Page 81 of Queen of Shadows and Ruin

“I’m worried about you, too. What are you planning next?” Yasen asked.

“I still want to get through to my family,” Miraan said. “I refuse to believe they don’t want to find a way to fix this.”

“You can’t return to the palace.”

Miraan ran a hand through his hair, his gaze unfocused. “No, but Rudra said he’s willing to meet with Dishani on my behalf.”

He stopped talking, and Yasen sensed something he wasn’t saying.

“What?” Yasen asked, his awareness prickling with worry.

Miraan’s gaze pinged to him. “I wonder if we can appeal to my father. Technically, he is in charge until Dishani’s coronation and his orders would supersede hers. Just because he’s never done so and has always defaulted to my sister doesn’t mean it’s the only way.”

“Sure, piss her off a little more. She’ll love that.”

“She’s leaving me no choice,” he answered, his voice full of buried emotion.

“Then what’s your plan?”

“To invite them to a mutual safe space—I trust that neither my father nor Talin would betray me. I think they’re too scared to do anything independently, but I’m not afraid of Dishani.”

Yasen stared at the prince and the determination in his eyes. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he was falling for this man. There was something enduring and noble in how he bore everything with grace and calm. He was beautiful on the inside and out. Despite his stern exterior, Miraan had a heart that bled gold.

Miraan looked at Yasen, and their gazes met. He didn’t understand what he read in the prince’s expression. He didn’t know what to expect or even what he wanted. He was a prince, and if things continued, perhaps he was destined to become a king.

The female line had always ruled Gi’ana, but he was confident Zarya didn’t want the job, and as he’d said, just because something had always been done a certain way, it didn’t mean it always had to be so.

“What are you thinking?” Miraan asked, stirring Yasen out of his thoughts.

He blinked and sighed. “That… I’m wondering where this leads.” He gestured between them, and Miraan strode over instantly, cupping Yasen’s face in his hands before his lips crashed into his. Miraan kissed him deeply, his mouth hot and his tongue probing.

Yasen clung on, almost like he was drowning. And maybe he was. Sinking into the soft, dark eyes and the stoic expression of a prince with so much riding on his shoulders.

They pulled apart, their foreheads touching.

“Be careful,” Miraan said.

“You, too.”

Then Yasen pulled away and turned to leave, trying not to think of everything he stood to lose.

A few hours later, Yasen and Row left for Dharati. They arrived inside the haveli, away from the scrutiny of prying eyes. As Row’s magic dissipated around them, Yasen blinked several times to shake off his dizziness, stumbling as he reached for a table to steady himself.

“Sorry,” Row said. “It isn’t the most pleasant way to travel. I actually avoid it as much as possible, to be honest.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Yasen said. “I love having my eyes squeezed to the point of bursting.”

He shook his head, blinking heavily several times, casting away the last of his disorientation before inhaling a deep breath.

He’d been nervous about returning to Dharati for a variety of reasons. While his departure had been justified—or at least he’d done an adequate job of convincing himself of that—he couldn’t shake the guilt that had followed him for months.

Vikram needed him, and Yasen had run as far away as possible. But he’d spent most of his life being there for Vikram, and while he’d never expected anything in return, it had also been time to look out for himself.

“You ready?” Row asked as he crossed the living room with a purposeful stride.

“We’re going now?” Yasen asked.

“No time like the present, is there?”