Chapter 31
Isca
The moment I returned to my apartment that evening, I fell immediately into a deep sleep. When I startled awake, it was still the middle of the night. My room was dark and silent but for the slow crackle of dying embers in the hearth.
I was groggy, mouth dry, limbs aching with the kind of fatigue caused by not resting enough after using too much magic.
Since I’d only eaten lunch the day before, Catrin had kept her promise to bring me food. The untouched dinner plate she’d left was now cold on the table. I nibbled a few bites of bread and cheese, more to settle my stomach than anything else.
I wanted to return to sleep but my mind was abuzz with the memories and sensations of the past two days.
Being in front of so many people on display.
My big show of magic for the audience, the little displays for the children.
Nisien’s kiss and the performance he’d dragged me into.
The fact that Emrys had likely seen all of it.
It was enough to keep me awake…if I didn’t find something to distract me.
The library, with its towering shelves and quietude, beckoned to me, promising solace and enough words to lull me back to sleep.
I dressed hastily in a soft daygown, not bothering with shoes, and left my hair unbound. Surely no one would be awake at this hour to see me. I brought Tegil’s wooden osprey along with me because I thought he’d rather enjoy the idea of sneaking out in the middle of the night.
The flame of my candle caught the silvery flecks in the stone as I traveled through the corridors on silent feet.
I’d only left my room once at night—that first night when I’d used magic on Emrys through the door.
I’d been too timid to try to explore the castle by candlelight up to this point, so I didn’t expect to see a pair of watching eyes at the end of the hall.
Nor did I expect to see several more on my journey.
Each guard inclined his head in a silent greeting as I passed, though their eyes never reached my face.
No questions, only some curiosity emanated from them. It was as if my wandering presence in the heart of the keep after midnight was entirely ordinary. Like they’d been told to expect me, to watch me.
It was warmer inside the library than expected—a servant must’ve forgotten to bank the fire before retiring—but the scent of parchment and aged ink greeted me like an old friend.
I wandered the shelves slowly, brushing my fingers over the spines until I found an epic tale made lyrical. The rhythm and structure would work like nothing else to allow my mind to settle into rest.
I brought the book to the table with the embroidered chairs and made myself comfortable.
Even after being here for over a month, it still felt strange that I was probably sitting in the queen’s chair right now.
Sleeping in her quarters. Was that the Assembly’s doing?
Had they requested it, not-so-subtly messaging their desires?
Or was it simply the only place they could imagine placing a rare female political representative?
Now I was even wearing her jewelry.
I set Tegil’s osprey on the table next to one of the granite chunks. Then I reached into the neckline of my dress and pulled out the letter I’d read too many times already.
Chancellor Maeron’s hand was unmistakable: precise and always careful. Good work. Your ability to soothe Emrys is promising. Focus your efforts on him… But keep what you have growing with Nisien. Your family will receive a small bonus.
My throat tightened.
Except everything I’d had growing with Nisien was surely dead now. And Emrys would barely look me in the eye when he wasn’t growling.
The letter might as well have been scrawled in blood. Neither prince had asked to be used, but I found myself with little choice but to consider it at this point. The thought nauseated me.
I crossed the room to the hearth. With a poker clasped in shaking fingers, I stirred the embers and fed in a piece of shaved wood to coax a flame.
Without giving myself time to hesitate, I dropped the letter into the fire and watched as it curled black at the edges.
The flames licked upward, greedy and bright, devouring my inked orders as though they’d been waiting for them all along.
A wave of dizziness hit me. I couldn’t discern whether my fatigue stemmed from my magic use, from the emotional toll of the day, or even from the last few weeks. I braced a hand against the hearthstone until the world steadied.
The warmth of the stirred fire heated my skin, but something colder brushed the edge of my awareness from behind.
Emrys.
The fire. I should’ve realized. The servants must’ve kept the fire burning because he haunted the space while the rest of us slept.
I hadn’t heard his steps. Hadn’t felt the echo of his magic until he was too close. He was clamped down tight—nothing for me to read. Even now, as he stood half-shadowed in the archway, all he presented was a dark shape.
Still as a statue, he finally moved his head, and his face caught the firelight.
Emrys’s eyes drank in every detail as he looked at me, head slightly cocked. It was as if he was trying to make sense of the image I presented.
I gestured toward the table, the movement casual though my heart thudded in my chest. “Had trouble sleeping,” I said with forced lightness. “I hoped reading could help me relax.”
A flicker of something passed over his face. His lips curved slightly, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
He crept toward the book. Something about his movements made me nervous, though I couldn’t have said why. There was no overt threat in him. But beneath the surface, a restless energy simmered.
He glanced down at the book I’d been pretending to read then he looked back at me. As he got closer, I saw that it wasn’t only his movements but also his gaze that held that uniquely wild quality usually reserved for creatures caught in a trap. That was what was setting me on edge.
My eyes followed his to Tegil’s osprey. My brother had said I was adaptable, just like those great birds. He’d said they dove into the depths, made a huge splash, and always rose from them victorious.
I’d just destroyed my orders. Burned them like they were trash. I wouldn’t let Emrys—let anyone—intimidate me into being anything less than what Tegil thought me to be. I steeled myself for whatever challenge or insult the curse was about to throw at me.
He stepped forward. Once. Twice. He didn’t move like a man. Slow, deliberate, and silent as a drawn blade, he made my skin prickle. His breathing was even, unnervingly so for the intensity of his stare, like he was anticipating something.
By the third step, I found myself with my back to a panel between two shelves, the polished wood gently pressing into my spine. I should’ve been panicking, but Emrys’s presence always seemed to cloud my judgment.
His arms came up, bracing against the wall on either side, caging me in. He didn’t touch me, but he was so close I could feel the heat radiating off every inch of his skin.
This proximity, his heat, turned my brain into an egg set to fry.
He leaned in slightly. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, smooth rumble, yet somehow still brittle. “Lavender,” he said, the tone holding too much meaning for a simple flower. “Did you put that on for Nisien?”
I flinched—whether from the sound or the question didn’t matter. My pulse jumped as my hand rose, pressed lightly to his chest. I convinced myself it was to shove, but really it was an excuse to touch him. “No. Move.”
The words were right, exactly what I should say, but there wasn’t an ounce of conviction in them.
Gods, what was I doing?
No, what was he doing? Since I’d arrived, he’d been ignoring me or running away, without fail. Now, he was inches away from my face, his breath warm on my skin, looking into my eyes like I was…something.
Emrys didn’t move at my soft push. If anything, he leaned closer.
“I saw you kiss him,” he said, voice quiet but edged with suppressed bitterness. “Made me wonder if I’d walked into a late-night rendezvous.” His hand flexed once against the wall like he wanted to pull back but couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“No rendezvous,” I hissed, trying but failing to force my hand to move from his chest. “For one, why would we meet in the library when his rooms are right down the hall from mine?”
“So, you’ve been in his rooms?” The question was an accusation.
I squinted, anger simmering. “No.”
But I have thought of being in yours.
His mouth twitched, something like a hollow laugh ghosting out between his teeth. “You don’t have to play coy. I know why Maeron sent you.”
My spine went rigid. He knew. He knew.
But how much did he know? And the way he said it…the hasty, pointed words felt like he was throwing spears in the dark, hoping one would hit squarely on the truth.
"It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. Maeron never sends anyone without an angle." His eyes pinned me in place, though I couldn’t quite meet them. “Nisien hasn’t figured it out yet. But then, he’s always been too trusting.”
Was he just pushing to see if I’d confess my guilt? My stomach twisted itself into knots at the same time as my hand itched to move on his chest. Gods, what kind of person did that make me?
This close to Emrys, an untamed energy pulled me toward him. I worried about my morals for half a heartbeat before my hands lost the fight and moved, gently exploring the hard planes of his shoulders. I’d never been so bold in my life, but something about him pushed me to try for what I wanted.
His body was unyielding beneath my touch, all firm muscle and barely coiled tension. Against my better judgement, I wanted to know what it would be like to kiss him.
His gaze darted between my face and my hands on his shoulders, as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Neither could I.