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Inside, floating orbs provided a warm, ambient glow amidst the branches of even more towering indoor trees draped in fragrant, wisteria-like blooms. They formed a red, drooping curtain that arched over a long, finely laid table dressed in gold satin.

A thick ribbon of seemingly barren twigs buried in soft loam cut a dividing line down the table’s length, at first at odds with the otherwise overwhelming splendor of the room.

But as the guests filed in, fresh buds began forming, dotting the once-barren twigs with signs of new life.

By the time Skye took his seat, those buds and blooms had assembled, forming tiny trees, shrubs, and a carpet of flowers. There were even birds, crafted from water, darting and weaving between the miniature branches as they stretched out and divided.

Taly sat beside Kalahad at the head of the table with Ivain across from her.

The rest of them were scattered. It wasn’t unusual for the host to break up parties.

After all, what good were these sorts of functions if not for forming new alliances?

Still, Kalahad was toeing the line placing Skye at nearly the opposite end of the table as his date.

Up and down, rivaling noble houses exchanged pleasantries, veiling their political ambitions behind polite smiles.

Almost every major family had representation, albeit mostly at the lower tiers of their internal hierarchies.

Envoys, sent ahead to prepare their House’s interests ahead of the Aion Gate crossing, and whose objective remained largely unchanged, siege or no siege.

Skye could feel it in the air, smell it—the hunger .

Those with power had the luxury of resting on their laurels. Everyone else had to work to climb, and the siege presented a… unique opportunity—a chance to wrest away control of an asset that Ivain had in their eyes and, more importantly, the eyes of their family elders hoarded for himself.

Whoever controlled Tempris controlled the flow of trade to the mortal realm.

It was a major moment of commerce when the two halves of the Imperium came back together.

Until now, through a combination of Sarina’s political maneuvering and strategic shows of force, Ivain had managed to keep other noble presences out.

But now there was a chink in his armor.

All around, beneath the veneer of courtesy, alliances were being formed and broken, loyalties shifting. They might’ve been in trouble if not for Sarina. Even after so many centuries away from court life, she exerted complete and total command of the room.

People flocked to her. Those milling about stopped to listen as she held court. This was her battleground. She likely already knew the names of every person in attendance, the seating arrangements, the menu, the entertainment, before ever stepping foot inside.

Now, she levied that knowledge to charm everyone around her.

Sir, with all due respect, your estate’s vineyards could only dream of producing a wine with the complexity and depth found in your character.

Oh, but my lord, if we were all judged by our ancestors’ deeds, I dare say we’d be a room full of saints and sinners, with little between!

She made each one feel seen. Heard. Appreciated . She tickled their vanity, and they responded with delighted preening.

They let their guard down. That was the moment she struck.

Some say there are gatherings in the night, where loyalty to my brother is questioned. It’s strange, though, how names never seem to surface. One does wonder who attends such meetings.

And then the names spilled forth. Rumors. Whispers. She collected them all.

Laughter rippled across the table, blending with the muted symphony of cutlery and the soft pop of a cork being pulled from a bottle of wine.

The rustling of fabric, the creaking of wood as people adjusted in their seats, the delicate clinking of silverware against porcelain, the hiss of the firelamps rising over the incessant buzz of aether running through the walls, even the shivering of leaves from all the many trees caging them in from all sides—it all served as a backdrop for the subtle, chaotic thrum of a hundred different hearts all beating at once as a hundred sets of lungs scraped air in and out.

Normally, Skye could filter the clamor, but tonight, it pressed against him like a closing fist. It took effort to pick apart the noise—one by one, dragging each grating, jarring sound from the mess, like prying glass from a wound.

Eventually, the worst of it dulled. Not gone, not quiet, but pushed just far enough to breathe.

He lifted a forkful of greens to his mouth.

He was starving—even more so than usual.

Not surprising considering the strain he’d put his body through.

He ate quickly, efficiently, with just enough civility to avoid raised eyebrows.

“Hmm,” he said to the woman beside him, still yammering on.

She was one of the frequencies he’d removed.

He knew her. They never ran in the same circles but sometimes came close enough to wave.

She stank of roses. His eyes watered from the overwhelming amount of perfume she’d doused herself in as she leaned in closer, her words a never-ending stream of flattery and intrigue.

She spoke of alliances, of her family’s connections—of favors she could bestow while her lashes, tipped with red and unnaturally long, fluttered.

She wasn’t an envoy. She’d come to Tempris for an opportunity of a different kind. To her, he was the prize.

“Oh my Shards, can’t you see, Ruilla? You’re boring him to tears,” said a familiar voice.

Skye pulled back his focus from where he’d been listening to his brother, seated five chairs down, as he subtly pried apart a couple for no other reason than the fun of it. He gave the new arrival his full attention.

“Adalet,” he said.

Skye had known she’d made it back to Ryme, but he hadn’t seen her since that night in Della when he’d been so jealous of Taly flirting with some damn trader that he couldn’t see past the end of his own nose.

She’d changed since then. Her dark hair had been cut into a short, choppy cap, smoothed behind her ears, and accented by a crown of jeweled hawthorn berries that swept the wildest pieces away from her striking face.

She wore a white dress with red embroidery, the heavy brocade fitted to skim her curves.

Skye felt it like a tickle between his shoulder blades. He didn’t often get this… sensation. He was a shadow mage. Matured beyond the delicacy of youth and pretty damn impervious. He rarely had cause to be concerned for his own safety. Yet, he retained a keen instinct for recognizing danger.

He was sure that if he turned around right now, Taly would be staring at him with murder in her eyes.

Jezebel .

At least, that’s what he assumed the irate, bloodthirsty wave of psychic energy that came shuddering down the bond was supposed to mean.

“Move, Ruilla,” Adalet demanded. “You threw out your line. He’s not biting. Go make better use of the rest of your night.”

Ruilla gaped like a fish at the audacity. She looked to Skye for backup, clearly overestimating the effectiveness of her charms. A single, bored glance was all it took for him to convey his utter indifference.

A huff. Then she rose and curtseyed, eyes downcast. But when they raised again, it wasn’t defeat that he saw. It was fanaticism, bright and sharp.

Crown chasers. No matter how many times he sent them packing, how mean he was in his dismissal, they never gave up. Each rejection only seemed to embolden them.

It was precisely the reason he’d been drawn to Adalet. Like anyone else at court, she had her ambitions, but they’d never included him. They were simply two people passing time together.

A waiter placed a fresh glass of wine in front of Adalet as she gracefully deposited herself in the newly vacant seat. Taly’s glare would’ve incinerated him if not for the anti-flame enchantments woven into his suit.

“You’re putting me in a lot of danger right now.”

Adalet looked around for the reason, her eyes finally landing on Taly. Never one to cower, she smiled and waved.

“And now you’re trying to get me killed.” Through the bond, Skye could feel Taly’s ire rising to new, impossible heights.

“Oh, I’m doing quite the opposite. She’s going to come to you tonight filled with jealous fury and looking to stake a claim. You’re welcome. ”

The idea alone was enough to make him shiver. And presented enough of a temptation to make him want to flirt with danger.

“She cleans up well,” Adalet said, sipping her wine. “I don’t feel quite so slighted now seeing who you’ve decided to replace me with in your bed.”

This was a different tune than the one she’d been singing when they last parted. When he’d cut their night short after realizing just how monumentally he’d fucked up.

“Why are you being so quiet?”

Skye sipped his wine stiffly. “I’m afraid you’ll throw another shoe at me.”

Adalet rolled her eyes. “So dramatic.”

“You put a dent in my forehead.”

“I was in a bad place,” she insisted. “Achard… well. You know what happened with Achard. He ran off with my dowry. I mean, literally. When the shades came, he grabbed his little human bitch and barricaded himself in our rooms. Wouldn’t let me in.

I was still pounding on the door like a lunatic when one of those monsters grabbed me by the hair. ”

Skye grimaced and wondered if that was the reason she’d cut it. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. The only thing worse than being left to die by the man you love is being pitied for it. And I did love him, you know.”

“I do.”

Adalet took a long, shaky breath and an even longer sip of wine. She finished the glass, held it out, and the waiter was instantly there to replace it with another. “Enough with bad memories. That’s not why I came over to talk to you.”

“I thought you came to save me from Ruilla.”

“Well, yes, there was that. Poor thing, you looked like you were falling asleep. But I… I don’t like how we left things.”

“I don’t either,” Skye admitted.

“What I said about your friend, I—well, I’m sorry.

I was so terribly miserable that night, and then there you were.

Yet another man I was losing to a human breeder .

” Skye’s lips thinned. “Sorry,” she said.

“I still have some bitterness I’m working through.

And I mean, it’s not like I didn’t know what I was walking into.

Even from across the room, I could see the way you looked at her, like she was the center point of your gravity. I knew who she was immediately.”

One corner of Skye’s mouth twitched. “I don’t talk about her that much.”

“You really do. All these years, it was like watching one of those tragic plays unfold right before my eyes.”

Denial, thy name was Skylen.

He was a very dumb man.

“Can we please be friends again?” Adalet pleaded.

There had never been anything between them that went beyond sex. But after so many years, perhaps…

“Friends.” He could live with that.

“Oh, thank the Shards. You’re the only person here worth talking to. Let’s gossip. Starting with, can you believe this party?”

“I know, right.”

Indeed, they could’ve been back in Ghislain.

As Skye looked around the banquet hall, he could’ve been sitting at the table of any one of the extravagant parties thrown by his family.

The menu bordered on excessive—exquisite dishes prepared with the finest ingredients in large enough portions to satisfy appetites accustomed to overindulgence.

The decorations were a feast for the eyes—and a pointless waste of aether in an environment too depleted of ambient magic to sustain them for more than a few hours.

The tiny forest, for example, its leaves now turning from green to vibrant orange and red as the main course was served—it was a show of extravagance for extravagance’s sake alone. By dessert, they would have the pleasure of seeing that miracle of life wither and decay.

Skye supposed if the nobility could be depended on for one thing, it was to carry on as if nothing had changed when the world outside was burning.

A waiter placed a plate in front of Adalet, then Skye, moving his way down the table.

Roasted wyvern flank drizzled with butter and herbs.

She stared at her plate with something akin to longing.

There was a fleeting moment where it seemed she might disregard good manners and dive in.

“This is the first time I’ve had meat in three weeks. He must have hunters.”

“Outside the wall?”

“Yes. Myridan too. I hear they’ve been sending men out.”

“How?” Ivain controlled every way in and out of the city. No one was allowed to send out hunting parties. It had been deemed—

“Excuse me!” The sharp ting-ting-ting of metal rapping against glass brought the roar of conversation to a halt.