“I might have grown up in the royal bubble of well behavior, but I have snuck up and drank potions before,” I said with an edge of pride.
Next to us, the twins were already flagging down the bartender, shouting for a round of exaltation potions. Their laughter carried over the music as the vials clinked onto the counter, the liquid inside glowing like captured starlight.
While they argued over who would drink first, my gaze drifted across the tavern and caught on someone watching me. A tall, broad-shouldered Sunheart leaned against a post near the far wall, lanternlight gilding his hair. His eyes were amber, warm but unfamiliar. They were not the deep molten gold of Elarion’s strong magical heritage. He wasn’t a student.
I felt the heat rush to my cheeks before I could stop it. Shakari’s knowing smirk appeared almost instantly.
“You might want to enjoy it while you can,” she murmured, raising her glass.
Before I could reply, the stranger crossed the tavern in a few easy strides and stopped too close. “Hello, Princess,” he said, voice low. A hint of a smile curled his lips. He was inside my space, close enough that spice and smoke tangled between us and I didn’t mind.
“Well,” I said, my tone lighter than I felt, “a bit unfair, isn’t it? You know who I am, but I don’t know who you are.”
A terrible line, I thought immediately, my stomach flipping. What was that?
Behind me, my friends were already laughing, gulping down their auroric potions as the music shifted, drums deepening, strings rising. The crowd on the dance floor erupted, and I felt the beat thrum through my chest, wild and fast, daring me to move.
The Sunheart asked for two auroric potions, and while they were being brought to him, I just stared at him in silence.
“I am just a local of Wolventon,” he said mysteriously. “I must admit I was not expecting to see the Princess in such an old, moldy tavern. But I am glad I did.”
He was striking, high cheekbones, dark hair falling just enough to cast a shadow over his eyes, his light-tones skin shining against the golden light. For a heartbeat, I simply admired him, the curve of his jaw, the quiet confidence in the way he leaned closer.
The bartender returned, setting down two glasses filled with a deep red auroric potion that shimmered faintly, like liquid flame.
“Cheers,” I said, lifting mine.
We drank together. The glass was cool against my fingers, but the potion was warm and sweet as it slipped down my throat. It tingled like sunlight spilling through water. The change hit fast, heat and light bursting through my veins, colors sharpening until even the lanterns seemed to pulse with my heartbeat.
I had just set my glass down when the tavern door swung open, letting in a sharp gust of night air that made every lantern flicker.
Lorik Draventh stepped inside, followed by his usual entourage, Marla Yung, Rory Rey, and Ugo Zeyu. His dark shirt was rolled to his elbows, the fabric stretched over his forearms. The faint gleam of steel caught at his wrist. He didn’t have to demand attention; the room gave it to him.
He didn’t sit right away. His gaze drifted through the crowd, slow and deliberate, until it found me.
The moment our eyes met, the noise around me fell away. My breath caught. I looked down first, pretending interest in my empty glass. But the potion’s warmth burned too brightly in my veins, urging defiance instead of restraint. When I looked back up, his eyes were still on me for a heartbeat longer… then he turned, expression unreadable, and joined his friends.
“Dance with me, Princess?” The Sunheart’s voice broke through my daze. He held out his hand, palm open, grin daring.
“With pleasure,” I said.
I glanced around for my friends as he led me onto the dance floor. Shakari and Rowan were already spinning through the crowd, their laughter rising above the music. Nearby, Soehl was swaying with Jan, dancing far slower than the frantic rhythm demanded, her head tilted toward his shoulder. At the edge of the hall, Tran stood by the bar, attempting a conversation with Camelia Aric, who looked half amused, half bored.
The music swelled, drums and fiddles colliding in a riot of sound and the floor trembled beneath the crush of stomping boots. We moved together, fast, and breathless, the air thick with laughter and heat. His grip was steady, pulling me into the rhythm, guiding each turn with practiced ease. The potion blurred the edges of the world until all that remained wereflashes of color, the pulse of the beat, and the rush of my own heartbeat echoing it.
When he drew closer, his breath brushed my cheek. I should have stepped back. I didn’t. The potion dulled reason, sharpened sensation and for those few spinning moments, I let myself forget who I was. Just another face in the crowd, laughing, alive, and free.
I saw my friends dancing next to me. Shakari was having more fun than I just watching me being free for the first time in ages.
The Sunheart’s hand slid to my waist, pulling me closer until the space between us disappeared. The crowd pressed in, the music pounding around us, but all I could feel was the sudden wrongness of it, the discord beneath the rhythm.
I should have wanted this. The warmth of his touch, the thrill of being seen. But instead, something inside me recoiled, a low hum of magic twisting beneath my skin, warning, restless. It wasn’t fear. It was recognition. A quiet part of me was telling me this wasn’t who I was meant to be tonight. The confusion tangled in my chest, hot and tight, but the pull was stronger. I drew a breath, steadying myself, and stepped back.
“I need a minute,” I said, laughing it off. “Too much exaltation portion.”
I slipped from the floor, weaving through the crowd toward the back of the tavern to find the washroom.
When I found the corridor leading to the washrooms, I saw Lorik Draventh leaning against the wall, a dark silhouette against the torchlight. A glass rested in his hand. His silver eyes pop in the dim light, and his face was serious. My chest tightened with something I didn’t dare to admit.
