Chapter 45
He says nothing. Expects nothing. Merely holds me.
Never have I had someone like him—someone who wants nothing more than to comfort me. To be there for me.
Finally, Kaelis shifts, studying me. “Would you like to take dinner in my room tonight?” Out of everything I’d expected him to ask me, that was not it.
And my surprise must show on my face, because he lets out a slight laugh.
“I assume you are not going to head to the dining hall in this state and you should eat.”
“Please.”
We enter his bedroom, where Kaelis pulls a cord, ringing a bell.
By the time we step into the dining room, Rewina is already there.
I feel myself freeze as her eyes graze over me, and for a breath, I’m certain she knows who I am.
But I realize it’s all paranoia, as the look is there for no more than a second, and there is no recognition within it.
“Bring us whatever looks good in the kitchen for dinner,” he demands with his characteristic blend of unquestionable authority and casual indifference.
Rewina’s eyes flit between us, and in that fleeting glance I see the glimmer of disapproval, and perhaps curiosity, but she’s too well versed in Kaelis’s antics to let it linger—or ask any questions of the prince. With a bow of her head, she says nothing and leaves.
“Is this wise?” Even though I’m questioning him, I’m settling into my usual seat at the table.
His chambers, as always, have me falling into comfortable habits with little thought.
Here it becomes all too easy to pretend everything is normal, and I can’t decide if that’s what is saving me or distracting me.
“Rewina is the epitome of discretion. She’s seen women come and go for years.
” Kaelis claims his place at the head of the table, leaning forward with one arm braced against the polished wood.
The light of the sconces catches the sharp angles of his face, casting shadows across his features that flatter him so well.
“You invite random women to your chambers often?” I drum my fingers against the tabletop. He told me as much previously—the first night I was here, even. My jealousy and concern are feigned. But Kaelis doesn’t seem to pick up on that.
“For someone who is herself a ‘random woman’ in Rewina’s eyes, you seem surprisingly annoyed.
” He places his chin into his palm with an infuriating half smirk.
I roll my eyes. “Why did you come tonight?” Kaelis asks with a note of sincerity that’s impossible to dismiss.
It’s the voice of the man who just held me, not the arrogant prince or the coy lover I also know well.
“I’m wondering much the same.” The undeniably reversed card—Kaelis’s card—that Gregor gave me is a weight in my pocket. A dangerous secret. A cleaver hanging over the neck of all we are becoming.
“Did you have a mind to answer it?”
“Unsure.”
“I’m a patient man.” The way he says it sounds like a promise.
I glance his way without moving my head. It lets me catch only part of his expression. I think he also misses the disbelieving look I’m giving him, so I make sure to emphasize it with a dry tone. “You’re really not.”
He tsks with his tongue in disapproval, but there’s genuine amusement lurking beneath his words. “Distracting me with insults isn’t going to work this time.”
“So you admit it’s worked in the past?” I sit up a bit straighter, meeting his eyes properly, unable to help the tiny note of triumph that creeps into my words.
A simple smile is his response. We both know I haven’t answered his question: Why did you come?
“I—” I’m interrupted—no, saved, more like—by Rewina arriving again.
She glides in balancing a silver tray laden with meat and root vegetables in a delicious-smelling wine reduction that perfumes the air with herbs.
Placing it between us, she promptly departs, ever the vision of efficiency and discretion.
“You…?” Kaelis hardly looks at the food; his focus is still only on me.
I help myself to a serving of duck, ignoring him for a moment. The aroma has made me realize just how hungry I am. In all the chaos, I missed a meal today. It feels like I missed a lifetime of them. He patiently waits for me to eat.
“I found out the details of what happened to Arina.” I finally manage to get out the words after wiping my mouth.
The shift in him is immediate. He goes completely still. He saw firsthand the state Ravin had left her in. My hand balls into a fist, and I turn away from my food. Suddenly too disgusted to think of another bite.
“She told me how Ravin got to her, through Silas, here in the academy.” A truth that absolves Kaelis of any involvement in her capture and imprisonment. I had believed him before—at least, I told myself I did. But hearing it from Arina has removed all doubt.
Kaelis curses under his breath. “Silas…That sniveling worm.”
“Not Silas.” I stop him before he can ready too many insults to cast in the direction of my unlikely friend. Kaelis’s brows arch in surprise. “He…I know what Silas did. But he was also trying to survive for the sake of his family—Ravin captured and tortured them to make Silas do his bidding.”
“You’ll forgive a lot for someone trying to defend their family.” He slowly looks me up and down with a stare that is both appreciative and wary.
“You can hardly be surprised.” The words come out more defensive than intended.
“I suppose I’m not, given what you’ve done for those you deem your family.
” Kaelis shifts, knees spreading slightly, long fingers draping over his armrest. Something about the movement stops me short.
He looks like a king. So effortless and easy.
“Do be careful with that, though. It presents a weakness that could be easily exploited.”
“I know.” I run a hand through my hair. It’s not that I’m unaware of the dangers that this trait of mine poses.
But there are some things that I can’t change about myself, despite knowing I should probably try to.
Some things, if I’m honest, that I refuse to change.
My love for my family is perhaps the one truly immutable thing about me.
If it’s ultimately my undoing, then so be it.
“So you came to me because you heard, from Arina, what happened to her?”
I nod, and the card fragment feels even heavier. Tell him. Ask him, I scream at myself even as he speaks.
“Should I take this to mean you finally no longer doubt me? That you believe I had no knowledge of her presence in Halazar?” There’s a harshness to his tone that I’ve long learned is his method of protecting himself.
His anger is a shield, and beneath it lies hurt—hurt that I didn’t believe him outright, even if he’s not surprised by it.
The way he shifts, glancing toward the sconces, taking a bite of his food with a focus he usually reserves for his studies, tells me more than his words ever could.
I’m not quite sure when it happened, because it happened without trying, but I can read him as deftly as I can a tarot spread.
I want to tell him I don’t. To dispel my hesitation about him for good.
I’ve tried to go back and forth for so long—to be half in and half out of our relationship.
To fulfill my want of being near him while also managing to keep him at arm’s length.
To be skeptical of him while also putting my faith in him.
But one thing remains…One thing that holds me back from giving him all my trust. I resist touching the reversed card piece in my pocket. Ask him.
Instead, I say, “I couldn’t want to come to you for comfort?”
He freezes and stares at me like I’m some kind of ill-omen reading. “You would find comfort in my presence?”
“Forced obliviousness doesn’t suit you, Kaelis.” I reach out and place my hand on his like I could cross this gap that I still feel between us despite everything. There’s only one way to bridge the last of the space between us. “May I ask you something?”
“Anything.” He doesn’t mean that, even if he thinks he does.
The rumors of Clan Hermit say that it was destroyed by a reversed card—one Kaelis wielded. But no one knows the truth. Even if it was a reversed card, it could’ve just as easily been an accident…
Every time Clan Hermit has ever come up, Kaelis shuts down.
Every time the topic is broached, I feel his anger, palpable and pulsating.
But I must know what happened that day, and whatever he says is going to make all the difference.
A catastrophic accident—while still horrifying—is different from annihilating a clan in cold blood.
“Once a card has reversed, do you think there’s any way to save it?” The words feel like stepping into the Blood Forests. The monsters are hidden among the metaphorical trees and all it takes is one wrong step to be my end.
“Why do you ask?” His tone is so cautious. Anything about reversed cards and he’s instantly on edge.
Tell him the truth. If this is going to be anything real, I know I must. Yet a sudden terror grips my throat and keeps the words inside.
These rooms, this man—they’re the last cornerstones of a place that feels like home.
Do I dare risk losing it, too, after everything else?
Can I not shamelessly cling to one thing for myself?
One indulgence that makes the world a little more bearable?
“Jura.” It’s not a lie, but…it’s an easier place to start. Approach with caution.
His shoulders relax instantly. “There was nothing you could’ve done.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” I take a bite of food, but it’s little more than gravel and ash on my tongue. “What if…what if there’s a whole subset of magic that we’re ignoring, and people are dying because we refuse to explore it as a potential?”
“Clara.” The way he says my name is firm, and it draws my eyes back to him. “There is nothing good that will come of exploring reversed cards. They are dangerous. That is all that needs to be known.”
Don’t ask more. That’s what he’s telling me. Is it shame that is simmering beneath the surface? Or is it anger? Or, perhaps, fear?
“Did you ever research them?”
“Of course,” he admits with an ease that gives me hope that I’m creating a necessary opening after all. “I am nothing if not a scholar.”
“And you found nothing?”
“Nothing worth mentioning.” He’s being so careful with his words that he might as well be screaming that he’s keeping a secret.
“Did you ever test anything?”
“No.”
I nearly take the scrap of the reversed card from my pocket. But I don’t. I asked him once, outright, if he could wield reversed cards and he said no. If he wants my trust, then I must give it to him. I can’t keep circling back to the same old worries.
It was an accident, I decide, looking back on all he’s ever said and done. One he’s ashamed of.
The card fragment doesn’t leave my pocket.
After I’ve finished half my plate, I stand and stretch. Kaelis does as well, hand gliding around me as he pulls me to him without warning. Knuckles on my jaw, guiding my face toward him, he whispers, “Stay with me tonight?”
“Not tonight.” I step back, take his hand, and kiss his knuckles.
“Why?”
“I’d like to be alone.”
“Would you like to be alone here?” The offer is genuine. There’s no pretext or implication of him finding his way into my bed. “Your wing is always there for you.”
“No, but thank you. I’ve a lot on my mind.”
“As you please.” He pulls me back close. In a blink, his mouth is on mine.
The kiss is brief but intense. As though he wants to devour me in a single bite, ravenous for more than food. I fight a gasp as his fingers dig into my clothes and a sigh as he pulls away.
“Go, before I have a mind not to let you.” The jest is apparent in his tone, for even as he says it, he releases me, letting me leave without another word.
I finally make my way back to my room. After what feels like a decade, I collapse onto my bed. Retrieving the fragment of the card Gregor gave me from my pocket, I hold it up and debate with myself, turning it over in the lamplight.
And that’s when it hits me.
I jolt upright and practically launch myself off the bed and toward the desk.
Ripping open my drawers, I pull out a small fabric bag that has three vials in it—one vial contains the powder I retrieved from the workshop of the Fool weeks ago.
The second vial is the next most full, with fragments of what I could easily identify as normal grains of powder for inking Minor Arcana.
The last barely has anything in it at all.
Inside the last vial are what looks like tiny flecks of shattered glass.
For nights on end, I’ve been picking apart the powders I took from the workshop of the Fool with tweezers and a fine blade.
I’ve been culling these strange bits from the rest—the one thing in the Fool’s ink that I did not recognize.
My one hope for something special enough to make a legendary card.
I hold the slim glass vial up to the lamplight, turning it right and left.
The iridescent pieces fracture the light into a prism of colors—gold, red, blue, and gray, the four inking colors of the Minor Arcana.
But there’s something more. A beam of pure darkness splits from the iridescence, as if someone has carved out a slice of midnight from the light.
The longer I stare, the more it seems to pulse and undulate, like a living thing trying to break free from the void.
It is as entrancing as it is horrifying.
My skin prickles into gooseflesh, and memories stir in the back of my mind.
I’ve seen this before. The seemingly living darkness. The crystalline fragments of something other. Beyond the realm of my comprehension.
Putting the vial down, I hold up the card Gregor gave me.
Even before I place it in front of the lamplight, I already know.
I know it in the strange pockmarks. I know it as well as I knew the tiny shining fragments that covered the ground after Kel’s death, the iridescence in Emilia’s scars from Jura’s sacrifice.
The light that streams through the shining edges of the reversed card is fragmented in the same manner. My pulse pounds. Breath catches.
The secret ingredient in the Fool’s ink…is reversed cards.