Page 47 of The Heart Trials

His blue eyes search me. “It’s hard for you, being here. Of course, it would be.” He shortens the space that separates us. “My father is cruel.”

“He is.” I didn’t expect his own son to see it. But I also didn’t expect to find myself here.

He stares at me intently, nodding for me to say more. I glance away, afraid he’ll see too much in my face. I’ve probably already said too much. He just needs to keep up his end of the bargain.

“Are you ready for tomorrow when the gloves and chains come off?” he asks.

“I’m more concerned about us both being in the tournament. You have no idea how we—”

He rests his bare finger gently on my lip. The suddenness of his touch makes breath stick in my chest. The spot where he touches is warm. Heat spreads to the rest of my face, my cheeks, the back of my neck, rushing through me like a tidal wave. I snatch away from him.

“You can count on me.” His gaze dips to my mouth, then to my eyes. “Let me figure it out. Focus on elimination and the first trial. And, Axira—”

The way he says my name feels like an invitation I don’t know how to refuse.

“You need to get used to touch.”

“Touch can breed love,” I recite.

“Look around. Love is a weapon. Use it. In fact, take off your gloves.”

“I…what? No.”

“Your prince commands it,” he says, so gently I almost think he’s joking. “Take them off.”

“No!” I recoil, tucking my hands away from him. “I won’t.” Tomorrow, I’ll be laser focused on the mission. I’ll be playing a role, pretending. Now, here, alone, being completely honest with him feels different.

“Fine. But before bed, you need to open the window, let the wind graze your bare fingertips, feel the steel of the palace’s walls. Remove the brittle papers from the frames hanging as decoration. Feel the fragility of this place, Axira.” He straightens his coat.

“Why?”

“So that when you get a taste of what it’s like out there, you don’t lose yourself in it. You can’t fear this place or its rules. Or you risk being seduced by the whims of first touch, like everyone else.”

I’m speechless. His words strike something brittle in me. He is trying to help me because he needs me. But it must be more than that. He didn’t need to give Serafina medicine. He didn’t need to give me back my blade. It shakes me more than if he’d physically forced me out of my gloves. Everything about him unsteadies me. Every look. Every word. And now, every touch. I can still feel his phantom fingers on my lips. He stands there, steady, concerned, patiently waiting for me to respond. And somehow, that’s worse. I was built for resilience, not tenderness.

“I’ll try what you’ve said.”

“Very good. I do hope you sleep well, Axira.” He turns to exit the stairwell but stops, his chin sliding over his shoulder. “Protecting people who can’t protect themselves is never the wrong choice.” He leaves, and I realize why the people of Skyhaven love him.

Somehow—he’s shown them his heart.

16

I’m not getting kicked out of the tournament over a fingerprint.

When I return to the reception, I manage to endure forced conversations with a dozen others. And other than being awkwardly embraced without warning by one and snubbed by two others, the rest were decent. I snagged half of their fingerprints. By the time lunch is served, I’m still short four.

We’re moved from the indoor reception to a palace courtyard where there are simple games set up and more drinks. These are a deep purple color and very bitter. I set mine aside and link up with Mae.

“How many do you have left?” I ask her.

“I’m done.”

“What? How?”

She shows me her journal, and she has twenty-three! “I got one from each person I danced with. And then I found that Dorian guy and asked him for his.”

I blink. “Every person you danced with was someone you wanted to talk to again?” I got stuck with all the weirdos.