Chapter Thirty-Nine #3
He blinks. “The—oh. No. I don’t really... dance.”
Pity.
Then I walk away before he can overthink everything I just asked.
The central open aired courtyard glows like something out of a dream. Above us, the stars sparkle clean through the sky, bright and beautiful. And beneath them, cadets dance like we haven’t spent the week trying to kill each other.
Even the setting’s dressed for the lie.
Fabric banners in rich colours and silver ripple in the night air, catching the light just enough to look expensive. Even the stone feels softer underfoot. Like the Citadel’s trying to prove something.
Maybe they are. Maybe it’s easier to pretend this place isn’t built on blood if you throw a pretty dress over it and add wine.
And to be honest, tonight, I'm glad for it. I want to forget everything, forget where I am, what's going on. Have fun with my friends just for one night, without any drama or deaths.
A late spring breeze cools over me, kissing bare skin where the slit of my dress rises high along my thigh.
It’s stupid how good it fits. How good I feel.
Long silver fabric, soft as air and cut within an inch of scandal.
I’ve never worn anything like it, hell, never owned anything like it.
It’s the kind of dress I used to press my face against the tailor’s window to look at.
The kind they’d never let a girl like me touch, let alone wear.
“Wow,” Finn breathes as he and Rowan weave through the edge of the crowd towards us.
His voice is low, unguarded. “You look… amazing,” his gaze skims over me—once, twice—playful and a little too practised, lingering a heartbeat too long on the slit at my leg.
Typical. I raise an eyebrow, ready to fire back—
—but then he sees her.
Ezzy’s standing to my left, quiet, in a black silk gown that fits like a damn dream. Her hair’s pinned up in an effortless way that somehow makes her look more seductive without even realising. She hasn’t even noticed him yet. But Finn?
Finn stares.
“Careful,” I murmur, lips twitching. “You’re going to give yourself away.”
He mumbles something and scrubs a hand down his face. Rowan just laughs behind him, clearly enjoying the show. Ezzy finally glances up, and Finn straightens too fast, smile too bright. It’s so obvious it’s almost sweet.
“Can’t believe you got this for me,” I say to Ezzy without turning, fingers brushing the fabric at my hip, light as air but lined with silver lace beneath.
“I picked it up over the term break after Ashvale.” Her shoulder lifts, casual. “Figured if you came back, you’d need something.”
I nod once, swallowing. “I don’t deserve you.” My voice is low. Honest. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.” She replies.
Ezzy and I talked for hours while we got ready. Still so much more that needs to be said, but it was a start.
I drop my pack beside one of the tables.
I don’t need it, don't know why I brought it, but I’ve been carrying the duck all day—muscle memory or superstition, not sure which.
The strap brushes my arm as it slips off, but there’s no sting.
Burn’s nearly gone. The ointment the healer gave me worked fast; just a faint pink mark remains.
“I'm going to get a drink. Lyra, you want to come?” Rowan turns to me, obviously scheming to give Ezzy and Finn some privacy.
I nod, and we slip off before either of them can join us.
“So what are you going to do about Talen?” He asks as we walk over to the buffet table.
“God, I don't know, luckily I have another week to figure that out before he's back.”
I’ve spent the last few weeks furious at him for shutting me out—he kept saying he wanted me to trust him, but when I asked for one thing, one thing about me, not him, not what he's doing, but what was happening with my magic, he shut down.
And if he couldn’t even give me that, then how the hell was I supposed to blindly trust the rest of it?
But now… Now I know what happened to his ex-girlfriend, what's obviously been happening between us. I'm beginning to understand why he didn't want to talk about it.
And yeah, that should make it easier. But it doesn’t, because I don’t know what to do with it.
Has he not been touching me because he won’t… or because he can’t? If it wasn’t rejection—if it was restraint—then all those silences, all that space between us… What the hell does that mean for us? What does it mean for the other secrets he’s hiding?
The music cuts out, just long enough to notice, and my attention snaps back to the room. We’ve made it to the buffet table. Rowan’s standing in front of me, holding out a drink, one brow raised like he’s been waiting. I blink. Oh, shit. I’ve been spiralling.
“Sorry,” I mutter, taking the glass from his hand. “Lost in thought.”
Rowan just shakes his head, that faint, knowing half-smile tugging at his mouth.
I don't want to talk about Talen with him, I want to tell him about the diary entry. About what happened to my dad—that he saw something during reassignment, something that made him run—and that’s why they took him.
But not in the middle of a ball. Not with people hovering close enough to hear. Later.
Instead, I grab a plate. The food looks amazing—perfectly plated, overly golden—but the second it hits my tongue, it’s the same dry, chalky texture. Yum, birth control.
There's a nudge at my arm, Rowan elbows me and lifts his chin toward the centre of the courtyard. I follow his gaze to where Ezzy and Finn are dancing. Badly.
They're off-beat, arms too stiff, clearly trying not to step on each other. But at least they’re touching. Which is more than I expected from either of them. It’s awkward as fuck. It’s also kind of perfect.
My gaze drifts past them, and catches on Lucien. He’s standing at the edge of the crowd, half in shadow, glass of wine untouched in his hand. Watching me. I freeze. He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t blink. Just holds my gaze like he’s already decided something. My stomach knots, and I look away first.
I don’t know what he saw, or heard. Does he know what really happened with Beth? Does he think I killed her? I was about to. Maybe he’s looking for someone to blame—
Beside me, Rowan exhales deep. “Today you scared me, Lyra,” he says, face tense. “This place is brutal… and Ezzy… she's all I have. I owe her—everything. Her family...” He shakes his head. Doesn’t finish. “Promise me something. If you ever have to choose between me and her, choose her.”
“Rowan—”
“No. I’m serious.” He looks at me full-on now. “This week was fucked. I’ve been thinking about it. And it’s not just a hypothetical. It’s a valid concern.”
I want to tell him he’s being dramatic. That I’d never let it come to that, but he’s not wrong. So I just nod. “I promise.”
A beat passes. The music shifts.
“Okay,” I say, shaking my head. “We’re at a ball, and this week’s been hell, so maybe let’s not talk about death and impossible choices right now. Especially not while Daniel’s eye-fucking you from across the room.”
Rowan doesn’t look right away. Just lifts his glass, real casual—too casual—and takes a sip like it’ll hide the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
I narrow my eyes. “Oh my god. It’s actually going well.”
He shrugs, but his eyes give him away.
“Well then,” I say, nudging his arm. “Let’s go dance and make him jealous anyway.”
Rowan laughs. “I would, but I think someone else is waiting for you.”
He tips his chin behind me. I turn—
Talen’s cutting straight through the courtyard towards me like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
And it’s not the speed that guts me. It’s the look, I know that look, it's the same one he gave me after I interfered with Ezzy’s Demonstration—but colder. Deeper.
Shit, so much for wanting to avoid any drama tonight.