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Memnon?I say, reaching down our bond.

Thank the gods.He sounds audibly relieved.Where are you?

I push back my cinnamon-colored hair and look around again. The past day rushes back to me all at once. The miscarriage, the burial, the ley line, and…

Your father’s river palace, I murmur as the heaviness begins to sink in once more.

My father’swhat?

The palace he gave us. I’m there.

There’s a long pause.

How did you get there?Memnon finally asks, wary.

I…used a ley line.

I can sense his shock, followed by his deep confusion.

Instead of voicing any of it, he simply says,I’m coming.

I meander through the palace, my footsteps echoing against the stone floor, looking at the space all over again with new—albeit,sadder—eyes. The marble trees and the carved flowers. The gold detailing that seems to make everything glimmer. Everything mimics the natural world, yet none of it is alive.

Like the first time I visited this place, no one is here. No guards, no servants, no tenants besides me. Yet there is wine waiting in blown-glass bottles and bowls of fresh fruit and even a warm loaf of bread, the yeasty smell of it wafting from the kitchen. But no people.

Only then do I really notice the magic clinging to this place—to the walls and floors, to the bottles of wine, to the fruit and even the yeasty bread.

I wander over to one such bowl of fruit and peer down at it, studying the magic that coats the items. It is lilac in color but so pale I hardly see it, and when I tilt my head, I swear it changes colors to the softest pink.

Strange.

The echoing tread of boots on the polished marble floor distracts me.

I straighten. “Memnon?”

Just as I speak his name, he steps into the doorway to the kitchen, still clad in what he wore this morning. My gaze scans his body, looking for any signs of injury from his most recent battle. There’s isn’t so much as a speck of blood on him. Worry, however, pinches his eyes and tightens his mouth.

The moment he sees me, his entire body seems to relax.

“Roxi.” Both relief and concern are wrapped into that single word.

Closing the distance between us in a few short strides, he cups my face. I can feel his hands trembling as he kisses me fiercely.

Are you all right?I ask down our bond.

No, he says simply.

I’m about to respond when I hear the click of claws on marble, then feel the brush of fur against my hand. Ferox’s familiar, wet snout nuzzles my hand, and I run my hand over his head.

You brought Ferox with you?Emotion clogs my throat.

“Mmm,” Memnon assents against my lips.He wouldn’t leave my side.

Even once the kiss ends, Memnon doesn’t let me go, instead gathering me into his arms, holding me close—so, so close, I can hear the rapid pound of his heart.

“I couldn’t find you,” he whispers against my hair, burying his face deeper into it, like it will suffocate his worries. “No one could. Not even Ferox, who was as agitated as I’ve ever seen him. And when you weren’t at the”—his voice catches—“grave, and you weren’t answering me…” Memnon goes quiet, holding me close, his body trembling with his emotion.

I thought I lost you too, he finally admits.