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He’s playing with me. No doubt a little vengeance after I did the same to him in the royal gallery.

Two can play this game.

I slide a hand up his chest, wrapping it around the nape of his neck. His skin is warm beneath my fingers, and I feel the faintest hitch in his breath as I rise onto the tips of my toes and lean into him, close enough that my lips nearly brush his ear.

“Only if I want a taste of regret,” I whisper.

A warm breath caresses the curve of my neck as Kallias chuckles, and it takes every ounce of my self-control to suppress the shiver that wants to break free. “That didn’t stop you last time.”

I step back, letting my arm fall away. “I’m constantly amazed at the extremes I’ll go to in order to escape certain death.”

Before he can respond, another set of hands grazes my hips, rooting me in place. Kallias goes rigid as well.

A familiar voice whispers against the crown of my head, “Sorry to interrupt your…intimate moment, darling. But someone is waiting for you.”

I glance back, and my eyes meet the gaze of Lady Calliope’s second-in-charge. Kashton’s lips curve into a smile that’s equal parts charm and mischief, and the dusting of sapphire scales on his cheekbones shimmers. That smile turns wicked as his eyes flick to Kallias. He wraps an arm around my waist, knocking the prince’s grip loose in the process, and holds out his other hand. “Kashton. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Kallias looks down at the proffered hand, his jaw tightening. For the briefest moment, the surrounding air warms—barely noticeable, but enough to draw a bead of sweat to the back of my neck.

“We wouldn’t want to keep your guest waiting,” Kallias says with a razor-sharp smile.

“Of course.” Kashton’s grin remains steady as his grip on me loosens. Leaning in, his voice drops to a low murmur against my ear. “I must admit, I do enjoy it when they play hard to get.”

He weaves through the crowd, and I follow at a careful distance. A quick look over my shoulder reveals Kallias close behind, his mask of lazy indifference firmly in place. The sight of it sends a dull ache through my chest, but I turn away, focusing on Kashton, who waits near the wall of mirrors at the far end of the Muse.

He strokes the ornate frame of the largest mirror, and it swings outward to reveal Calliope’s office. Without a word, he steps through and motions for us to follow.

“Nyssa,” Maxim whispers as he appears at my side, and the sound of my name said out loud sets me on edge. “Are you sure we can trust them?”

I pause at the threshold as Kallias stops beside us.

The truth is, I don’t know if anyone can be trusted, not fully. Trust is fragile, fleeting—so easily broken when it’s most needed. But if anyone has earned my trust and respect, it’s Calliope. She has proved herself time and time again, though often in ways only I seem to notice.

“They’ve already helped us once, and I think we have to,” I say finally, before turning back to them. “I’m asking you two to trust me.”

The prince studies my face intently, as if he’s silently counting every grievance he holds against me. The worst of all being that I was a Songbird—a member of the Aviary, the very order that claimed his sister and now hunts us relentlessly.

I hold my breath as I await his judgment.

Finally, he dips his chin into a nod.

Kashton pouts at me when we follow him inside. I suspect he overheard our exchange, but he says nothing as he closes the mirror behind us.

I scan the dimly lit room, my gaze darting from shadow to shadow, but only Calliope occupies the space, leaning back on the heavy desk in the center of the room with her bronze curls catching the dappled light from the stained-glass windows.

“By the winds, wildflower, I’d nearly forgotten how much trouble you bring with you,” Calliope says.

“It’s a part of my charm,” I say.

Calliope offers an indulgent smile as her gaze shifts to Maxim and Kallias, measuring without betraying what she finds.

I’ve no doubt she has already realized the prince of the Sorrows is standing before her. But she doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, she approaches a wall lined with tall bookshelves and traces her fingertips along the spines of the books. Then she stops, placing her hand firmly on the edge of a particular shelf. With a soft click, the bookshelf shifts.

Maxim steps closer, positioning himself between the shelf and Kallias and…me. A section of the wall grates open, and my breath hitches. Myna steps out, her expression calm yet cautious as the guard eyes her. But the tension in Maxim’s shoulders still doesn’t ease, and it’s not until another figure steps out from the shadowed hideaway that I understand why.

“Lucaz.” His name escapes me in a whisper, relief and desperation choking the sound. I close the distance in a heartbeat, skirting around Maxim and flinging myself into my brother’s arms. They tighten around me, one arm finding the back of my head as he releases a shuddering sigh.

“I missed you too,” my brother says. “Word has it you’ve been stirring up trouble. I couldn’t believe it, so I had to see for myself.”