Page 218 of Starside

The last heir other than Vander is tall, and handsome, with light-colored hair and piercing green eyes. He’s the heir of House Drake. Instead of a sword on his back, he wears a bow and a quiver of glimmering arrows, tipped with a glittering metal I don’t recognize. He turns to me and bows. “I will offer my invitation … if you promise to visit me, should you survive the journey. And if you consider my hand.”

My hand. He wants to be … matched. I can tell from the look on Vander’s face that this is a big deal. An immortal heir … considering a human worthy of his House at all.

My brows slightly lift. He is handsome. I’m sure he would make an excellent match for anyone. But I can’t offer anything resembling a future.

Still—I nod. Because even though I already have the invitation I need, the end of the quest is uncertain. I’ll take as many promises as I can get.

His green eyes sear into mine. Slowly, very slowly, he lifts my hand to his lips, smoothing them against the silver markings. Then he buries his bow into the ground. It glimmers with the oath. I press my metal to his and feel it like a whisper through my blood.

He raises to his significant height and turns to Vander. “I’m leaving,” he says. “She’s the only one I want.” He looks over at me, glance heavy but not ogling. “I’ll see you soon, Aris.”

Then he and his bow vanish.

I turn to see Raker still glaring at the place he left. That glare makes its way to me. “You didn’t have to make every oath,” he says.

I frown, shocked by his anger. “These oaths could make the difference between life or death.” He doesn’t look convinced. “They could be the difference between making it to the gods or not.”

That doesn’t do anything to dim Raker’s fury. Of course not. He hates it here. He hates every one of these heirs. I can almost understand why. He’s a warrior, from lowly birth. Seeing these heirs, perhaps he doesn’t think they earned their armor and metal. Not the way he did, on countless battlefields.

“And you?” I ask, turning to the immortal bloodbane. “Ready to get on your knees?”

Vander smiles, recalling our conversation just hours ago. “In time, human,” he says. “In time.” He looks at my blade. It’s twinkling with the new invitations. “You know how to summon me, if needed.”

I nod.

Suddenly, Ethel steps into the room. She’s holding a magnificent scabbard crafted of Starside steel. Stories have been carved into its metal, endless etchings that must have taken decades to make.

She gives it to Vander, turns her nose up in my direction, and strides back out of the room.

He hands it to me.

A pinch forms between my brows, and I don’t even open my mouth, unable to find words, carefully taking it.

Vander smiles, sharp teeth gleaming. “No one, not even a blacksmith, will be able to summon your sword when it’s in here.”

It’s invaluable.

“Thank you,” I say, the words breaking. He’s helped me more than I ever could have expected.

“Human,” Vander says, the word spoken with a shadow of appreciation that wasn’t there before. “As much as your attitude speaks otherwise, you are not immortal. Portaling with your sword will expend significant energy.” He looks over at Raker warily. “Especially with someone else. Your invitations will grant you hospitality at the Houses you travel to. Eat. Rest. And … I hope you complete your quest.”

“So do I,” I say, nodding my thanks again.

“The other heirs will be ratting you out as we speak, to gain favor with their gods. Your journey will be more perilous than ever. Go.”

We do.

As we get farther from the music, and the laughter, and the wonders of this mysteriously long courting ball, part of me, that pretending part, withers.

That isn’t my life, I think, passing by the beautiful woman in the transcendent gold dress, the one Vander was watching so intently. It’s someone else’s. It’s hers.

This beautiful moment will never be mine again.

As we fetch the rest of our things, Raker remains quiet.

“What?” I finally ask once we’re outside, striding toward the gates, his silence unnerving. It’s like he’s slipped back into who he used to be weeks before. The knight crafted in stone, the monster behind the mask.

He doesn’t say anything. Of course he doesn’t.