With Kallias, my blood pulsed with fiery longing, a symphony of passion luring me toward him like a siren’s song. Tallon’s presence warped that melody into something rancid. My veins churned and rebelled, twisting under the weight of a wrongness I couldn’t shake.
When we returned to Reem, I forced myself to ride beside him. At dinner, nausea clawed at my stomach as his wicked smile landed on me, his expression too knowing. He seemed to relish my discomfort, feeding on it as predator devours prey.
Escape wasn’t an option. Kallias had pulled away after the celebration of life, leaving our garden conversation to fester. Those confessions of what could never be hung in the air like a shadow. The ritual we’d shared was nothing more than a gesture to appease the gods, a cold transaction.
Once spoken, words could not be undone.
I had laid my heart bare, and he turned me away.
There would never be an ‘us.’There would only be the façade of Tallon and me, the prince and princess bound by title. A union devoid of love. The thought of our wedding night filled me with dread, the idea of bearing his heir more revolting than I could stomach.
Bile burned its way up my throat.
Tallon’s appearance was everything one might desire. His raven-black hair gleamed, his emerald eyes glittered with a predatory sharpness. High cheekbones framed a chiseled jawline, blending boyish charm with the wiry strength of a man. Women everywhere would have fallen at his feet.
But whatever beauty nature had bestowed was undone by the vileness coursing through his heart.
His hair was as dark as his soul. His eyes gleamed with a vile, greedy hatred. Full lips were always mocking—leering at others. His straight nose was constantly lifted in a sneer.
When we arrived at the palace, I searched for Fyrn at once. I found her in the gardens, reclining on a bench with a book, the sunlight giving her cheeks a healthy flush.
“Nienna!” she exclaimed as I approached, her face lighting up. “How was the trip?”
Her warmth eased the tension swirling inside me. Smiling, I clasped her hand and gave her a quick once-over. “It went well. Are you feeling better?”
“Oh, yes.” She laughed and tugged me onto the bench surrounded by fragrant rose bushes. “The servants must be relieved. I doubt they stopped scrubbing the floors for days.”
Her eyes flicked to the Thresher lingering in the shadows, his watchful presence as constant as my own shadow.
“He refuses to leave,” I said with a frustrated sigh, turning my body to block him from view. “But how did you manage to not tell me how amazing your home is?”
“You liked it?” Her lips quirked. “My parents at least invited a few lesser nobles to liven up that cave?”
“No. Just us.”
Her brow furrowed, and she pressed a hand to her forehead. “But they must have used the receiving hall! And for the love of Veridis—please tell me they prepared the dining room?”
“They welcomed us to the kitchen.” I tilted my head, fighting a laugh as her expression crumpled in dismay.
“The king too?”
“He didn’t seem to mind.” In truth, the informal setting soothed his usual severity.
Fyrn groaned and buried her face in her palms. “They can’t do anything right!”
“It was nice.” I pulled her hand from her cheek and leaned closer to catch her gaze. “I needed the escape. The high court, the nobles, the crown—”
Tallon.
“—It was exactly what I desired,” I said, resting my fingers over hers. “I only wish you’d been there to share it.”
Her lips twisted with amusement. “Did they at least show you the city, or did my father corner you in his study to prattle on about his precious goats?”
I leaned back against the bench, the roses nearby lending their fragrance to the soft hum of the garden. “We visited Sol.” My words hesitated on the edge of more. How much could I reveal? Would mentioning the dance betray anything?
“Is the dance hall finished?” Her voice carried a flicker of nostalgia, tempered by wariness. “It was nearly done before I left, and Father wanted it completed before his return.”
“It’s magnificent. You have to see it yourself.”
