Page 33

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

N arissa sat in the dining hall of House Celestine with one hand pressed firmly to her chest, trying to soothe the rush of anger funneling down the bond.

She knew Solarius was planning to meet with Ariesian this afternoon, so she could only assume the eldest Starstorm had said something to infuriate her husband.

She’d seen Solarius lose his temper a handful of times, but this…

this all-consuming rage, was entirely new.

And to experience the effect it had on him through the bond was slightly terrifying.

Never would she have thought Solarius capable of taking a life, but in that moment, it seemed as though he wanted nothing more.

Not only that, but it had been impossible to reach his mind.

He’d completely shut her out.

He’d shut everything out.

Helpless to do anything but search him out and perhaps make everything worse, she sat at the dining table with Sarelle and Caelian, pretending to enjoy the cute sandwiches and starberry punch, while acting as though nothing was amiss.

“Tell me, Caelian.” Sarelle lifted her glass of punch and took a sip of the bubbly pink liquid.

“Did you dance with anyone at the Yuletide Ball? That is, after Solarius and our dear Narissa so effortlessly commanded everyone’s attention?”

Sarelle winked and Narissa ducked her head, smiling at the memory of last night—everything from the dance, to traipsing through the garden, to the faerie pool.

“I’m afraid not.” Caelian stared at her plate where the small pile of food remained untouched.

Her silver hair, highlighted with threads of pale pink, icy blue, and lavender, tumbled around her shoulders, hiding most of her face from view.

“I haven’t danced since I…”

Her voice trailed off, but her sister wasn’t letting her dismiss them so quickly.

“Since you saved the life of General Kjeld Holtstrom?” Sarelle suggested softly, her dark gaze flitting over her sister in quiet consideration.

A heavy sigh escaped Caelian then, filled with sharp agony and utter despair.

She plucked at the starburst beads lining the opaque violet sleeves of her gown, then folded her hands in her lap.

“I should never have done it. He hates me for it.” Rubbing her lips together, she pulled her shoulders back and straightened her spine, as though that would somehow erase the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

“I should have let him die.”

Sarelle instantly reached over and grabbed Caelian’s hand.

“No. No, no. Do not ever apologize for saving someone’s life.”

“I was hardly heroic, Sarelle.” Hurt and torment were etched into the smooth planes of Caelian’s face.

“I used magic like a folly. I expelled too much, took too much, wished for too much. I was selfish, thinking only of myself. And now, the stars have taken?—”

But Caelian’s proclamation was silenced as a gust of wind stole through the dining hall.

Ribbons of shimmery sky blue ruffled Narissa’s hair like a breeze, stirring the curtains framing the windows, and caused the faerie fire glowing in the chandelier to flicker.

It carried a crisp, cream envelope sealed with a wax emblem.

The magical flurry of air swirled once, before delicately dropping the envelope into Narissa’s lap.

“Oh!” She turned it over in her hands, running two fingers across the raised wax depicting the crest of House Galefell—pale blue clouds across the outline of a sun—and her stomach sank.

Calfair wouldn’t dare make any contact with her, not after the beating Solarius gave him, but her hands still trembled as she opened it.

“It’s a letter. From Lady Aria Skyhelm.” She pulled out a sheet of parchment with lovely, scrolling script, and quickly read the brief contents.

It appeared Lady Aria required another elixir, one to help with exhaustion and fitful rest.

A sleeping draught would do the trick.

“How curious.” Sarelle cut into her lemon mousse with a spoon.

“I wasn’t aware you and Lady Aria were such good friends.”

There was no jealousy in her tone, but more so an edge of curiosity.

Caution, even.

“Oh, we’re not. At least, not really.” Narissa placed the letter on the table and reached for her punch.

The bright, lively flavors danced across her tongue when she took a sip.

She didn’t miss the pointed look Sarelle sent her.

“I’ve always admired Lady Aria,” Caelian mused, poking at the sandwich on her plate with a fork.

She’d still yet to eat a single thing since lunch was served.

“Her exceptional beauty. The awareness of her own self-worth. And her inexplicable ability to go after exactly what she wants.”

Like one of your brothers , Narissa thought with a small smirk, recalling her conversation with Lady Aria the other day.

“Has she invited you for tea?” Sarelle asked, tilting her head so her raven hair reflected the deepest hue of blue in the afternoon light, illuminated by sprinkles of stardust.

“More or less.” It wasn’t quite a lie, but the words left an acidic flavor on her tongue.

“She’s asked me to this quaint cafe in Galefell. They have the most delicious desserts.”

“How lovely, I do enjoy a good dessert.” It was the first time Caelian had smiled in the entirety of their time spent together.

“As do I,” a smooth male voice sounded from the doorway of the dining hall.

In unison, all three of them looked to see which of the Starstorm brothers had decided to join them, except it wasn’t any of them.

There stood Prince Aspen, looking every inch the esteemed heir to all of Aeramere.

He wore a rich forest green coat, the hem stitched in gold, and a stark white shirt underneath with the collar popped.

The top two buttons were undone, revealing a swath of bronze skin, and a chain with what appeared to be miniature animal skulls dipped in gold hung from his neck.

His pants were black, his boots were polished, and he bent at the waist, bowing deeply.

“Your Highness.” Sarelle jumped out of her seat, nearly spilling her glass of starberry punch all over the oak table.

She lowered herself into a prim, well-practiced curtsy.

“I beg your pardon, we weren’t expecting you.”

Narissa and Caelian followed suit, each dipping into a curtsy, but neither taking their eyes off the prince, whose gaze had yet to trail away from Sarelle.

“Ladies.” Prince Aspen tucked his hands behind his back, his broad shoulders encompassing the whole of the doorway.

A lock of dark brown hair fell across one eye.

“I’ve come to call upon Lady Sarelle.”

Narissa glanced across the table at her friend, only to see Sarelle’s color fade considerably.

She smoothed away a few invisible wrinkles from her satin day dress, the bold hue of blue matching her eyes.

She’d already confided in Narissa that she had not seen the prince in weeks and had very little success in attempting to woo him for Ariesian’s cause.

So, for Prince Aspen to make such an unannounced arrival was rather shocking.

And intriguing.

When she didn’t answer right away, the prince continued speaking without interruption.

“I thought we might take a stroll through the city of Celestine.”

Sarelle’s gaze darted to the nearest window, where the sun was shining brilliantly against a sky of the brightest blue.

It was quite deceiving, for it looked positively lovely, but once outside, the winter season made itself known.

“Are you certain you wish to venture to Celestine?” Sarelle worried her bottom lip and there was the slightest hitch in her voice.

“It’s quite cold today.”

Prince Aspen’s face remained impassive, yet each word was spoken with calculated innuendo.

“I am more than confident in my abilities to keep you warm, Lady Sarelle.”

Narissa swallowed her gasp, and Caelian coughed loudly to cover her giggle of surprise.

Sarelle, however, turned a rather vivid shade of pink.

The furious blush colored her cheeks and nose, chasing away her earlier pallor.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

She excused herself then and Narissa and Caelian watched in awed silence as she tucked her hand into the crook of the prince’s offered arm without another word.

Once their footfalls could no longer be heard, Caelian expelled the breath she’d been holding.

“Narissa,” she breathed, clutching both hands to her stomach, lashes flying back, framing her wide eyes.

“Can you believe that? He just showed up out of the blue, no notice, no warning. Then to speak to her so boldly. And with us present?”

She laughed again, then snorted.

“Honestly.” Narissa pulled her mouth to the side.

“It was as though we weren’t even here. He did not spare us a glance. Not once.”

“Who didn’t dare to spare my beautiful wife a glance?” Solarius’s voice carried from the door as he strode into the dining hall.

Narissa sighed with relief.

She’d been worried about him, hating how he shut her out of his mind, how she’d been blocked and unable to reach him.

But seeing him in the flesh quelled some of her concern.

The moment he wrapped an arm around her waist, she molded into his side.

“Prince Aspen,” Caelian answered, tucking a few stray hairs back behind one ear.

“Prince Aspen?” Solarius looked down at Narissa, then over to his sister and back again.

“Prince Aspen is here? In the house?”

Narissa nodded.

“He called upon Sarelle just moments ago.”

“He what ?”

Caelian rolled her eyes at her brother’s dramatics.

“It’s fine, Sol. He asked her to accompany him for a stroll through Celestine, nothing more. There will be plenty of onlookers milling about, ready to wag their tongues, and spread rumors as soon as they’re both out of earshot.”

But then Caelian’s blue eyes locked onto Narissa, and they shared a look of secrecy—neither of them would hazard mentioning the prince’s implications in regards to Sarelle’s body temperature.

“Still, I wish either myself or Ariesian had been informed of his arrival.” Solarius folded his arms across his chest, a line forming along his brow.

“He should have asked one of us if he intends to court her.”

Again, Caelian snorted, and Solarius’s scowl deepened.

“Please, Sol. He’s the Prince of Aeramere. He doesn’t need your permission to do anything.” She flipped her long hair over one shoulder and gathered her violet satin skirts to depart.

“Besides, it’s not like he asked for her hand. Merely her time.”

She dipped her head then, leaving them alone in the dining hall, and Narissa found that she was pleased to see a glimpse of Caelian’s former self make an appearance.

“What’s this?” Solarius asked, plucking the envelope off the table.

His knuckles whitened the second he caught sight of House Galefell’s crest.

“It’s an invitation from Lady Aria to meet for tea.” Narissa snatched it from his grasp, the corner of her mouth lifting when she saw the heat of desire flash in his eyes.

“She’s in need of a sleeping draught, and I plan on delivering one of mine to her.”

His dark brow arched.

“Do they not have sleeping draughts in Galefell?”

“I am sure they do. But I just so happen to make the best ones.” She shrugged, allowing him a glimpse of skin where her aqua dress slipped off one shoulder.

“Besides, there will also be tea.”

“Fine, but I’m going with you.” Solarius guided her out of the dining hall and into a large corridor where starlight danced along the ceiling and the windows reflected the purplish hue of the Moonfall Peaks.

“The last thing I want is for you to travel to Galefell alone and possibly be anywhere within the vicinity of Calfair Skyhelm without me around to protect you.”

“Okay, well?—”

“And before you object,” he continued, his fingers tracing idle circles along the small of her back.

“I will keep myself busy so as to not intrude upon your time with Lady Aria. Now, when do we leave?”

Narissa smiled up at him, admiring his chiseled jawline, thinking about how she should plant kisses there.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” His hand slid lower, grabbing a handful of her bottom, and squeezing.

“I’ll be there.”

“Do you promise?” she asked, throwing her arms around his neck.

“I promise.”

“Oh, have our things yet arrived from Windsong?” she asked, pretending to ignore the fact that he was shuffling her backward into another alcove hidden away by winterblooms.

“I’m missing my box of personal tonics.”

“I believe so,” he murmured, his lips leaving a heated trail down her neck.

“I can confirm later.”

“Thank you.” Her head fell back against the curving stone wall as his hand hoisted the hem of her gown, dragging it up to her hip.

Warmth blossomed between her legs, and she squirmed when his fingers caressed her upper thigh.

“I need…”

“Tell me what you need, Rissa love.”

“Sol,” she whispered, intending to scold, but she was already reaching for the button on his pants where he strained for her.

“It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

He flashed her a wicked grin.

“My favorite fucking time of day.”

And Narissa let him.