Page 203

No bonfires were burning there, unsurprisingly.

In the light of the plump moon, the world below us was all blue and silver, mirroring the starry sky. It was in that same monochrome glow that finally – the constellations shifted, the moon past its highest point already – our destination loomed up from the darkness, grand and desolate at once. Rugged mountains, wild gardens. Crumbled walls and towers, rising from their cliff with the stubbornness of a wounded warrior refusing to die.

The Cobalt Court.

I looked up at Creon and found him smiling – a quiet, fragile smile more beautiful than even the island waiting for us.

Alyra woke up as we descended and shot out from the hollow of my shoulder, making straight for the cliffs in a streak of white. Creon followed more slowly as he carried me down to the dizzying precipice of the cliffs, the same spot Beyla had once brought me to so I could sneak into the ruins through the back door. Little had changed since then – but the faint iridescentshimmer around the court had vanished, that flimsy glimpse of magic I’d caught from the corner of my eye whenever I had visited the castle before.

Ahead of us, Alyra soared into the gardens without any sign of trouble, disappearing into the maze of trees.

‘The shield is gone,’ I whispered as Creon’s feet touched the ground, lightly like a leaf drifting down. ‘It must have dissolved when she died.’

He put me down, flexed his arms and shoulders a few times as he folded in his wings, then said, ‘There are upsides to being able to access one’s home without magic tricks, I suppose.’

Home.

I turned back to the ruins looming before us. Bare, crumbling towers, vines of ivy claiming the weathered stones for themselves … but then there were the elegant arched windows, glass gone but the ornate carvings around them still recognisable. The wildflowers thriving in the gardens. The cracked marble of the floors behind these blue-grey granite walls, the faded mosaics waiting to be found beneath layers of dust and sand.

It had never stopped being beautiful, this place. Its beauty simply lay dormant, ready for a touch of magic to wake it again.

‘So,’ I muttered, unable to tear my eyes away from the beckoning walls, ‘how about a bedroom with an ocean view?’

Creon let out a low laugh beside me. ‘As long as it has a balcony, I’m fine with any view. And that tower on the left would be a good base for an observatory, if we build it high enough.’

Yes.Yes.The shapes of restored towers and galleries were drawing themselves in the night air before me, shifting with my thoughts, blooming as my plans unfolded. ‘We could put the library in that wing, too, don’t you think? And then move all the guest rooms to the other side, so people can read their books inpeace even if we have a few dozen alves around. And obviously we need a ridiculously large main hall somewhere …’

‘I’ve seen paintings of an utterly decadent entrance hall,’ Creon dryly said. His eyes were shining when I glanced at him, his hair still ruffled from the long flight – a face begging for my hands to wrap around it and pull him in for a kiss. ‘It’s all gone now, though, so—'

‘You’re not going to suggest building asmallentrance hall instead, are you?’ I said with mock outrage, tucking my arm through his and pulling him with me as I began hurrying towards the ruins. ‘Clearly, the only reasonable thing to do is to make it even larger and even more decadent. Hovering flights of stairs, a house-sized chandelier …’

He snorted a laugh. ‘High stained-glass windows depicting your grand and heroic deeds …’

‘I was rather thinking of stained-glass windows depicting your face from various angles,’ I said as earnestly as I could manage. Under my feet, the old stones creaked with every step, and pieces of rubble and shards of glass crunched. ‘Might as well show visitors the best our household has to offer, wouldn’t you say?’

His eyebrow quirked dangerously. ‘I don’t think my face is what you’re looking for, then, cactus.’

Gods have mercy – I should have seen it coming, and yet there was no keeping my voice down at that image, the grand and serene Cobalt Court restored in all its glory, proudly displaying a ten-foot glass phallus straight above its entrance. ‘We arenot—’

‘Think of what Agenor would say, though,’ he interrupted, with a sideways glance suggesting that was a perfectly reasonable argument.

‘Reminding me of my father isnothow you convince me to immortalise your cock in our windows, Creon!’

He looked even more reasonable. ‘Who is talking about cocks? I was suggesting putting Alyra’s likeness in there – imagine what the snakes would do if they saw her.’

I tried to shove him. Unfortunately, it turned out that even while walking, his muscular body was far too solid to be easily toppled; I all but flung myself to the ground instead, tripping over my feet and an inopportune chunk of marble, and ended up stumbling against his lean chest, held up only by our intertwined arms.

He laughed out loud. ‘Are youthatimpatient to get closer to the sculpted glory of my presence, Your Majesty?’

‘Oh, go to hell,’ I sputtered, making valiant attempts to regain my balance and step back. His arm slipping around my waist wouldn’t let me. ‘Don’t “Your Majesty” me, and also, you can’t just describeyourselfas sculpted and glorious, you arrogant wretch.’

‘I can’t?’ He blinked innocently, eyes gleaming in the moonlight. ‘Am I supposed to lie, then?’

It really was unfortunate how closely the feeling of justified outrage resembled the heated flush of arousal, the sudden warmth brewing where we were pressed together. With the thought of his naked body – stained glass or otherwise – still vividly present in my mind, it took all I had to huff and grumble, ‘I’d describe your presence as passable at best. Adequate. Perfectly acceptable to look at, if I were in a generous mood.'

‘Hmm,’ he muttered, arm tightening at the small of my back to press me against his muscular body. His other hand wrapped around my cheek, tilting my head to bring our faces mere inches away from each other – close enough to distinguish his long lashes in the darkness, the sharp shadows playing over his jaw, the dangerous twist of his lips. In the moonlight, his smile was like a whispered secret. ‘And I suppose it’s that same passable face that makes you think of my cock all day, is it?’

‘I do no such thing!’ It sounded like a lie, quite possibly because itwasa lie. His body was too damn hot against me. His smirk too damn suggestive. And I was far, far too familiar with the object of discussion tonotsee it in my mind’s eye at the slightest mention, to not feel its phantom weight imprinted in my palms … ‘You’re the one who started insinuating all kinds of vulgarities!’