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Then she spotted a little red hat poke out from behind the blue tapestries in the corner of the room, closest to the side doors. That gnome never listened to anything. She knew the most feared mage in history walked these halls, that assassins might come, and still Tif disobeyed. What happened to the days she was terrified of jumbos?

“Ugh, Tif is down here. I told her to stay upstairs.”

The gnome slunk out from behind the tapestries and headed for the table with the food… of course.

“She’s your lady’s maid,” Thane said and then kissed Layala’s cheek. The warmth of his lips lingered on her skin. After her retelling of the memory of them dancing together from their previous life, his mood lifted all the more. He was all smiles, and it didn’t look like even Hel or Varlett could bring that down. One brief recall obviously wasn’teverything,but it was a step. “I’ll grab you a drink. Wine?”

“Thanks for pawning the argument off on me. And yes, a glass of wine, please.”

Thane chuckled. “I’ll be waiting for you over here.”

Layala hurried across the glossy floor, nodding at guests, and smiling as they greeted her and dipped into curtsies. No one stopped her. Unless invited, it wasn’t customary to approach royalty in Palenor. And ever since Thane threatened everyone at the Summer Solstice festival last year, most guests steered clear of her.

Tif was almost at the tables and Layala close to blocking her path when hands slid around her waist and wrist and swung her around. Her heart lurched and she nearly jerked away but Hel gripped her firmly. Seeing him, her curiosity and anger simultaneously piqued.

He didn’t ask, didn’t so much as whisper a word as he pulled her into the sea of dancing couples, blending into the steps without missing a beat. If it wouldn’t cause a scene, she’d smack him and tear out of his arms. With worried wide eyes, Layala searched for Thane; Varlett slid between him and Leif.

“Don’t worry, she won’t hurt him,” Hel said. His black mask brought out his red irises.

Layala glared, trying to pull her hand out of his. “She almost killed him. I don’t trust her. Let me go.”

With his palm on her lower back, he tugged her closer as they stepped in smooth unison. “She won’t. I forbid it.”

“She told me you and her had a falling out because she craved more power and so did you. What makes you think she’d listen to you? She cares about herself.”

“That isn’t why.” He flashed pretty white teeth. “How did War like your dress?”

“He said I looked beautiful.”

“It looked like he said a lot more than that. He remembered. Did you?”

Her brows lifted, realizing he’d watched them from the crowd. Layala searched his piercing eyes, more maroon tonight rather than such a deep red. As if under a spell, she found she couldn’t look away, and the longer she held his stare, the faster her heart beat. “No.”

“You know why I think that is? Why he’s remembering and you’re not? Yes, he’s a few years older than you in this life, but he believes he’s War. You still want to be Layala Lightbringer.”

He was right. She wanted to only be in love with Thane, only to be High Queen of Palenor, not goddess of night, not Queen of Villhara, or previously married to Hel. Even if she knew it to be true now, she didn’t want it to be. That meant she shared a bed with this ass before.

“What did you do with your crown I gave back to you in the tower?”

“It’s hidden away where no one will find it.”

“Maybe instead of hiding it you should put it on.”

No, she wanted Palenor to be her home. “What do you want from me?” she asked. “What from my memory is so important?”

“I want you to look at me and see me.”

Layala tilted her head slightly. She knew that wasn’t the truth, at least not the whole truth. “I do.”

“Seeme, Val. Not the Black Mage, not a stranger. I want you to remember the last time we danced together, and you wore that dress. I want you to know why when I look at you, I die a little inside, and...”

“...And?” Layala sounded breathless.

“And why sometimes I wish the council would have had a weapon to kill me for good and put me out of my fucking misery.”

Layala squeezed his hand gently. “Don’t say that.” Everything inside her was screaming at the thought of him dying even though she would have done it herself not long ago.

That vulnerability she witnessed for the briefest moments faded and the smug mask returned. “I’m much too bitter and vindictive to die now, love.”