Chapter 17
Eyes watch every step I take. Some curious, some indifferent. Others are calculating. Each one threatens to push me over the cliff’s edge where my composure teeters.
I curl my hands into fists and keep my gaze forward, pretending as if I don’t notice the tall, graceful women wearing vibrant sheet-dresses whispering behind manicured fingers.
Or the shorter, curvaceous ones wearing aprons over rich blue gowns, peeking over arms burdened with dining trays, linens, and baskets of cloth.
I assume the latter are servants. Though, they’re dressed finely for such an occupation. Their clothes are nicer than anything I wore in Verdanthia, aside from my mother’s gown the night of the Late King’s Festival.
I look at my wrinkled skirt and blouse and run a hand over my sea-crusted hair.
Why aren’t they scrutinizing the Fae the way they scrutinize me?
Rian revealed that glamour is altering their appearances, but what about me? What do Virendrellians see when they look at me that prompts them to stare?
I swallow the question and keep walking as Jason leads us up the second flight of stairs.
It’s a strange choice for the mayor to send his son to escort us. Reckless, even.
Unless he’s certain the Fae won’t touch him.
My gaze drops to the dark bands locked around the Fae’s wrists. My stomach tightens.
Augustus didn’t question the magic-suppressing manacles. And Helen recognized them instantly.
Does the world know Verdanthia is mining astlerium?
And if they do, will anyone try to stop them?
“So,” Jason says, slowing just enough to glance back at us, “how is life on the continent? Is it truly as dreary as our spies claim?”
Spies?
Silas walks closest to him. He meets Jason’s gaze with an indifferent one of his own, but his fingers curl slightly.
“For the most part,” he says evenly.
Jason snorts. “Thank The Mother my ancestors escaped that cursed place.”
Immediately, he stiffens, glances at Rian, and mutters, “No offense.”
Rian meets his stare without a word.
Jason swallows and turns back around, his steps a touch quicker.
Silas, ever diplomatic, tries to clear the air. “Please accept our best wishes on your upcoming marriage.”
Jason nods. “Thank you. Daphne is a blessing.”
“Is she Fae?” Darius asks.
I wince at the blunt question, but Jason only smiles.
“No. She’s human.” His voice warms. “Gifted with water magic. We met during our naval service for Virendrell. She’s as talented as she is lovely.”
Water magic?
“How fortunate,” Darius drawls.
I cannot tell if he’s being sincere or not.
Jason glances back again, curiosity brightening his eyes that he pointedly keeps off Rian. “Is it true that Fae on the continent refuse to take human lovers?”
The question hangs in the air.
And I can’t shake the feeling that he isn’t asking out of curiosity alone.
Heat floods my cheeks. I glance at Rian without thinking.
Only to find the Shadow Prince already watching me.
Gods help me.
Rian slows abruptly, letting the others pass. When I reach his side, he moves again, matching my stride.
Blood roars in my ears, drowning out whatever Silas says. I can’t focus with the formidable male beside me.
Even stripped of his shadows, his presence presses in on me, all-consuming. The faint scent of spiced incense curls into my nostrils, and something tightens in my chest.
I wait for him to speak.
He doesn’t.
His gaze stays fixed on the landing ahead as Jason continues peppering Silas with questions about Astloria, veering left onto a walkway that overlooks the courtyard below.
I glance over the railing, and my body tenses.
I never feared heights, but the image of that man falling from the hidden alcove flashes, sharp and vivid, in my head. I edge closer to the interior wall, fingers brushing the cool stone.
My breathing stays shallow until we turn into a proper corridor, enclosed and blessedly solid. The walls are lined with art. Lush landscapes alternate with formal portraits. One stops me in my tracks.
A young woman gazes out from the canvas, a crystal diadem crowning her pale hair. Her eyes are a deep, startling blue, shaded so dark they almost look violet.
I tilt my head and study the image.
She’s stunning.
“Please forgive the lackluster accommodations, Your Highness.” Jason’s words draw me out of my admiration. “With the celebrations this week, all of our other quarters are already occupied.”
I jolt when I realize everyone has reached the end of the hall.
Everyone except Rian.
He stands a step away, as though he halted the instant I did. His eyes hold mine, steady and unreadable. Once again, he offers Jason no reply.
Silas clears his throat. “These rooms will be more than adequate. Thank you.”
I press my lips together and move to join the rest of the group, ignoring the way my heart flutters when Rian keeps step with me once more.
Jason stands in the middle of the hall between four open doors.
“Excellent.” He claps once, wearing a practiced smile. “I will send servants with appropriate attire within the hour. Until then, please refresh yourselves and relax. Dinner this evening will be quite the affair.”
The mayor’s son bows low, then strides past us and disappears from sight.
My forehead furrows. He’s going to give us clothes?
What game is the mayor playing?
Or maybe this isn’t a game, and I’m just so jaded that I can’t trust any kindness anymore.
I let out a sigh and turn.
Darius and Draven have already vanished into separate rooms, doors closed behind them. Silas steps over the threshold of the third, offering me one last reassuring glance before disappearing inside.
A strong arm shoots out in front of me.
I flinch.
Rian arches a brow then flicks his gaze toward the only door still open, the one he’s motioning to. “After you.”
My pulse spikes. I glance at the empty doorway, back at him, then over my shoulder just as Silas’s door shuts.
“Sometime today, Elara.”
His voice is low and close. Too close.
I hurry inside.
Plush carpet swallows my steps, and I stop short, breath catching as the room opens around me.
An enormous bed dominates the space, four times the size of the narrow one I left behind in Verdanthia. A pale-blue duvet spills over the sides. Pillows are piled high against an intricately carved wooden headboard.
Across the room, a floor-to-ceiling window stands open, leading to a narrow balcony. White and blue curtains billow in the sea breeze, carrying the cry of seagulls and the sharp scent of salty air.
My gaze drifts over pale wood furnishings, silver handles gleaming against smooth surfaces. A white bathing tub rests before an unlit hearth, and behind it, a door hangs ajar, revealing glossy blue-and-white tile.
A bathing closet?
Click.
I spin around and gasp. “What are you doing?”
Rian leans against the door, arms crossed. “Giving us privacy.”
“I don’t want privacy.”
His lips curl.
The tension that lingers between us draws taut. I drop my gaze to the floor. I can’t endure seeing one of his rare smiles. I’ll crack.
Gods… What is wrong with me?
Rian murdered two men without blinking an eye today—proof that the prince is the heartless killer the stories say he is.
But he killed those men to protect you…
My stomach tightens. I don’t know what I’m feeling, but I know it isn’t disgust.
And that’s…unsettling.
“You must not discuss your magic while we’re here.”
“What?” I blink and force my eyes to meet his. “Why?”
The only positive about being trapped in Virendrell is the chance to discuss magic with other humans without the fear of being burned alive.
“It’s best not to reveal all your cards to your enemies.”
I cross my arms. “Who said Virendrellians are my enemies?”
His gaze sharpens. “You think of them as your allies?”
“They’re human.” Some of them, anyway.
Silver peeks through his irises, bright and furious, a reminder that even bound, his power sits just below the surface.
“Yes, they are humans.” Contempt threads through every word. “Humans with magic who are content to sit behind their sea walls and let the rest of the world burn, just as long as the flames never reach their shores.”
My attention drops to the dark metal biting into his wrists, a knot tightening in my throat.
“Do not confuse shared blood with shared loyalty,” he continues. “Virendrellians are not your saviors. They are not the ones who pulled you from that cell in Verdanthia.”
“Is that what you think you are?” I scowl. “My savior?”
“No.” He pushes off the door, arms falling to his sides as he advances. “I am something far greater.”
It takes every shred of stubborn resolve I possess not to retreat.
“Oh?” I lift my chin. “And what’s that?”
His jaw works, muscles flexing as silver flares in his eyes. Their intensity strikes straight through my chest, but it doesn’t hurt.
If anything, it’s the opposite.
He keeps coming until the toes of his boots brush my filthy slippers. I tilt my head back to hold his stare.
Rian leans in.
I seal my lips, heart hammering.
His breath ghosts over my mouth as he exhales. “I’m your prince.”
I mean to scoff, but the sound comes out rough. Strangled. “You’re not my anything, Zylen.”
His upper lip curls, revealing the sharp edge of a canine.
My arms drop, and I step back on instinct, my subconscious recognizing a dangerous predator and demanding my retreat.
Rian matches my step, continuing to do so with every one I take until my knees hit the edge of the mattress.
I lock my legs. Falling onto a bed with him would be a huge mistake.
“If you must speak of your magic with humans, only say you are a healer,” he commands. “Do not discuss your light.”
My pulse pounds in my ears.
Is that a compromise?
“Why not?”
“Because Virendrellians are not honorable. Trust me.”
I snort. “Unlikely.”
Instead of being offended, he smiles and lifts a hand.
My brain misfires as his fingers trail across my cheek in a featherlight caress.
“There’s your spirit. I was worried you left it behind in your worthless lover’s hands.”
I slap his touch away. “You’re an ass.”
His grin grows as he lowers his arm. “I am.”
Wanting nothing more than to wipe that annoying smile from his perfect lips, I spit out, “You’re also arrogant. And infuriating. And…rude.”
Gah!
Is that all I’ve got?
Ferria would be so disappointed in me.
My insults do nothing more than heighten Rian’s amusement.
The prince stares down at me, silver flecks sparking in his dark eyes. “So I’ve been told.”
The space between us warms. Or maybe it’s just me.
My heart races at a mile a minute. My palms grow sweaty. My gaze dips to his perfectly bowed lips, tracing the stubble that shadows his strong jaw.
I swallow. “I don’t like you.”
“Come now, Elara. I thought we were past lying to each other.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say I’ll stop when he does, but his hand returns to my face. This time, he cups my cheek with a touch that can only be described as tender. His other hand lands on my waist, as if to hold me in place should I try to move.
Confusion swirls, pumping out of my heart and into my veins. His thumb strokes my skin.
My breath hitches. “What are you doing?”
His smile falls, but he doesn’t remove his hand.
“I don’t know,” he answers quietly.
Rian doesn’t have access to his magic, but I swear a shadow coils around his wrist. When I blink, it’s gone.
Unspoken questions drift in the silence, subtle and probing, as if we’re both searching for answers we don’t dare ask for aloud.
Oddly enough, calm slips over my shoulders like a warm cloak.
For days, my life has been nothing but motion and upheaval. Travel. Danger. Fear.
The torture in Verdanthia. The endless sea. Near death by the tentacles of the Pelagor.
It all hits me.
I haven’t rested. Not truly.
Not since the night I was ripped from my bed after the Late King’s Festival. My world shattered in an instant. I’ve been separated from my family and forced to leave the only home I’ve ever known.
And yet, right now, standing in the arms of my greatest enemy, the weight lightens.
With Rian here, nothing can reach me.
I feel…safe?
Gods, save me. I close my eyes and inhale through my nostrils. What is happening to me?
“Don’t do that.”
My eyelids fly open. “Do what?”
“Look away from me.” Rian’s gaze dips down to my throat, eyes flashing when he focuses on the wound still marring my sensitive flesh from the dagger. “I loathe it when you look away from me.”
Heat creeps up my neck, and my thoughts swirl with equal parts indignation and something far more dangerous.
Something I refuse to name.
Rian’s eyes lift back to lock with mine, waiting. The marks on my arms tighten.
I grasp for words but come up empty.
What am I supposed to say to something like that?
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I startle and fall back onto the mattress, catching myself with my hands. My heart flutters as I stare up at Rian, breathless.
Silver flares in his gaze before sputtering out. He pivots just as the door swings open.
“Hello, dear, I’m here to help you dress— Oh my.”
An older, full-figured woman halts two steps inside the room. Her eyes dart between Rian and me, where I perch on the edge of the bed.
“My apologies, my lord,” she says quickly, dipping into a practiced curtsy. “I expected the lady to be alone.”
“No apology necessary,” Rian says smoothly, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “I was just leaving.”
The woman steps away from the door, head tilted in deference. “Of course.”
I drag in a steadying breath, my gaze snagging on Rian’s back. Without his shadowy cloak, the lines of muscle beneath his tunic are impossible to ignore.
He steps into the hall, but his hand lands on the doorframe.
He glances over his shoulder, a faint grin curling his mouth. “See you tonight, Sunshine.”
The door closes before I can reply.
But not before his wicked wink finds its mark, leaving a warmth in my veins I can’t shake…and don’t entirely want to.