Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ASHLYN
When the night grew stiller and the music finally ceased, the grand ballroom emptied. Every lady and lord exited until only Fyn remained at the door.
“I will walk you to your chambers.” Soren held his arm out to me, guiding me past Fyn who fell in a steady step behind us.
The silence between us was painful. I fought my desperate need to fill it the rest of the way back.
“I know this meeting is most orchestrated, but I want you to feel at ease around me.” Soren paused steps away from the door.
“Yes, I believe most people just meet and fall in love.” I cursed myself the moment I said it. It was something Fyn would say.
“Is that a joke?” His brows knitted.
“Something like one.” I pulled my hand back from him.
“I imagine Bailoc’s customs differ.” He was so serious.
A part of me hated how serious he was.
He had no idea how I had been shaped—the life I had already lived—the things I had already seen that no princess should have ever seen.
My father had been murdered in front of me.
I saw men bleed in the midst of battle.
I wasn’t the soft princess he thought he was getting. It was possible someday he might understand it all, but it didn’t make that moment any less heartbreaking.
“I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow after your trip to the market.” His fingers wrapped around mine, and he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it.
I wanted to want him to, but I didn’t. “Goodnight, Prince Soren.”
“Goodnight, Princess Ashlyn.” With a quick bow of his head, he took his leave.
My eyes found Fyn’s before I dropped his stare.
I didn’t need to hear his words to know what he was thinking. When I pushed the door open to my chambers, only silence greeted me.
The gown flowed around me as I lay back in my bed, staring at the golden filigree set into the ceiling overhead.
Soren wasn’t exactly charming.
He didn’t need to be. This was meant to be an arrangement—as nearly all royal weddings were.
Overwhelm struck me. I sank into it.
For months I lived amongst the fae and always wanted more. I wanted the life I had before my sister left—before my brother wanted more power than what he should.
And now, if I wanted this world, I would marry a man I didn’t know if I could care for.
I had crossed kingdoms to stand here. If the starlight hadn’t taken me down, then certainly my lack of interest in my potential husband wouldn’t.
The starlight.
It was the last time I had felt the heat—the one that kept overtaking me.
The feeling shifted slowly, but the warmth remained. It was undeniably the same as when I drank the starlight.
Maybe it didn’t just alter my energy.
Maybe it altered me with magic.
The concept seemed foreign, even though I had seen my sister use hers, bringing blooms to life under her glittering fingertips.
My hands didn’t release glittering light. They were human and ordinary.
Aelira could call upon it. I tried to force something, anything to come from my fingertips, but nothing happened. I wasn’t sure if it was a thought or a feeling.
There were plenty of fae that I was told had magic, but I never saw them do anything with it. Cora had visions of the future. There was nothing visible about it other than how shocked she looked when one took hold.
The starlight warmth came on whenever I said something, or when someone else did. Maybe I had to test it.
The last few times I had felt it I had lied.
My name is Aelira.
It sweltered.
I am the only true daughter of King Ardyn.
Only calm.
I am really good with the sword.
More warmth.
I don't want Fyn to leave.
Nothing.
I like Soren. He's charming.
Heat rose.
I wished I liked Soren.
Nothing.
It struck me with every lie. Every truth was a calm I couldn’t ignore.
What if it flared it when others were lying too?