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“No.”

My voice is sharp, like a blade honed to a razor’s edge. It nearly cuts my tongue as it bursts from my throat. I rise to my feet and turn, looming over her. Her defiant eyes meet mine, but her cheeks pale at sight of my expression. Rage burns in my head in explosive bursts, one after the other. But not rage only. There is passion as well, far hotter, boiling in my gut and lancing through every vein.

“There is no going back.” I take several aggressive steps toward her. She starts to shrink but forces herself to stand her ground. “For days now I’ve been telling myself what is done can be undone between us. But it’s all a lie.” My hand begins to stretch out, whether to catch her by the hand or the throat, I cannot say. I stop myself, fist clenching. “The truth is,” I growl, “when I spoke those vows to you, I committed myself in some vital way that cannot simply be forsworn.”

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I’d just declared undying love. But I haven’t. This is no lover’s confession, merely a statement of fact. Inconvenient and infuriating fact.

Ilsevel’s eyes seem to vibrate in her skull as she struggles to discern my features by the light of a few predawn stars. Her lips part, drawing in a strangled breath. Then: “Did you mean what you said? During thevardimnar?”

“What?” I frown and turn my head slightly to one side. “What did I say?”

“That you would always be here for me.”

Something in my gut twists. “I never said that.”

“You did.”

“No. Because it’s simply not possible.”

A flash of anger replaces the fear in her eyes. “If it’s not possible, why did you say it?”

I throw up my arms. “I never did!”

You did, Vellar.

Elydark’s voice rings in my head, startling me. I jerk my head up, gaze past Ilsevel to where my licorneir stands some twenty yards away, impatiently flicking his long tail.I heard you,he says, in that wordless voice of his.You spoke not in words, but your very soul cried out the truth you will not now admit.

I stare at him, aghast. Is he saying that Ilsevel heard my spirit-song? That she and her damnable gods-gift could discern what I never would have dreamed of saying out loud: that I do not want to give her up. Not now. Not atsilmael.Not ever. That I want to support and love her, to comfort her fears. That I want to be the one she turns to for every desire, every longing, every need.

It's just thevelra, I sing back to Elydark.It’s not real.

Thevelramay influence your actions,he replies relentlessly.It cannot dictate truth to your heart.

I grind my teeth.Whose side are you on, anyway?

He begins to answer, but I snarl wordlessly and throw up my hands. This startles Ilsevel, who staggers back several paces. Ignoring her, I pivot on heel and crush grass underfoot as I storm away. Not far, however. Thevelradrags me to a sudden, painful halt.“Shakh!”I bellow, shaking my fists at the sky.

Oh, gods, what have I done? All the threads of my life and being seem to unravel before me, and my fumbling hands can donothing to catch and weave them back together. The alliance, the coming siege on the citadel, the very future of Licorna . . . I’ve compromised it all. And for what? For her? For . . . love?

It isn’t that. I don’t love her. I can’t. These feelings which have taken root inside me over little more than a week couldn’t be love. It’s nothing but a bizarre combination of lust and responsibility, and yes, some admiration as well. Not to mention the inevitable attachment that must form from having saved her life and being saved by her in return.

But to call it love is impossible. I knew Shanaera for years before I dared admit what my heart was trying to tell me. Only fools believe in an instantaneous connection. And those who act on that belief live to regret it.

No, I don’t love Ilsevel. I simply cannot bear the idea of my life without her. Which isn’t the same thing at all.

I tilt back my head, gazing up at the stars. They seem so much farther away on this side of the river. It’s as though thevardimnarkeeps them at bay. Can Nornala even hear our prayers from this land? Would I know what to pray if she could?

Slowly I turn and look back to where Ilsevel stands between me and Elydark. Her arms are wrapped tight around her body, her cloak blowing in a sudden breeze. Her face is turned away to one side. She looks so small, so lost. And yet her expression, in profile, is as stern and defiant as ever. How this woman pushes me, challenges me at every turn! If she doesn’t make me want to tear my own heart out in fury, she makes me want to tear her clothes off in passion. I’ve never known anyone who simultaneously so infuriated and inflamed me.

But it’s not love. Surely not. She could never be the partner I need, never be the queen Licorna requires. She could never—

Suddenly Ilsevel’s hands drop to her sides. She takes several staggering steps back as though struck, then pauses, tilting her head to one side. She seems to be listening to something. Thenext instant she cries out, her hands upraised as though to ward off some invisible assault.

“Ilsevel?” I take a few steps toward her. “Ilsevel, are you—”

To my surprise, she gathers up her skirts and breaks into a run, heading north, toward where the ground rises and falls in a series of low hills, scattered over with dark patches of trees and undergrowth.

“Ilsevel!”Galvanized, I take off after her, my long legs soon overtaking her smaller stride. I catch and turn her around to face me, gripping her upper arms fast. “Are you mad?” I demand. Fear laces my voice with harshness. “You can’t go running off like that! What if thevardimnarstruck, and you were too far away for Elydark to protect you?”