Page 21
There were no leathers. Instead, they presented a single gown woven from fine solar silk—a silver-white fabric that felt like a column of cool water against my palms. As they slid it over my head, the silk fell flat against my skin without offering an ounce of structure. It clung to my hips and the swell of my chest with relentless precision. The neckline dipped low, exposing my collarbones, while the back was cut open all the way down to the small of my spine.
I studied my reflection in the full-length mirror, an uncomfortable tightness settling in my throat. I looked like a prize. A fragile, vulnerable court decoration.
I almost looked full fae. If I hid the fact that my ears weren’t quite as pointed, no one would notice in this dress that I was a mongrel.
They fastened heavy chokers of white gold and moonstone around my neck, the cold metal biting into my skin, and pulled my copper-red hair into an intricate, tight braid that exposed the sharp line of my jaw.
A battlefield dressed in fine silk, my own voice reminded me from yesterday.
A heavy knock echoed from the main room.
I pulled away from the maids, my bare feet silent against the granite flagstones as I crossed the floor and pulled the oak door open, expecting Soren’s easy smile to greet me.
My breath hitched in my throat.
It wasn’t Soren.
Caspian stood in the doorway. He was completely transformed, his scuffed dark training leathers replaced by the formal attire of the Ilasari court.
That’s right, I’d never asked Aerynn who Caspian really was. But he clearly had to be somebody important to be wearing formal Ilasari court attire.
He wore a structured, high-collared doublet of midnight-black velvet, immaculate and detailed with silver thread that tracked his broad shoulders. A crisp silver sash crossed his chest, pinned by the ancient Ilasari crest, and his heavy boots were polished to a mirror shine. He looked less like a border captain and more like an imposing prince.
His eyes found mine, and he froze.
The heavy stillness of his posture locked up instantly. His jaw set so hard a small muscle ticked beneath his clean-shaved skin. His gaze dropped from my face, tracking the line of my throat sliding down the low neckline of the dress. His eyes lingered on the exposed skin of my chest, then followed the tight silk down to the floor, his pupils dilating until the blue of his irises was just a thin ring of ice.
Heat hit my cheeks, my skin prickling under the sheer focus of his stare. The thin fabric offered zero protection against the way his eyes moved over me, turning the chilly morning air stiflingly warm.
Maybe there was something more than duty there after all.
“Where is Soren?” I asked, keeping my voice tight.
“I relieved him of his post,” Caspian said, his low voice dragging across the quiet room like velvet over steel. “He logged twenty straight hours keeping watch at your door after your room was trashed. Every vanguard roster and personal detail in this citadel answers directly to my command, Trouble—not your brother’s, and certainly not your guard’s. The male was standing dead on his feet, so I ordered him to the barracks.”
He took a slow, deliberate step into my space, his broad frame blocking out the morning light from the window.
“Which leaves me to escort you to the Mani Vatn myself.”
Ahh, just duty then. Dammit.
His gaze dropped again, tracing the curve of my waist where the silk clung tightest. He reached out, his calloused hand hovering a fraction of an inch away from my bare shoulder. The heat radiating off his palm sent a sudden spark straight down to my wrists. He didn’t touch me—he knew better than to break court protocol here—but the proximity was suffocating.
“You’re showing too much skin, Princess,” he murmured, his jaw tightening as he tracked the flush on my neck. “It’s a distraction.”
“Then look at the wall, Captain,” I shot back, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“I’ve never been good at ignoring threats,” Caspian said softly. A faint smirk touched the corner of his mouth before he stepped back, offering his arm with a courtly grace that felt like a subtle taunt. “After you, Your Highness.”
I glared at him, my fingers tightening into fists before I placed my hand lightly on his velvet sleeve. The tension between us was an electric current, tracking every step we took down the cold corridors of the residential wing.
The grand iron gates of the citadel groaning open revealed the first light of dawn.
The three moons hung low on the horizon, their silver glow mixing unevenly with the pale gold of the rising sun. A heavy hum of voices rose from the lower tiers—a sound that made my resolve tighten.
A massive procession of people stood waiting beyond the gates. Thousands of Fae citizens, lower-ranking guards, and curious court ministers formed a long line extending down the rocky path toward the hidden valley of the Mani Vatn. Every single person held a glowing glass lantern, the pale blue and silver light illuminating their sharp features and cold expressions.
They hadn’t come to cheer. They’d come to watch a performance. They were curious to see if the half-breed princess would survive the silver waters, or if her mortal veins would burn out before the morning cleared.
