Chapter 52
When I woke the next morning, he was already gone. The door to his bedchamber, across the hall from mine, stood slightly ajar. When I peeked inside, the bed was perfectly made, the sheets drawn taut enough that not a single wrinkle disturbed the linen.
Beside it, a large glass of water sat untouched on the bedside table, a folded piece of parchment propped against it.
Curiosity got the better of me. I slipped inside, noting as I crossed the room that his blades were all gone. I picked up the note and unfolded it.
Gone “sightseeing”. For your headache.
I didn't realize I was smiling until I lifted the glass to my lips.
My eyes lingered on his cramped, slanted scrawl. He'd left me a message, never questioning whether I'd be able to read it. Somehow, that unspoken faith warmed something deep inside my chest.
I took another sip of water before it dawned on me that he'd left the note in his bedroom instead of the sitting room. Which meant he'd anticipated I’d come snooping through his things the moment he was gone.
Even without dreamwalking, he read me with infuriating accuracy.
The servants arrived shortly after with carts laden with smoked fish, fluffy scrambled eggs, and fruit that gleamed like cut jewels.
Every time I reached for something, someone was already there—pouring my tea, buttering my toast, replenishing my plate.
By the time I'd finished eating and set aside my embroidered napkin, the same servant with the bronze collar who'd helped me dress the day before stepped forward.
In her thick, musical accent, she informed me that Thalassis was waiting to receive me in the observatory before leading me back to my room.
She crossed to the wardrobe, her gaze thoughtfully skimming over the dresses there before settling on one the blue of cornflowers.
The skirts skimmed my ankles in loose, flowing folds, while a gold-embroidered cord drew in the waist. She brushed my hair until it gleamed, leaving the dark waves loose over my shoulders before pinning one side back with a delicate seashell.
While she knelt to lace the sandals, the leather straps winding in neat crisscrosses up my calves, my gaze caught on my reflection in the mirror.
The soft blue suited me, the gold cord drew in my waist, and my loose hair framed my face in effortless waves. I looked lovely.
And strangely vulnerable.
My gaze settled on the bone knife lying atop the side table.
"Could I have a moment?" I asked.
Once the servant had gone, I hitched up my skirts and buckled the sheath high against my thigh, tightening the straps until the knife sat secure. Hidden beneath the folds of fabric, it disappeared from sight.
Smoothing my dress back into place, I slipped from the room after her.
She led me through the palace, pausing only to bow low whenever we passed a noble or courtier, until at last we reached an open chamber where a spiral staircase curved upward along one wall.
As we climbed, I found myself thinking of Solmire—of the winding stairs leading to the Aethereum. I wondered if Firstborn hands had shaped this place as well.
The moment the servant opened the door at the top, I knew without a doubt they had.
The observatory shared the same graceful proportions as the dome in Solmire, only here it had been fashioned from crystal-clear glass rather than stone.
Light filtered through it, bathing my skin in watery blue hues.
At its center, an enormous starburst mosaic stretched across the floor, nearly identical to the one in the Aethereum.
For one disorienting heartbeat, I was back in Solmire—the cold tiles biting into my back, Aedric's heat between my thighs, snow drifting lazily down to settle around us. We’d lain there afterward, our fingers entwined, while he whispered things I'd believed with every foolish piece of my heart.
An ache bloomed beneath my ribs.
I dragged my thoughts back to the present before they could carry me any deeper and forced myself to take in the observatory around me.
Beyond the glass, Pelaga unfurled beneath the palace in breathtaking splendor—spires and bridges, broad avenues, lush aquatic gardens, and open plazas.
Schools of tiny fish darted past the dome, their scales flashing silver and sapphire as they caught the light.
High above, a great sea turtle glided unhurriedly across the glass, its immense silhouette casting a slow-moving shadow over the chamber.
Waiting for me at the far side of the room, arms thrown wide and his smile even wider, was Thalassis.
Even without the Ambrosia flooding my veins, he was spectacular.
He wore a loose tunic of midnight blue over flowing trousers, the front unlaced just enough to reveal the smooth skin of his chest. His long, slender braids had been tied back from his face, drawing attention to the square line of his jaw and the bright sparkle in his eyes.
“Elowen!” he boomed, striding toward me with arms already outstretched. He caught my hand, lifted it to his lips, and brushed a kiss across my knuckles before flashing me a knowing wink. “I trust the rest of your evening was... satisfying?”
I flushed. Thalassis, of course, meant Aedric.
But it wasn't Aedric who sprang to mind.
It was Rìan, standing behind me, deft fingers working open the row of tiny buttons at my back. The ghost of his knuckles brushing my skin. The quiet concentration on his face. The impossible tenderness of the moment.
It had been nothing. And yet, somehow, it hadn't.
“Yes,” I forced myself to say. “Your Ambrosia certainly had some interesting effects.”
“There are stronger vintages,” Thalassis said, straightening. “Ones that reduce people to little more than instinct. I prefer the subtler blends. They leave room for conversation, for music... for connection.” He spread his hands. “We had a delightful evening together, did we not?”
I inclined my head. “Very much so.”
Thalassis craned his head around me. “Where is Aedric now?”
“I left him in the guest suite. He was still resting.”
“Mm.” His smile was positively wicked. He offered me his arm. I took it, and he led me to the edge of the observatory, stopping before the great glass dome overlooking Pelaga.
“I must confess,” he said, “I was delighted when you suggested we spend the morning together. Aedric didn't seem nearly as enthusiastic.”
“Aedric is rather possessive when it comes to me.”
Thalassis's gaze was sharp despite the grin on his face. “As well he should be. You're a spectacularly beautiful female. And an Eidra bonded to the High Lord of Flame? The other Courts sleep a little less soundly because of it.”
Something in the way he said it unsettled me, but before I could ask what he meant, he waved an impatient hand.
“Politics is a dreadful way to begin the day.” His smile returned in full force. “Come. You asked to see my city.” He gestured toward the vast expanse beyond the glass.
“It truly is remarkable,” I admitted. “I didn't think anything like this could exist.”
“I thought we'd begin here,” he said. “Not only because the view is difficult to rival, but because I suspected you'd notice something familiar.”
He inclined his head, waiting.
“It reminds me of the Aethereum in Solmire.”
“Yes!” He clapped his hands together. “For good reason. Both were built by the Vaelorii—sun worshippers. You’ve heard of them, I imagine?”
“Yes—the skin shifters.”
“The very same.” His gaze rose to the glittering surface far above the dome.
“Ingenious creatures. They had a remarkable talent for building impossible things. When we finally drove them from Pelaga, we made certain they could never reclaim it. We drowned the city. The valleys, the forests, the mountains—everything. We remade the landscape beneath the sea, and the city became ours.”
I tore my eyes from the view to stare at him.
“You flooded an entire kingdom?”
“The alternatives were considerably less elegant.”
“How could anyone possibly accomplish something like that?”
He clasped his hands behind his back. “If I revealed all of Pelaga's secrets before lunch, I'd have no excuse to keep you a little longer.”
I smiled despite myself. “Who says you need an excuse?”
His grin returned in full force. “Well then,” he leaned closer. “Let us explore my city together.”
Thalassis spent the better part of the morning showing me the palace.
After the observatory, he led me through broad galleries lined with statues, vibrant paintings, and exquisitely carved relics salvaged from the drowned cities of the Vaelorii.
Each piece spoke of a people who had once flourished, of a culture rich in beauty, artistry, and history.
Unlike Solmire, where the only trace of those who’d come before remained in the architecture, Pelaga displayed the spoils of its conquest without shame.
From there we wandered through music rooms filled with instruments I'd never seen before.
Sheets of music lay open across polished stands, the pages covered in an intricate language of lines, dots, and curling symbols.
I paused, fascinated. It had never occurred to me that music itself could be written down, preserved for someone else to play centuries later.
It was an entirely different kind of literacy, one I hadn't even thought possible.
Finally, he brought me to the palace library.
The moment we crossed the threshold, the air changed.
Gone was the heavy humidity that hung throughout the rest of Pelaga.
Here it was cool, crisp, and perfectly dry, the shelves protected by unseen magic that kept the sea at bay.
Towering bookcases stretched in every direction, their shelves so tightly packed with leather-bound volumes that I scarcely knew where to look.