“Perfect. Enjoy your breakfast. Afterward, every one of you will report to the courtyard, where you’ll receive new instructions or be dismissed.”
Amidst nervous whispering, the former Blood Guard officers went back to eating, the watchful gazes of Laila’s armed battalion looming over them.
EPILOGUETHREE MONTHS LATER
RUNE STARED OUT THROUGHthe front windows, her attention fixed on the parked carriages lined up outside Wintersea House. A full moon shone from the blue-black sky as guests dressed in glittering finery trickled in through the front doors.
Rune clasped her hands to stop them from shaking.
I can’t do this.
Lifting the hem of her evening gown, she spun on her heel and marched past the stairs leading down to her ballroom—which was decorated for tonight’s celebration, not to mention full of chattering guests. She glimpsed Bart Wentholt’s coppery hair and heard Juniper’s bright laugh. But her friends only strengthened her conviction.
I can’t go down there.
Rune slipped into her bedchamber, where all was quiet and still. The lights were turned down for the evening, and the door to her casting room stood ajar.
She swung it open and went inside, heading straight for the window, where she opened the latch and pushed out the pane.
A warm breeze flowed in.
Rune paused for a second to close her eyes and breathe it in, remembering how lucky she was. How never again would she take anything for granted. Not the breeze on her face. Not the moon or the sky. And certainly not this island she called home.
It was that in-between time when summer transitioned tofall. The trees were changing color, and the winds were getting rougher. The temperature could be hotter than the height of summer one day, and so cold it might as well snow the next.
Tonight was closer to the former. Warm and breezy.
Rune hiked up the skirts of her dress and climbed into the windowsill, planning to scale the ivy and escape through the gardens.
“Where the hell are you going?”
The voice made her freeze.
Rune stared toward the fields, where a path carved through the wildflowers, leading into the woods and down to the sea.
“Just… um… checking the gardens.”
She ducked back inside, resenting the blush blooming up her face, and spun to face the intruder. Gideon Sharpe leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his broad chest, staring at her with an amused expression.
“I asked Lizbeth to make sure the paths were lit”—she avoided his gaze, letting her eyes scan the shelves full of spell books—“so the guests can stroll there. I want to make sure she didn’t forget.”
“You can’t go out the back door, like a normal person?”
Rune glanced longingly to the window. To the moonlit path through the fields.
Gideon pushed away from the door and came toward her. “What were you actually doing?”
Rune’s gaze snagged on his militia-styled tailcoat, its rust-red shade complementing her turquoise evening gown. Gideon would have been a gentlemanly vision of perfect style had it not been for his cravat. Which he’d completely botched.
He couldn’t go downstairs like that.
“It’s the perfect night for a swim, don’t you think?” she said,closing the distance between them, her fingers itching to fix the cravat.
“Aswim?”
“Mmm.” She reached for the white silk around his neck and started untying it. “Just think… you and me.Naked.In the sea. No one will even notice we’re missing.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I think people will notice that their new parliamentarian—who they’re here to celebrate tonight, and whose house they’re all gathered in—is nowhere to be found.”
