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A thousand different things happened to Cora’s heart in the split second that she realized Teryn stood before her. First was a joyful flip, an automatic response to seeing his green eyes, the tousle of his gold-touched dark hair, the broad expanse of his chest beneath the fine silk jacket he wore. Then came the sinking, the guilt over seeing his frozen posture, the tense set of his shoulders, his look of mild shock. Next, she felt a wave of anxiety along with the reminder that she still didn’t know what to say to him. With the next beat of her rioting heart, Teryn’s composure relaxed and a casual smile crossed his face. That sent a flutter of hope, a fragile, dangerous promise that everything would be all right.

“Princess Aveline,” Teryn said with a bow.

She wasn’t sure if his formality was more of a show for the passing servants or a response to her treatment of him last night. His smile remained present, but it only made her heart shift into a new emotion. This time it was shame. Shame because she knew—regardless of those precious hopes that all would work out as she wished—she wasn’t ready to tell him about the curse.

Still, she couldn’t pretend last night didn’t happen. Nor could she avoid him. Certainly not while he was standing before her. Not when her heart was so tangled with his.

She took a step closer to him. Her muscles tensed, half with dread, half with longing, as she expected him to touch her. So badly she wanted to feel his reassuring embrace. Just as badly she feared she’d fall apart if he so much as held her hand.

But he didn’t. He made no move to reach for her at all. He remained where he was, posture tall and stiff, hands behind his back. Was he merely being respectful after last night? She extended her senses, desperate to read what he was feeling, but she got back…nothing. Perhaps her own frazzled emotions were too loud.

“Teryn, I…” The overwhelming urge to fidget sent her fingers fluttering at her sides, so she folded her hands at her waist instead. She studied his face, as if she could read the words she needed to say, written somewhere on his visage. Her eyes caught on his cheek. The light from the hall window had cast part of him in shadow, but now that she was closer, she noticed a thin slice over his cheekbone. Concern replaced her anxiety. “What happened to your cheek?”

She lifted a hand to his face, but he took a step back. With a timid smile, he covered the wound with his hand. “Ah, that. It’s embarrassing to say, but I accidentally cut myself with the straight razor while shaving. I suppose that will teach me not to travel without my valet.”

“Oh.” She frowned, noting how he hadn’t let her touch him. Releasing a slow exhale, she searched his energy again, seeking whether he was truly shying away out of embarrassment…or if it was something else. Again, she sensed nothing. Not a hint of his emotions.

At least the unexpected topic had managed to banish some of her trepidation. Before her anxiety could return, she blurted out what she needed to say. “I’m so sorry about last night, Teryn. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I was just…dealing with something and I needed time alone.”

He dropped his hand from his cheek. “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he said, but there was something hollow in his words. Was he hiding his hurt after all? He continued to grin but she realized it didn’t meet his eyes. “You were right to ask for space.”

“I…was?”

His expression shifted into one of resignation. Or was it apology? His smile turned sad. “I was wrong to push you into something you weren’t ready for. You accepted my proposal, but I pressured you for more.”

Cora’s brow knit into a furrow. Did he really think she’d asked to be alone last night because she hadn’t been ready for their relationship to progress romantically?

Her heart raced as she spoke the next words. “That’s not it, Teryn. I didn’t ask for space out of some need to pull away emotionally. I…I just didn’t know how to talk to you about what I was going through. But…” She swallowed hard. “I’m ready to talk now.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything.”

Her stomach sank, though she wasn’t sure if it was due to disappointment or relief.

“I trust you,” he said. “You know that, right? You’re free to keep your secrets. I’ll never pry them from you or begrudge you your time alone. Besides, you have important work to do in the tower. It would be selfish for me to keep you from it.”

Her lips flickered between a smile and a frown. While she’d hoped he wouldn’t be too concerned over what had happened last night, she hadn’t expected him to be so accepting. So dismissive. Was he posturing to hide any hurt he may feel? Or was he simply being supportive?

As if he could read the conflict in her expression, his tone turned warm. “My feelings haven’t changed. We have all the time in the world to fall in love. There’s no need to rush.”

Before she could say anything else, he took a step back and gave her another formal bow. When he rose, his eyes danced with mirth, lips quirked in a sideways grin. Then, with nothing more than the word “Highness,” he left.

Cora stood frozen for a few beats more, unsure how to feel about their exchange. Her emotions were still too tangled, too loud. Most of all, her skin felt cold, chilled beneath the broken expectations that she’d at least receive a kiss on the hand, if not a parting embrace. The absence of his touch was as painful as a slap, as was his failure to request her company for some later date. Instead, he’d just…walked away.

He’d given her what she needed though, hadn’t he? The space to finish her work in the tower. Permission to keep her secrets to herself. She’d let that be enough.

In the meantime, she could do what needed to be done.

Clean the tower.

Learn how to break her curse.

She marched from the keep to the tower stairwell and up the stairs. Both guards acknowledged her with a bow of their heads. The room was as she’d left it, the windows having been closed for the night, the hearth filled with nothing but soot.

Summoning the fiery resolve she’d felt earlier, she set everything back in place—donning her apron, opening windows, adding fresh salt to the threshold and sill, tossing her blend of herbs upon the cedar logs in the hearth. Once she was ready to begin her work for the day, she strode to the bookshelf, selected a book, and analyzed its energy. Deeming it safe enough to touch, she brought it to the hearth. But instead of tossing it in the growing flames, she set it on her lap, retrieved her knife from her apron pocket, and flipped open the cover.

This time, without guilt or shame or worry that she was doing the wrong thing, she read.

And read.

And read.

Teryn floated in nothingness, his surroundings shapeless and awash in pale light. He vaguely noted that this must be how it felt to rest his ethera. It was the same sensation he’d had before he’d awoken inside the crystal for the first time. His mind lingered somewhere between rest and consciousness. Thoughts began to sharpen at the edges, forming his last waking memory.

Cora .

Beautiful, fearless, formidable Cora standing in the hall.

Cora, frozen in place as her eyes fell on his body.

Cora, trying to confess a hurt she’d endured.

Cora, crestfallen as Morkai’s retreating footsteps dragged Teryn away from her, forcing him to follow the crystal’s path.

He woke with a jolt and found himself in an unfamiliar place. Instead of the muted gray stone of Ridine’s walls and regal tapestries, he found himself surrounded by pale marble carved in intricate patterns. Rugs covered the floor of the small room, and an array of bright pillows stood in lieu of tables and chairs. To the left was a low bed draped in gauzy curtains that hung from the ceiling, sheets the color of ruby and saffron haphazardly tucked in place.

“This was my bedroom when I was alive.” Emylia’s voice startled him, and he found her suddenly at his side. She was dressed in a sleeveless linen gown the same shade of saffron as the bedsheets. Her curly black hair was pulled into a bun at the top of her head. “I spend most of my time here. Is that all right? Or would you prefer I shape the crystal to mimic your bedroom at Ridine again?”

“It’s fine,” Teryn said, his mind still sharpening from the haze of rest. “But where are we really? Where is Morkai right now? How much time has passed since…” Fear clenched his chest as he realized he couldn’t remember anything after he saw Cora. His ethera must have forced him to rest, just as Emylia had said it would.

“Connect with your vitale first.”

He bit back a curse, but she was right.

With a deep breath, he focused on the feel of air moving through his lungs, the pulse of his blood, the beat of his heart. Calm settled over him.

Only then did Emylia answer his question. “A few hours have passed. King Dimetreus is holding court and Morkai is in attendance.”

“Doing what?”

“Just watching.”

Teryn arched a brow. “That’s all?”

“For now.”

Teryn had expected something more sinister, but as long as he wasn’t anywhere near Cora, he could let himself relax.

Emylia gave him a sympathetic smile. “You’re worried about the princess, aren’t you?”

“How can I not be worried? He’s using my body to marry her and become king. He—” His voice cut off as he recalled Morkai and Cora’s interaction. He’d nearly exploded in a futile rage, expecting Morkai to put his hands on her, to touch her or kiss her the way Teryn would have. Instead, he’d kept his hands behind his back, maintained a steady distance between their bodies. Then there were the things he’d said, telling her she was right to ask for space. The fact that he knew about what had happened between them in the tower last night told him Morkai had indeed been spying on them, the same way Teryn had begun watching Morkai.

But why had he acted so cold?

Teryn faced Emylia. “If Morkai is determined to marry Cora, why did he try to keep her at bay today? Wouldn’t it serve his purposes to keep her close?”

Emylia shook her head. “He will have to ensure your engagement remains secure while avoiding her as much as possible until the marriage contract is signed. Cora is dangerous to him because of her magic. The crystal likely keeps her from reading Morkai’s true emotions, and it might be muting yours as well, but she may grow suspicious if she realizes she can no longer read you.”

“You know about Cora’s magic?”

“I’ve been in this crystal a very long time, and I’ve spent most of my time projecting myself outside of it, watching. I’ve witnessed every moment between her and Morkai, starting with when he first arrived at Ridine Castle. I watched her struggle with her magic as a child, long before she’d learned what she was. But I’ve always known she was a clairsentient witch. A strong one. She’s what my people call an empath.”

“An empath,” Teryn echoed. He remembered Cora saying that word when she’d confessed about her magic. She’d told him about witches and their six sensory magics, said that an empath was a witch with the strongest form of clairsentience.

“I’m from Zaras,” Emylia said, “in the Southern Islands. There we respect magic. Almost everyone feels a connection to at least one of the six sensory magics. The strongest in the Arts train as priests and priestesses at the Zaras Temple. This bedroom was where I lived while training as an acolyte at the temple. I was a promising seer before I died.”

That explained why Emylia knew so much about magic, and perhaps why she could utilize the crystal the way she did. Yet it reminded him just how much he didn’t know about her.

“How did you die? Why did he trap your ethera?”

“He trapped me for the same reason he trapped you. He has plans for me.”

He didn’t fail to note that she hadn’t answered the first part of his question. Was she hiding something? He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you helping me?”

“Our goals are the same,” she said with a shrug. “I want out. I want my soul to be at rest. And there’s only one way to solve both our problems.”

“What’s that?”

“We must destroy the crystal.”

Teryn’s eyes went wide. “How?”

“I don’t know yet,” she said, wringing her hands at her waist. “You need to strengthen your connection to your vitale and cereba first. You’ll likely get only one chance to do what needs to be done. That flinch you created today? You’ll need to do that with your whole body. If you can gain control over your movements, you’ll have a chance at removing the crystal from your body. You must force it at least sixteen inches away, remember? That’s the first step.”

“What will that do?”

“Like I told you, removing the crystal from over your body’s sternum will compromise the connection between Morkai’s heart-center and your cereba. He will fight you for dominance, but without the crystal closing the circuit that gives him primary control, you’ll have an equal chance at retaining motor function. You’ll need to act at once to break the crystal.”

He gave her a pointed look. “Didn’t you tell me it’s unbreakable?”

“Yes, but I’ll work on figuring that part out. For now, you must get strong. You have time. I promise.”

Teryn bristled despite her placating smile. He knew what empty promises sounded like, for he’d delivered his fair share, and hers rang as hollow as an unfilled vase. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t trust her. Right now, it was his only choice. And he did have time, didn’t he? His marriage to Cora wouldn’t commence for another year, and if Morkai was determined to avoid her until then, she’d be safe in the meantime. He’d be able to free himself before then.

Right?

Yes . He affirmed the word again and again.

Yes. Yes, I will do this .

No matter what it took, no matter how many sessions he had to spend laying in his empty body, trying to get his limbs to obey his mental commands, he’d get his body back.

And if he couldn’t…

Well, he knew one thing that would prevent Morkai from attaining his goals. It would be a last resort. A dreadful one at that. But if it meant keeping Cora safe—keeping the three kingdoms he sought to control safe—then Teryn Alante was willing to die.