Chapter One #2
Tomorrow, Aurelie’s life would change. She’d kill a demon without aid, and would secure her blood-born right to bond with an angel. She’d “earn her wings,” as her family called it, and would become Rhovar’s last hope of winning this war.
But for tonight, she was only Aurelie.
They parted for a brief breath, Nicolas’s forehead resting against hers. His cheeks were flushed, his smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I wasn’t sure if I should mention this, but your father spoke with me today.”
She said nothing, her mind already racing toward the inevitable path her father had set for her.
Once she took her bond, she’d need to marry and continue the Chantelune line.
Varen’s interest in Nicolas was his ability to fulfill that role, and for a heartbeat, it was easy to pretend she was someone without the weight of a kingdom on her shoulders.
That she was someone who could offer her heart to a kind man who would treat it well.
But such were luxuries she could not afford, and so she carefully peeled herself away. “Not tonight,” she said, despising herself for the way his smile fell. “Tell me about the conversation later, after I’ve earned my wings.”
A deep line carved itself between his brows, but he nodded and let his hold on her drop. “Very well.” He turned to glance through the tavern’s window. “It’s a different song now. We should head back—”
“You go.” She hoped her smile would soften the blow. That he would know it wasn’t him she was running from. “I should start preparing for tomorrow’s hunt.”
Nicolas scratched at his neck, hesitant before he offered, “May I walk you back?”
“Your kindness is noted, Sir Beaumont, but do not trouble yourself. Go, have fun. A walk alone with my thoughts will do me some good.”
Knowing Nicolas, the struggle on his face meant that he very much wanted to insist. But he wasn’t one to overstep. “Very well,” he conceded, bowing. “I’ll see you for the hunt.”
Aurelie didn’t linger. The castle loomed ahead, its gray stone softened beneath the moon’s glow, and she hurried to it. There was only one person she wished to speak with, and she’d never be found in the tavern.
The castle garden was quiet as Aurelie slipped through its gates, the weight of the night settling around her.
A hush lingered in the garden, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves and the gentle drip of water from an old stone spout half-shrouded by ivy.
The moon hung low and swollen in the sky, casting a pale sheen over the marble paths and silvering the petals of withering valerian.
Neatly trimmed hedges stretched like shadows along the pathways, and the late-autumn air gnawed at her bare skin, turning it pink with chill.
She found Ilaria nestled among the greenery, curled up on a bench overlooking the moonflowers. The princess wore a thick fur coat and had her back to the stars, using their light to guide her through the pages of a book she squinted at.
“I hear sunlight helps with that,” Aurelie mused, leaning against the weathered base of an old stone statue.
The angel it depicted stood with her wings outstretched, hands cupped in silent benediction.
Twisting ivy curled around her feet, creeping up the folds of carved robes.
“Does your father know you’re out here?”
“What the king doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
” Ilaria hadn’t startled, as if she’d sensed Aurelie’s quiet approach.
She smiled, her dark eyes flicking up from her reading.
“And sunlight would help, yes. But with it comes noise and burning skin. It’s much easier to hear my own thoughts at night.
” She shut her book, dragging herself upright on the bench. “Why are you out so late?”
“I was celebrating.” Aurelie straightened, her neck lifting under Ilaria’s gaze. As her eyes settled on the gorget, Ilaria’s expression softened. A moment later, she was on her feet, flinging her arms around Aurelie in an embrace that nearly knocked the breath from her.
“Look at you!” Ilaria pulled back, taking her in with a delighted laugh. “Light, I should have known you’d wear it so well. Did they cheer? Everyone had better have cheered.”
Aurelie huffed a small laugh. “I think Marcel cheered enough for everyone.”
“As he should.” Ilaria stepped back, eyes shining. “No one deserves this more than you.” The princess gripped her tight by the arm, hauling Aurelie back to the bench with surprising strength.
“And Nicolas?” Ilaria asked quietly, a knowing lilt in her words. “Did he cheer?”
Aurelie cut her a sidelong glance. “How did you know?”
“You smell of vetiver. That boy douses himself in oil every time he bathes.”
“Astute as always, I see.”
Ilaria grinned. “Of course. Though admittedly I also heard our fathers speaking about potential upcoming nuptials.”
Aurelie groaned. Of course Ilaria knew this, too. The princess had a gift for gleaning information, though how she managed it was anyone’s guess considering her general disdain for courtly life and her refusal to keep even a single lady-in-waiting.
“I’m not even bonded yet and already they’re trying to pawn me off.” She sighed, inspecting the book Ilaria had been reading. It was a tome on war strategies, its vellum pages thick with inked diagrams. Aurelie frowned, tossing it aside.
They lived in war. The last thing she wanted was to read about it.
“I’ve dedicated my entire life to being a knight, and they want to marry me off before I can even—” She cut herself off, noticing the tiny frown on Ilaria’s lips. “Apologies. I should be grateful that I at least get to approve my husband.”
“There’s no need to be sorry. You’re a pawn of this war as much as I am.
Should it endure much longer, I expect my father will allow others to begin bidding on me soon enough.
” Though she smiled, there was an unmistakable steel in Ilaria’s voice.
“But never mind that. Tell me everything that passed between you and Sir Beaumont. How did it happen? Is he as fine a kisser as they say?”
The tension that had been so knotted in Aurelie’s chest loosened with every second she spent beside her friend. “He asked me to dance,” she began, drawing her legs beneath her as she turned to Ilaria, ready to spill every detail.
But she never got the chance.
Aurelie’s gaze lifted, drawn by instinct to a fast-approaching shape that cut across the sky. Two dark, massive wings blotted out the stars in its wake, and her body seized at the threat her mind had already named:
Demon.