The Dark in the Sky #2
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of spiced meat and other things that made my stomach voice its opinions.
Loudly.
Tables carved from polished wood crowded the main dining room. The space bustled with patrons laughing over their ales or quietly savoring their meals.
A woman with a rather impressive bust who clearly had no problem with the attention it attracted approached us at the door. She beamed at Caelan, her green eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Your Highness.” She inclined her head, a strand of flame-red hair escaping her bun. “The rooftop has been prepared.”
“Grisael.” Caelan offered a nod. “Efficient as always.”
He moved toward the stairs at the far wall.
Grisael glanced sidelong at me, lingering longer than was appropriate before following him. Then her lip curled. I assumed she had heard the rumors, and I briefly thought about throwing her into the nearby canal. She seemed well-equipped to float.
The rooftop terrace was empty.
Curving iron trellises arched overhead, partially swallowed by climbing vines with white and pale blue flowers.
Lanterns hung between the iron at varying heights, warming the space intimately.
A set of low couches with too many pillows in shades of white and beige sat at the far end.
The dark skies stretched above us. The suspiciously still stars pulsed with each step we took toward the lone table that was set up in the center.
White cloth covered the circular surface.
Silver utensils sat among white porcelain, a bottle of wine, and candles that were purely for aesthetics and not function.
Two chairs, cushioned for comfort. The entire place had an atmosphere that intended to swoon, and I was absolutely fighting it internally.
I was doing a fantastic job until Caelan pulled out a chair for me as if royalty did that often.
Caelan sat across from me and reached for the bottle of wine.
“This looks…planned.” I repositioned a candle for no reason.
“It is.”
“Romantic.”
He smiled mid-pour. “Thank you.”
I took the glass he slid toward me and watched as he raised his for a drink.
“Do you do this often?”
His hand stopped midway. A tilt of his head. “No.”
“Mm.” I swirled my wine. “Looks practiced.”
One corner of his lip tugged up. “The only people I’ve ever shared a meal with are Brie, Maelor, Riven, and a couple of unwilling nobles.”
“So I’m the reason for all this.”
“You.” He angled his glass toward me. “Are the reason for many things. I have stopped questioning them.”
I exhaled a quiet laugh.
Caelan had ordered enough food that even if Maelor and Riven were here, we would not have finished half of what was on the table.
I was watching the people in the street below when I lost myself in thought.
“How do you think people found out that I tried to harm you?” I asked.
He looked up from peeling a shrimp.
“The guards are loyal, but loyalty doesn’t stop men from talking when wine or coin are involved.”
I frowned at the thought of that. I had learned to know the estate guards. Mostly through winning their coin in dice and over cheap ale, which was the most honest way to get to know anyone. I did not believe they would succumb that easily.
I leaned on my elbows. “Do you think it was Luceris?”
He dropped the peeled shrimp onto my plate and moved to peel another.
“That may have crossed my mind.” He looked up at me. “Why do you think that?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “He spread rumors about you before. Figured it was his signature.”
“That would imply that he knew you tried to kill me.” He tapped a finger on the table. “Which would mean he had sent you, and I would rather not think about that on our date.”
I leaned back and stared at him.
“Who said this is a date?”
He waved at the romantic setup around us.
I stabbed the shrimp with my fork, the metal scraping against the porcelain in a sound that felt too loud on the quiet terrace.
After our plates were cleared, Caelan and I moved to the couches at the end of the terrace. They rested beneath a trellis swollen with vines and greenery. The scent of night jasmine hung between us as we sat down with what remained of our wine.
Caelan draped his arm over the back of the couch during the descent.
I sat close enough that our legs brushed, and it was ridiculous that my heart rate was spiking. We had kissed last night. My hand had been in his hair, and I should be used to his proximity by now, but I wasn’t.
He wore an amused grin that said he knew exactly how flustered I was and was enjoying every second. He leaned all the way back into the white cushions and stared up into the sky. Then released a long exhale like the entire day had overstayed its welcome.
“Come here.” He tugged on my elbow gently.
I went down willingly, pressing against his chest as we lay on the couch together. It felt surprisingly natural, the way my body fit against him. My cheek on his chest, his chin on top of my head.
The sound of laughter and footfalls from the stairs made me tense. People could come up here and see the way we were tangled together. That was not going to help anyone.
I shifted.
Caelan’s arm that was over the couch came down to wrap around my shoulder.
“Relax,” he said against my head. “You’re making being with me feel like treason.”
“Because it might as well be.”
The weight of it hit me then. I was wrapped in the arms of a prince.
I stared up at the sky instead because, despite it all, this felt right. I chose to enjoy every impossible minute of it and sank into his warmth.
It was at least sixth bell by now.
The unmoving stars looked like glitter scattered across a shifting darkness that moved with the wind. I had noticed it before, peripherally, and filed it away as something particular to Twilight. The magic had caused it.
I stared.
The shifting darkness was there, yes. But behind it, in the gaps between the moving parts, there was something else.
A stillness. A shade darker than the rest, not moving with the wind, just sitting there behind everything.
And the enormous thing moving in front of it couldn’t be night. Because the stillness, that was night.
My goosebumps rose.
“Did the sky always look like that?” I murmured more to myself than to Caelan.
I squinted and sat up to look harder at something I was failing to understand or understanding too clearly.
When I turned to Caelan, he was watching me. His jaw tight. Which was all the confirmation I needed.
“That isn’t the sky,” I said carefully.
“No,” he said.
I exhaled as a chill ran down my spine.
“It's yours.” The pieces arranged themselves while I said it. “All of it. The darkness isn't just darkness. It never was.” I looked up, then back at him. “It's your power.”
He swallowed.
The air felt denser, as if it were pressing inward.