Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
TATE
The moment I spot Ara, I nearly swallow my tongue. She looks beautiful. I may prefer her in leather, but she looks stunning in the green dress. Her hair tumbles down her back in soft curls, one of them trailing over her collarbone in a way that makes me want to sample her skin right there.
She curtsies before my brother, and I have the urge to shove him aside when his lips meet her skin. I fucking hate it.
Her eyes find me, like she knew I was here from the start, and when they jump back to my brother, I crave her attention like it’s a physical thing.
Frederick beckons me over, and I don’t like the look on his face. It’s like he knows something I don’t.
He introduces me, but my attention is on Ara. Her eyes widen, her mouth opens as if she wants to say something, and the color drains from her face. Her breath comes too fast, too shallow. I step closer.
“Are you alright?” Frederick asks.
What a stupid question.
“Yeah, I’m great,” Ara whispers, and all of us take a step closer. “Actually, I think … I need … if you’ll excuse me…” Her voice sounds strangled, and she turns and flees.
I try to rush after her, gossip be damned, but just like Blackstone, the crowd my brother is always surrounded by delays me.
“Well, angel, so we meet again, and you end up in my arms once more.” I recognize that voice, Lir Morgan.
The biggest womanizer Avina has to offer, and the new admiral of our navy since he took over his father’s position a year ago.
Morgan holds Ara like he has a right to, smiling down at her.
When he notices us, he pulls her even closer while his smile turns into a smirk.
“And in high demand, I see. Do you need someone to protect you from those brutes?” He offers all flirt and charm while Ara blinks up at him.
“Get your hands off her,” I growl, and I’m not surprised to hear the same sentiment echoed by Blackstone.
Wait a minute, meet again?
“My, my, our rogue prince and the general are laying claim on you. Now, I do have to know who you are, and if there is a chance, I can throw my hat in there as well.” He only has eyes for Ara, and it’s starting to seriously piss me off.
Ara says something too low for me to catch and makes a half-assed attempt to get away from him. His eyes wander over her before he lifts an eyebrow, still ignoring Blackstone’s and my request.
“No wonder you can’t breathe,” he murmurs, and I miss the rest of what he says because I’m hung up on that.
She can’t breathe? He unsheathes a dagger, and my thoughts turn murderous.
“One wrong move and we’ll need a new admiral,” I threaten before ripping Ara out of his arms and throwing open the balcony doors with my gift.
Then we are out on the balcony.
“Tate, what…?” Ara gasps.
“Just breathe, sunshine,” I tell her, setting her down and pulling her into me. “Just relax and breathe.” She relaxes into me, and I pull her closer.
Something inside me settles at her closeness, like I exhale for the first time in a week, and when she rests her head against my shoulder, I fight the urge to kiss her neck.
My back is against the wall right next to the doors, and we are out of sight, but that is not what’s holding me back. There is a very real possibility she’ll push me away, and I don’t want to risk it.
Voices echo in the hallway, reminding me we are not alone.
“How do you know my sister?” Blackstone asks the question I burn to know the answer to.
“Your sister?” Morgan muses, “Fancy that! Of all the girls tumbling into my arms during our visit … a small world indeed.”
“You’d better explain that, or I swear, Morgan, you’ll find my fist in your face in a moment,” Blackstone threatens, but Morgan only laughs.
“I do enjoy seeing you go all barbarian, Blackstone.” He chuckles. “Who would have thought there is such fire under that ice?”
“Morgan, would you think it funny if it were your sister we were talking about?” Blackstone asks, which shuts him up.
“Sorry, old man. No, I wouldn’t think it funny at all if someone mentioned Marina in that way.”
Huh, I didn’t know Morgan even had a sister.
“Old man?” Blackstone scoffs. “You are … what? Two years younger than me? Three?”
“It still counts.” I can hear the smile in Morgan’s voice, and it sounds like they have had that argument before.
“But to get back to your sister… I was bored during our visit to the academy and went to the library, where your sister literally tumbled off a ladder and into my arms. She cursed like one of my sailors, laughed at me when I tried to sweet-talk her, and rushed off in a hurry, claiming to be late. So while it’s safe to say she bewitched me instantly, we exchanged probably less than five sentences, and I had no idea she was your sister. ”
“What was Tamara doing at the Aerie?” my brother asks, alerting me to his presence, and I realize Ara and her brother must have just arrived, if he hasn’t heard about her Phoenix yet.
“Where is Solaris?” I ask Ara, startling her.
“Oh, he’s around. He said something about a rose garden last time we talked.”
“My brother doesn’t know you’re bonded?” I ask.
“Yeah, about that. Your brother? Really? You didn’t think mentioning that would have been kind of the obvious thing to do when I came clean about who I am?” she whisper-hisses and pushes away from me, and I regret saying anything.
She turns on me, color blooming on her previously pale cheeks, and her chest heaves distractingly.
“Who the fuck put you in a corset?” I ask, only now realizing why her waist looks so ridiculously tiny.
“My maid,” she snaps, “but that is not the issue here.” Her voice gets louder.
“It is if you have trouble breathing,” I counter.
“No, I want to know why you never told me who you were, when—” She’s interrupted by her brother calling her name. When I look up, all three men—Blackstone, Morgan, and my brother—stand in the doorway, watching us.
Shit, I forgot about them.
By the way Ara looks at them, I think she did, too. Her eyes glaze over. She is talking to Solaris. Only seconds later, shouts of alarm and wonder announce him before Solaris’s brilliant form dives toward us.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need a few minutes to cool down.” Ara curtsies and jumps on Solaris’s back, who is perched on the stone railing. We watch silently as Solaris takes to the skies, Ara’s skirt hiked up inappropriately and her golden hair trailing behind.
“Holy hell, I might have to marry her,” Morgan declares, only to start chuckling when all three of us stare at him with less-than-friendly expressions.
“Sorry, I didn’t think that through before it came out.
” He shrugs. “But hot damn, she’s bonded to a Phoenix?
” He shakes his head in wonder. “So let me get this straight, she is a skyrider, bonded to a Phoenix, sister of our commanding general, and promised to our crown prince … what gift does she have?” He turns toward Blackstone.
“Fire,” Blackstone answers, and it stings that I didn’t know that until now.
“At least they’ll think twice before trying to abduct her.” He slaps Blackstone’s shoulder.
Trying to abduct her? My eyes fly to my brother. What does Morgan mean by that?
“And the ball tonight is in her honor, right?” Morgan asks, and when Fred nods, he grins.
“Then I’ll make sure to attend. I can’t wait to see the reaction to our future queen if they took weeks to accept the thought of Darren or me in the positions we’re in.
” He chuckles. “This is going to be good,” he predicts, walking away whistling after waving a cheery goodbye to all of us.
“Well, I’ll get some rest, then,” I say and hurry off before Blackstone or my brother can corner me. My brain is foggy with exhaustion. Flying through the night might have gotten me here, but it sure wasn’t pleasant.
My feet carry me to my old rooms without even thinking about it.
I hesitate, but then use my gift to unlock the door, nearly expecting the space to be empty or transformed into someone else’s quarters.
But to my surprise, everything looks exactly how I left it, apart from the chaos I caused while packing in a hurry.
Despite the sitting room being spacious, it’s suffocating to be back.
As if I’ve stepped into my past, and the missing years are pressing in on me.
I continue into my bedroom, but everything looks the same here, too.
The dark blue of my family and a big four-poster in dark wood dominate the room, which now seems unnecessarily big after years at the academy.
Curious, I open my desk and find everything where I left it, the paper still adorned by my name. A name that doesn’t feel like mine anymore. Even the signet ring I left is still lying next to it, and not a speck of dust is in sight. As if the past four years never happened. Eerie.
I close the desk and wander over to my wardrobe, only to find everything still in order there, too. Even the red healer’s garment is still there.
“Are you alright?” Daeva asks.
“Yeah, I’m… I don’t know, actually.” I look around the room again. “I’ll be fine. Get some sleep, and I’ll do the same.”
When I wake in my old bed, in my old room, it feels strange, like the past few years have been a dream. Only I can’t decide if it’s a good or a bad one. A brisk knock on the door explains what woke me.
I never closed the curtains, and the sun is already low, the slanted rays nearly reaching me.
It has to be well after the fourth strike.
The knock sounds again, and while I’m tempted to ignore it, I know it’s a servant sent to fetch me.
He won’t stop unless I answer, not daring to fail his king’s request.
I groan and sit up, unlocking and throwing open the door with my magic. The man standing in front of it wears a servant uniform, wringing his hands and looking uncomfortable.
“What is it?” I ask.
“The queen wishes to see you, Your Highness.” So my father didn’t send for me himself. Interesting.
“Centurion will do. I no longer hold my old title.”
“But…”
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I say, closing the door in his face. For a second, I contemplate donning some of my old clothes, but that comes too close to falling in line, like defeat. I slip into a fresh uniform instead. I’m not here for them. If not for Ara, I wouldn’t be here at all.
The servant hurries ahead, and my curiosity is piqued when he leads me to my parents’ quarters instead of the throne room. It’s not like my father to pass up a chance to intimidate in the right setting.
Despite that change, I’m not prepared for the sight when I lay eyes on my parents.
My mother hasn’t changed much, but she looks worried and a little drawn.
But my father… he has aged vastly in the past years.
He’s lost weight, his hair is gray now, and his once proud and strong frame looks frail and bent by age.
Only his voice is as clipped and cold as ever.
“Where have you been?” he snaps. His eyes wander over my uniform. “A skyrider … well, I guess it’s better than a healer. Is that why you threw your legacy in my face and vanished without a word? You were looking for glory?”
“You told me to never come back,” I answer evenly.
“And still you are here, standing right in front of me.”
“I can find lodging elsewhere if that offends you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” My mother intervenes, breaking our staring contest. “Your rooms are still yours, and we are happy to see you, aren’t we, Reginald?” she asks my father, but he doesn’t react, just continues staring at me.
Everything else would have surprised me. He is not a forgiving man, and I don’t think he will ever forgive me for walking away. Not even if he ever learns my reasons.
“How have you been?” my mother asks, coming closer but stopping short of touching me. Her hands twitch, and without my father present, I think she would have hugged me.
“I’m good.”
“That is all you have to say? After running off to the gods know where, the only thing you have to say to your mother is I’m good?” my father snaps.
“What did you hope for? That I come back begging for forgiveness, Father? That I’ll tell you how miserable my life is and beg you to take me in? You can wait eternally for that.”
“Please, could we not just talk civilly for at least a few minutes?” my mother asks, and I bite back the rest of my words for her sake. “How are Jared and Nan?”
“Jared and I joined the skyriders. Nan lives comfortably and doesn’t miss a thing despite you cutting her off.” The last words are directed at my father.
“You did not.” My mother whips around to look at him now, too, and this time, he appears slightly uncomfortable.
“She chose her future when she decided to leave us.”
“I will fix that,” my mother tells me. “Please tell her I didn’t know. She should have written me. After everything she did for us…” She shakes her head, disappointed at my father.
“Frederick is holding court now?” I ask, since he greeted Ara and Blackstone alone despite my parents probably knowing they were coming.
“He started taking over a year ago,” my mother answers and looks at my father again, but doesn’t say the obvious: His health is declining.
But the gods forbid someone would say that to his face.