Chapter 12
Emrys
There she was. Not ten feet away, framed in the wreckage of my restraint, was the woman whose very existence I’d begun to question. A face that had begun to feel like a dream now stood in my hall.
By the cursed gods.
Her sudden presence was so shocking that the ice-cold grip of the curse around my magic slackened in an instant. Just like that day in the market, when her magic had brushed against mine and the storm inside me paused.
I could still feel the beast there, waiting in the background for release. Waiting for the next excuse. It shied away from her even as it clawed at the cage, wanting to be nearer.
This was Nisien’s fault. It even felt like a setup. But why?
He’d announced the arrival of another diplomatic envoy from Caervorn as if it were nothing more than a casual aside. He’d kept the news to himself until the caravan was literally at our doorstep then nonchalantly rode away. But he hadn’t mentioned her.
I wasn’t prepared. I hadn’t hardened myself. And the curse, agitated since leaving Caervorn, rushed to the surface the moment I allowed myself to look her in the eyes, threatening to break loose in ways it hadn’t since my time on a battlefield.
“Isca?” I said her given name without even thinking of how it would look to Nisien, to her.
How was she here?
As I stared, her presence filled me with a strange joy that utterly terrified me. The people closest to me were always the first to get hurt. How long until it was her? How long until she ran? What if I couldn’t control myself? What if I—
“Prince Emrys,” she greeted sedately.
It would’ve been better if she’d spat my name like a curse. Instead, her voice curled around me like a warm blanket.
She looked different. Her pale golden hair, still piled high in a crown atop her head, gleamed in the torchlight. Her skin was glowing with a healthy pink hue, a stark contrast to her previous pallid complexion. She looked…
I remembered to breathe.
She was dressed in elegance now, fine fabrics that draped like they’d been chosen to please a king. Those expensive clothes, plus what Nisien had said about needing to try with a mage… Her arrival had Maeron’s fingerprints all over it.
My gut twisted.
Nisien turned, one eyebrow slightly raised in my direction. Damn it.
I refused to answer his look now. I had to escape that room, to avoid her intense examination until I was calmer and less of a danger to everyone nearby.
I bowed, stiffly. Stupidly. “I need to—” I gestured at the splintered door, though my hand shook with the last of the curse’s tremors. “I need to attend to this immediately.”
It was pathetic. Transparent. But it was the only excuse I had. With her so near, I didn’t know what the monster would do. I wasn’t certain if it wanted to tear her apart or hold her and never let go.
I turned and left, not bothering to call for a servant. I ran through the halls like a scared boy. This feeling was too dangerous.
Because if I’d stayed, if I let myself take one more step toward her, I might’ve fallen to my knees.
I needed a cage of stone walls and silence. A locked iron door and no victims at hand when the beast broke through my control. I needed to escape the woman Fate had cruelly placed in my path, but the Assembly wanted in Nisien’s bed.
I slammed my fist into the nearest stone wall once I was alone, cracking it in two. The pain its own sort of release. Another door broken, another threshold I couldn’t cross.
Isca.