Page 7

Chapter Seven

Aleksander

I stop outside Asha’s study, where Commander Titanus stands as still and silent as a statue, his shoulders straight, his chin lifted in that proud way of his.

Over the last few weeks, he’s been Asha’s ever-present shadow—always hovering near her.

I wonder if the man even sleeps or if he just stands there through the night, guarding her door. There’s devotion, then there’s obsession.

Titanus crossed that line long ago when it comes to Asha. Not that I can blame him.

With a nod toward the commander, I step into her study, where she sits hunched over her desk, her eyes fixed on the sketch she keeps close.

My chest tightens, even though I have seen her looking at her son before, but there’s something about the way she stares, as if she’s waiting for a miracle—one that brings her son back to her.

“You know, if you stare at it long enough, the paint might start peeling off.” I slide into the chair across from her, propping my feet up on her pristine desk.

She doesn’t even blink. “Get your boots off my papers.”

“Make me.” I flash her my most winning smile, the one that usually gets me what I want. “Come on, Ashes. You’ve been cooped up in here since dawn.”

“Don’t call me that,” she says, still not looking up.

I shift, reach across, and gently take the portrait from her hands. “He had your eyes.”

“Don’t—”

“—and probably your stubbornness too.” I set the portrait aside. “Which means he wouldn’t want his mother wasting away in this musty room. When’s the last time you went riding? I hear there’s a new stallion in the stables that no one can tame.”

“Are you suggesting I can’t tame him, Aleksander?” There’s that spark in her eyes, the one I’ve been trying to ignite.

“I’m suggesting you need to stop punishing yourself. Besides…” I stand and offer her my hand, “…I bet you five gold coins you can’t stay on that horse for more than a minute.”

Defiance glints in her eyes as she stands and takes my arm. “Ten says I’ll have him gentled by sunset.”

“Prove it,” I say as I walk to the door and hold it open for her.

Asha steps out of the room and strides down the palace corridor, her curls bouncing with each step, but it’s not her beauty that catches my breath—though the gods know she’s striking enough. No, it’s the way she moves, like she owns every inch of the stone beneath her feet.

The servants bow as we pass, their eyes full of respect. That’s the difference between Asha and most nobles I know. She commands loyalty through strength of character, not threats.

I’ve seen her in council meetings, outmaneuvering men twice her age without raising her voice, and I’ve watched her train with her soldiers, earning their devotion through sweat and skill rather than birthright.

As we round the corner, Breda scurries past, her arms full of freshly laundered linens. Her eyes catch mine, and that familiar, warm smile spreads across her face. I give her my customary nod.

Sweet, simple Breda. Always eager to please. She’s the perfect source of information about the palace’s inner workings. After one kind word from me, she spilled more secrets than any spy I could plant.

“Someone’s smitten,” Asha says after Breda disappears down the corridor.

I roll my eyes. “I simply understand the value of keeping the servants happy. You’d be amazed at what people will tell you when they think you care.”

“And here I thought you might actually have a heart under all that calculation.”

“A heart?” I hold my hand to my chest in mock offense. “How dare you suggest something so ordinary?”

“You’re impossible.” Asha shakes her head, but I catch the slight curl of her lips.

She pauses at a window, where the sunlight catches her profile, and for a moment, I see what others might miss—the steel beneath the grace, the fire behind those blue eyes. She reminds me of a sword forged beneath a blacksmith’s hammer. It’s stronger for the tempering, just like she is.

“Are you coming, or are you planning to stare all day?” She throws the words over her shoulder as she resumes her walk through the corridors.

I quicken my pace to catch up and grin over at her.

She shoves her hair over her shoulders. “What are you smiling about?”

“You,” I answer honestly.

Now that I have been around her for over a month, I understand why her people follow her…and I might just do the same.