I hadn’t missed the glimmer of fear that occasionally flashed in her eyes when she glanced my way, particularly when she thought I wasn’t looking. The same fear I’d seen the night we’d fought those Order members, when my magic had clearly unbalanced her.
Of course, I couldn’t blame her for that fear.
Not when I could barely trust myself anymore.
Last night, for the first time since we’d reunited, I’d slept in my own room, alone. Although very little sleeping had occurred; I’d tossed and turned for most of the night, trying to keep the unsteady surges of my magic at bay, all while replaying Severin’s haunting words over and over in my mind.
You can’t protect her.
You aren’t meant to protect her.
The worst of my unstable tremors had subsided by the time I woke up, but I still avoided Nova for most of the day. It was simpler. Safer. At least until I could understand what was happening with me.
I wandered outside of the palace for most of the morning and afternoon, only making my way back as the sickly orb that passed for a sun in this world began its descent toward the horizon.
Even then, I didn’t go anywhere near Nova’s chambers, or the office where she spent many evenings holding meetings.
Instead, I made my way to the training grounds; the familiar rhythm of combat drills was soothing.
Zayn joined me after a while. We sparred without really speaking, our blades clashing in the fading light.
He could clearly sense something was wrong, but for maybe the first time in his life, he managed to stay silent.
Because what was there to say?
It felt like we were living in the shadow of a slowly-approaching catastrophe, like acknowledging it out loud would only bring it crashing down more quickly upon us.
After Zayn left, I returned my sword to the adjacent armory, lingering there instead of heading back into the palace proper. Severin’s words snaked through my mind, yet again, as I moved restlessly through the room, running my fingers over the other weapons on display.
I’d been there for several minutes, moving in aimless circles, when my magic suddenly stirred with awareness.
I turned to find Nova standing in the doorway, her figure backlit by the setting sun.
She wore a sapphire dress with delicate silver embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. Simple and elegant, but she was still marked by the symbols of her noble position as well—by a brooch featuring a silver tree with red blossoms, and a small silver circlet resting in her dark hair.
I wondered what boring political things she’d been getting up to today, but I didn’t ask. I could tell she was tired enough without my pressing.
“You managed to escape your council earlier than usual, I see.”
“I had to.” She stepped farther into the room, the soft rustle of her dress the only sound in the armory’s stillness.
I placed the sword I’d been examining back on its rack.
She closed the distance between us slowly. There was the tiniest hint of fear, of uncertainty in her expression, even as she met my gaze. “I had to get away from all of them, and I just…” She shrugged. “I missed you.”
The words settled uneasily over me. I’d been avoiding her to make things easier for her. Safer. But now it felt as if I’d let her down.
Damned if I did, damned if I didn’t.
She picked up a dagger from the table, turning it over in her hands. A minute passed. Then another. She gripped the weapon tightly and said, “Something has shifted between us, hasn’t it?”
The obvious answer was yes, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. To say anything.
“I’ve had a lot to think about and deal with over the past days,” she continued at my silence. “And I keep coming back to what happened during that last battle.”
I tensed.
She took a deep breath, setting the dagger down carefully. “That man who led the Order’s attack outside of Finch’s house…he knew your name. He said he’d be looking forward to your next meeting.” She lifted her gaze to mine. Like she wanted an explanation.
I didn’t have one.
I’d spent the past days trying to remember anything and everything I could about Severin Thane and the Void Order. About my younger years, so full of gaps and fragmented memories that refused to coalesce into anything clear or useful.
Nova continued to watch me with careful, assessing eyes.
“He seemed…familiar,” I admitted. “Though I don’t know why.”
She nodded as though she’d expected this answer, hugging her arms around herself, brow wrinkling in thought.
She was quiet for several minutes, and I found myself staring at her again, memorizing the way the waning daylight caught in her hair, turning the strands almost copper where the sun touched them.
“Our magic was balanced before,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “Now it isn’t.”
The words hung in the air, taunting us. Daring us to try and make sense of them.
I didn’t want to keep secrets from her. I never did. I’d spent most of my life keeping things locked inside. Emotions. Doubts. Pain. Whatever I had to suppress so I could survive. But she had always had a way of pulling all of my buried things—even the frightening things—back into the light.
So I tried to explain the shift in my magic. Its sudden wrongness, and the way it felt like it was lying in wait for hers, oddly eager to devour any shadow she manifested.
After I’d finished, she didn’t reply right away. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken implications. When she finally spoke, her voice was small, almost fragile. Not like her at all.
“And when you’re near me?” she asked. “Does it get worse?”
I hesitated, but there was no point in lying. “Yes.”
She closed her eyes against the words. A shudder went through her—another tremor of fear, barely suppressed. The sight of it cut deeper than any blade could have, and the words that followed were even worse: “Do you want me to leave?”
I exhaled slowly, shaking my head. “I never want you to leave.”
She stepped closer, close enough that I could see the exhaustion etched into the fine lines around her eyes, the grief still lingering from all she’d lost over the past days.
“How can I help you?” she asked, softly.
The question caught me off-guard.
All the other things she was trying to endure…how could she possibly have any strength left to worry about helping me?
A surge of confusing emotions overcame me. Awe. Love. Guilt. But above all, I felt worthless, like I didn’t deserve her concern—given the way my magic had tried to hurt hers, the doubt I’d been feeling since we returned, and the seeds of distrust I’d been letting take root between us.
“You’re already helping, just by being here,” I told her.
She studied me for a moment. Then her lips quirked in a tired smile. “Well, that’s easy enough.”
I took her hand, pulling her even closer. “Just stay with me for a little while, then.” I stroked her hair, my fingers coming to rest on her jaw, tilting her face up to mine. “Ignore the politics. The magic. The Order—all of it.”
She curled more tightly against my chest. “Tempting.”
“Yes,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You are.”
She let out a noise somewhere between a soft laugh and a sigh. Her hands slid up my chest, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt. That touch, and the way she looked up at me through her lashes…
Tempting wasn’t a strong enough word for what she was, honestly.