Aurelia turns, slow and deliberate, placing a hand on George’s arm. “Relax, love. We’re all friends here.”
Justus raises his glass. “Some of us areveryold friends.”
George doesn’t answer, but the muscle in his jaw ticks.
Aurelia smiles sweetly between them. “You boys keep this up, and I’ll have to make you duel for me.”
“Is that an invitation?” Justus asks, giving a grin that reminds me of Dayton.
“I’m not sure either of you could handle it.” Aurelia waltzes off, hips swaying, to a new spot: right over Farron’s shoulder. She leans down and whispers in his ear: “Play your moonstone prince. It’ll kill the deck.”
Now Justus, George,andFarron all seem to be blushing messes.
I snort and shake my head, barely disguising a laugh. Justus can try all he likes, but he doesn’t stand a chance. Not when Aurelia gazes at George like he’s the stars, the moon, and the sun all wrapped up in one. That kind of devotion doesn’t unravel, not even with hundreds of years between them.
Caspian’s sitting beside me. I notice him watching the interaction as well, and he chuckles into his wine cup. He looks relaxed, lounging, one leg crossed over the other, an arm draped over the chair next to him. There’s a stillness to him, not brooding or braced for a fight. Just…quiet. At peace, in a way I don’t know if I’ve ever seen before. I feel the same thing in him that I feel in myself: that rare and fragile sense that, for a breath, we are allowed to just be.
His gaze remains on Aurelia, and he says lowly, only for me to hear, “With her home, it’s as if a great weight has been lifted off my briars. Like I can breathe properly for the first time in years.”
“You don’t have to keep Castletree standing anymore.”
He shakes his head. “She’s not at full strength yet. Until she recovers…” He trails off, but I can hear the unspoken words.Until that day, it’s still on me.
“You’re not alone,” I say softly.
His violet gaze pierces through my helm, but he doesn’t fight me. He nods. We fall back into our easy quiet.
But because it’s Caspian and it’s me, I need to ask, “What do you think Sira’s doing now?”
His expression darkens. “I don’t know. But whatever it is, she hasn’t given up. She’s not out of tricks, not by a long shot.”
The air around us feels colder for a beat. I glance toward the doorway, half expecting to see someone appear.
“Rosalina’s due to return soon,” I say, more to myself than him. “Perhaps your sister will be with her.”
“I don’t think my little Birdy will ever fly home.” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “There’s no way everything in my life can be perfect.”
I search his face, the sadness tucked behind those words. A laugh rings out across the room. Kairyn’s on the floor now, pinned by Dayton, who’s grinning like he’s won a war. Kairyn kicks him off but accepts Dayton’s hand up, then demands a rematch.
A smile forms beneath my helm as I watch them. “It doesn’t have to be perfect,” I say. “Maybe it can be messy. And that’s okay.” I pause. “Maybe it’s better.”
Caspian lifts a brow, then smiles. “I suppose you’re right?—”
Something shifts.
Kairyn, mid-swing with his wooden sword, goes still. Not tired or winded. Still. Like a statue frozen, head cocked at an unnatural angle, breath held.
Heidigog drops the platter she was holding. It crashes to the floor with a clang. Carrots scatter. A bowl rolls and spins, spins, spins…then stops.
Silence.
Then I see their eyes.
Kairyn’s first. Flooded with darkness, black as pitch. It spills across the whites of his eyes like ink dropped in water, swallowing everything.
Heidigog’s too. Her little hands curl into claws at her sides, her pink dress bouncing up and down as she shakes.
I rise from my chair slowly, finger trailing up toward my token, heart pounding even as my voice stays calm. “Kairyn, what’s going on?”
