Seven stars, curved around a small square of four others. The shape of a woman carrying a flame, leaning over to protect it from the wind and the rain.
I used to find it every spring when I was a girl, lying on my back in the cold grass outside our house. My mother taught me where to look. I haven't searched for it in years, and it's so faint tonight that I nearly missed it. But once I find it, I can't seem to pry my gaze away—until I hear footsteps coming up the stairs.
“I had a feeling I'd find you here.”
Relief floods through me at the sound of Reave's voice, such a massive, dizzying wave of it that my legs wobble slightly as I stand. I try to keep that shakiness from slipping into my voice as I swallow and say, “You're late.”
He cants his head. “You were worried about me?”
“Are you honestly surprised?”
“I am forever surprised by you,” he replies, the corners of his mouth lifting. But the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, and he doesn't fully look at me before walking over to the edge of the roof, his attention shifting to his city.
“Was I right to be worried?” I ask, following him. “What happened during your visit? Were you able to speak with the ones you needed to?”
He nods. The movement is heavy, as is his gaze—which still hasn't left the distant city. He's looking at it as though trying to memorize its rooftops and spires and lantern-lit streets, as if he's counting all the people quietly settling in for the night. As if he's afraid these things might not be standing much longer.
Fear twists like a knot in my throat, but I force myself to ask, “What did you learn?”
“That the worst of the rumors are true,” he says, his voice oddly hushed even though we're entirely alone up here. “Queen Meira has been dethroned. Dead, according to some, a prisoner in other accounts—but whatever her status, it seems Dralsk has a new ruler. Or will, very soon, assuming he survives until his own crowning. It's all a violent mess, though, so who knows.”
It's a testament to how much has changed over the last month or so, the way this news makes my stomach drop. All these political machinations that once seemed so far awayare suddenly very close and very real, drawing in like a noose around my neck.
“Any chance this new ruler is ultimately more reasonable than Meira was?” I ask.
“I wouldn't count on it.”
I take a deep breath.
“He'll be looking to make a statement of some kind,” Reave continues, his voice still low. “Something to prove himself to his new subjects. We'll need to brace for that.”
I think back to the conversation with the emissaries from Gault, and the pit in my stomach widens. “I don't want to think about how they plan to make that statement.”
“Nor do I.” He sighs, turning his back to the world below and finally, truly looking at me. His eyes brighten a bit as he does, like a man who's just caught sight of the shore after months at sea.
My heart skips several beats as I finally realize just how worried I've been. Just how badly I needed to see him. Talk to him. No one has ever looked at me the way he does. If something were to happen…
“I missed you,” I blurt out. “I've been practicing magic most of the day, and all I could think about was how I wanted to talk to you, to tell you everything that's happened with it.”
He holds out his hand. “I missed you, too.”
I take his hand, letting him pull me into a deep kiss. Everything else melts away for a minute, save for the pounding in my chest and the heat of his touch as it moves to my waist, sliding under the heavy tunic I wear—the tunic I didn't bother to put anything underneath after I bathed. He draws in a sharp breath at this discovery, his caresses turning hungrier, more urgent—only to catch himself in the nextmoment, pausing with one hand clutching my hip and the other cupping my breast.
Still holding back as if he's afraid he might hurt me.
I arch a brow. “You're still not convinced this is a good idea, I take it?”
He leans his forehead against mine. “Do you remember when I told you it would be better if you continued to find me insufferable?”
“Yes.”
“I stand by that.”
“I still do find you insufferable, if it helps.”
He gives me a small smile, arms circling around my waist, gathering me closer. His lips hover just above mine for a moment before he gives in again, both of us melting into each other once more, his hands resuming their exploration of my bare skin with slower, more deliberate touches.
“You must really enjoy kissing insufferable men,” he mumbles when I finally pull away to catch my breath.
