Page 28

Chapter 25

IRIS

The outdoor gardens for the festivities were twice the size of those we’d strolled earlier in the day—more extravagant, more opulent.

Night-blooming flowers lined the walkways and fountains, unfurling as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air carried the scent of freshly baked bread and a medley of spices, weaving through the lively music that filled the space. Many guests had already indulged in the libations, their laughter growing louder, movements looser.

Kel and I walked arm in arm, crossing one of the bridges spanning the streams that wove through the grounds. My eyes swept the crowd, searching for Aspen, but there was no sign of that familiar crop of snow-white hair.

Theon, however, was nestled in a shadowed corner, deep in conversation with an auburn-haired woman—confirmation enough that the prince had arrived.

Irritation prickled beneath my skin, sharp as a blade. Aspen knew how vital tonight was, and his absence spoke volumes.

Aspen had not been pleased after our meeting with the queen—furious that I had veered from the carefully laid plan and declared our supposed affection. He’d been livid that I hadn’t included him in the strategy. But I couldn’t ignore his lack of faith in my ability to sway the queen in our favor.

Kel’s words only confirmed what I already knew: she would be far more open to helping if our courtship was rooted in devotion rather than duty.

Our shouts had echoed through the chambers we were meant to share, until Theon’s booming voice cut through the storm. He had barked that he’d had enough of our “antics,” commanded us to “ remedy our differences” by nightfall, and then forcibly removed Aspen from the room.

Now, it seemed I would be leading this mission alone.

After bidding Kel farewell, I wove through the crowd, plucking a glass of sparkling wine from a passing tray. A dark-haired woman complimented my gown, drawing me into a discussion about Vaelithe.

I parried with practiced ease, filling gaps in the conversation with stories from Gideon and Sarek, my own fragmented memories of Vaelithe layering over them. These days, I only ventured into Vaelithe proper after dark—when I knew I could do so freely.

Another guest—a merchant—lamented the difficulty of transporting goods from Vaelithe and Kacidon to the inner cities of Marikaim. The mountain pass was treacherous, deterring all but the most desperate travelers. I assured him that Kacidon would address the concern in due time, then moved on.

Theon remained in his corner, though now, there was no space between him and the auburn-haired Ethera. Neither of them seemed eager to come up for air. Good. He more than deserved it.

The evening unfurled in the same manner—drink, conversation, fleeting glances for the ever-elusive prince.

When night fully fell, so too did restraint.

Dancing overtook the space—some traditional waltzes, others more relaxed, debauched displays of movement. I sipped another glass of wine, dodging several invitations to join.

At the edge of the revelry, a man I had already declined to dance with reappeared.

“ Come on ,” he slurred, swaying unsteadily.

“No, thank you.” I smiled politely, sidestepping him.

A rough hand clamped around my wrist, yanking me back.

My fist clenched, but his grip only tightened as I pulled my arm away.

“ Let’s go, Vaelithe sl ?—”

“ Get your fucking hands off her .” A familiar growl, cold as death—came from the shadows, as a blast of frigid wind knifed through the air.

Pinpricks of ice danced across my skin, the familiar presence needling into my awareness before I even turned.

Aspen was already between us.

One arm outstretched, shielding me. The other wreathed in frost, fingers locked around the man’s collar. Spiderwebs of ice crawled up his neck, lips tinged blue as he grappled for air.

“No is a full fucking sentence,” Aspen rumbled before shoving the man away. “Learn it.”

The drunk, to his credit, fled immediately.

“You needn’t be so harsh,” I hissed, dragging Aspen into the shadows.

His gaze swept over me, and I didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on the slits along my thighs. Felt it drag up the length of bare muscle.

Heat bloomed low in my stomach at the hunger in his stare, raw in a way I’d never seen before.

“You’re right,” he ground out, his ice-shard eyes meeting mine. “I should have been far more harsh.”

“Are you truly incapable of being civil?” I hissed. “Shall I procure another babysitter since Theon is occupied?”

“I will not allow any disrespect of my future wife.”

“Oh, how very sensible of you,” I retorted. “There was no one around to prove our farce to!”

“I do not need anyone around to do so.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I am well aware,” he said darkly “I, however, am incapable of sensibility around you.”

Our voices were hushed, but the tension between us felt like the ghost of our earlier shouting match.

“He could have been with the Order. That could have ruined our chances of meeting with the Linguistic.”

“If that’s the case, we’ll find another way. I will not negotiate with men like him.”

“I have a purpose here, Gavalon. Things I’m fighting for you could never understand.”

“I understand the debt,” he ground out. “I’m well aware why you’re assisting us.”

“This is so far past the debt,” I scoffed. “You know, I would’ve helped your people. If anyone had thought to simply ask before forcing me here.” I counted my breaths, slipping my arm into his. “I’d never have turned my back on them.”

Suprise flicked across his grimace. As if he’d never considered the possibility that someone would help Kacidon without a magically binding contract.

I tugged him to my side, plastering a smile before continuing. “This is my purpose. Nothing is more important to me. If you refuse to help, get the hells out of my way.”

I leaned in, breath ghosting his ear. To all the rest of the party, we could be exchanging sweet nothings. “Or I will do it for you.” I straightened, pulling him behind me out of the shaded corridor. “Let’s go. We need to make up for your lost time.”

“I’ve been here the entire party.”

“So, you’ve been inclined to ignore me, then?” I huffed a laugh.

“One could never ignore you, Virlana. Even if they tried.”

“ Try harder. ”

“I have.”

We stepped back into the heart of the celebration, moving as a seamless unit—greetings, polite laughter, flirtation woven into the night like silken threads. But beneath it, we argued in hushed, biting tones, smiles still plastered across our faces.

“You do nothing but ignore me, Gavalon,” I said, waving towards the woman from Vaelithe as we passed.

“You do nothing but get under my skin, Virlana.” Aspen tipped his head towards a couple we had already spoken to about their favorite sweet delicacies.

“ Me ?” I barked a laugh.

“Yes, you . I’m convinced you’ve made it your mission at this point.”

“Coming from the man who cannot have a simple conversation without becoming an uppity stoic afterwards.”

“ Uppity ?”

“Yes, Prince, we understand. This is beneath you.” His spine straightened, almost imperceptible had I not somehow become attuned to his idiosyncrasies.

“Well, I do understand why it would be hard to believe we would need an arranged marriage.” Arrogance dripped from his words.

“Yes,” I hissed. “Your personality surely makes such an engagement questionable.”

“No, Virlana. I am simply far too handsome.”

“Maybe they will give us permission out of pity for me. On account of having to endure your ego.”

The music shifted, the beginning notes of a traditional composition starting to play.

He ignored my remark, leaning so close his breath brushed across the shell of my ear. Eucalyptus. Lavender. “Not to mention you are far too exquisite for any of it.”

Kel gestured us towards the center of the floor where two lines were forming, partners on either side facing each other.

“Duty calls, Gavalon,” I uttered, dragging Aspen toward the floor, ignoring the heat searing every inch of my skin.

I watched those around us for several beats as they stepped in and out, hands outstretched. My movements were stiff while I mirrored the steps, but after turning the wrong way for the third time, Aspen started silently mouthing the steps.

In and out we moved, the rhythm settling into my bones as another stanza began.

Aspen’s fingers twitched as we circled each other, a hairs breadth of space between our palms. The new position had me craning to look up at him, and I let out a breath to steady myself. His eyes locked on the movement, never wavering, even as the column of his throat bobbed.

He leaned in, impossibly close, to murmur, “Why didn’t you wear the dress I obtained for you?”

We switched sides as he finished, and the change in position caused my body to tense.

I blinked, nearly stumbling.

“I’m sorry?” I asked, not processing his question. Painful familiarity jarred the next spin, dizziness swallowing my attempt to reorient to the room we were in. To grasp the present.

“It was purple.”

I barely heard him, his words washing over some distant shore I wasn’t a part of anymore.

A roaring tore through me, rushing to the surface until my entire body shook in time with my racing heartbeat.

In . One. Out . One.

I felt my body moving as I grappled for air, circling Aspen as I clung to my senses.

Marikaim. We were in Marikaim. Spices and incense. Rushing water. Silk gowns.

I turned again, the ghost of a hand on my back, when something cracked open in my mind.

Blurred, jagged visions.

Flashes of gold. White. Children’s laughter.

One song, played by two different orchestras.

They crashed together in discordant waves.

My lungs wouldn’t expand. I was in Marikaim, and then I wasn’t.

My head was going to burst.

I clawed for the present, trying desperately to clear my sight.

The room tilted.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered before fleeing.

Aspen’s voice followed me. His boots pounded stone.

I gripped the railing of a balcony, gasping for air. Below, the waterfall roared.

“Virlana?” His voice was distant, as if he belonged to a life I had long since left behind.

“Iris, are you all right?”

I opened my eyes, nearly jumping. He was close. So close, I could lean forward, and our noses would brush.

His eyes searched rapidly. “What was that?”

A memory. A dream.

More flashes.

For some reason, they hurt. Not physically, but the inability to see them, to catch them before they floated away.

It tore through me with bleeding anguish. I hadn’t realized I was shaking until he placed his hands on my shoulders, squeezing gently. I melted into his grip, my pulse slowing.

Healed lines curved around the planes of his face, the overlapping lines of scars the only thing I could make out through the flashes of searing brightness.

Echoes of laughter.

I anchored myself to each dent and dip along his skin, tracing a new scar on each inhale. He continued applying gentle pressure to my arms, nodding slowly. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed in that position, but he didn’t move until I sighed deeply, nodding back.

“What was that?” he asked again, quietly. “What’s going on?”

“I…” I searched for an explanation, but none came. “I don’t know.”

The sensation was fading too fast, slipping through my grasp like mist. I reached for the pieces that flitted away.

I yearned for them.

“What can I…” He brushed a damp curl from my forehead, twirling it around his finger before letting it drop. His fingers were icy, and I sighed at the relief from the sweltering heat.

Something had stirred the moment we moved—an ember slumbering deep within. Except, I’d never learned that dance, much less performed it. Still, it spurred… something. Something I could almost remember if I reached far enough, but…also something I had no recollection of.

A dream? A nightmare?

“I don’t know,” I admitted.