Page 163 of Blood of the Stars

Sylmar’s face remained unreadable. “You’ve earned your day off tomorrow. You’re starting to react without thinking in combat. Now you need to learn to do it with magic. It’s time you stopped holding back.”

Guilt swarmed through her as he saw straight through her tactics. “I’d rather think through my choices. Know if they’re right or wrong before I make them instead of having to evaluate it after.”

“Your situation is unique.” Sylmar’s penetrating gaze made her wince. “I never want you to choose blood magic, but at some point you’ll need to do magic in the presence of starblood. You can’t get around it. I’d rather you tried and failed here, where it’s safe. There won’t always be time to think. But if you’re practicing right reactions, in the moment when it matters, your reaction will be right.”

He patted her shoulder, then made his way back to the group, leaving Aeliana more confused than before. Had she been right to hold back her magic this time? Or had fear made her pass up an opportunity?

The ebb and flow of the sea should have calmed her nerves, but her body felt hungry for the blood still spilled on the ground behind her. It called to her even from this distance.

Felk whined, whether because he sensed her distress or felt a similar call to the blood.

“What if he’s wrong?” she whispered. “What if I still make the wrong choice?”

CHAPTER 66

The next morning Gaeren asked for a family dinner, surprising Enla into saying yes. They ate in their parents’ quarters, his mother even paler than the last time he’d seen her. He stayed on his best behavior, hoping it would deter Enla from sifting his future to discover his plans. Once he left, she’d be sure to sift through all the possibilities, and Gaeren couldn’t help wondering what she’d find.

For now, Enla beamed when he bent to pull out his mother’s chair and guide her back to her bed. It was an odd role reversal to tuck his parents in, but Gaeren had more memories of nannies and nursemaids tucking him in anyway. Still, Enla’s brow knitted as they shut their parents’ door and headed back to the main hall. Her anxiety made his plans all the easier, though the four guards following him might make things harder for Larkos.

“Remember when we were young, and we sat out on the veranda to count the Stars?” he asked.

Enla laughed softly. “You mean when you swore there were exactly fifty-two?”

“I counted them dozens of times and always got the same number. How was that not enough for you?” He tucked her hand in his elbow and steered her through the corridors, aiming for the first floor and its excessively large entryway. He soaked in every stone and painting they passed, wondering when he’d see these halls again. For all the times he’d despised the way these walls held him in, he couldn’t imagine never being welcome here again.

“How could you possibly keep track with the way they dance?” she asked.

“There’s a pattern to their dance.”

Her look held disbelief, but she tightened her hold on his arm, more than willing to let him lead her out to the veranda, where they let propriety drop enough to kick off their shoes and drape themselves on the chaise lounges to face the sky. They counted the Stars like they had in the past, Gaeren coming up with fifty-two every single time, but his eyes were more intent on the moon’s path across the sky and the guards’ determined presence at the stairs leading to the lengthy drive. They would see Larkos from a long way off.

“Do you think it’s right that Mother and Father gave Mayvus authority over the eastern province?” Gaeren asked. “She was a power-hungry priestess. Now she’s a driven queen. Who’s to say she’ll stop there?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s been done.”

“You can undo it.”

She sighed but didn’t take his bait. Larkos would come, even if she was still here. Gaeren meant to drive her away instead of involving her in his escape, but he was selfish enough to want just a few more moments with her that were unmarred by their disagreements.

“Things were easier when we were children,” he mused.

“Perhaps they’ll get easier again.” Her vague words reminded him of Orra, which was equal parts disturbing and reassuring. When Enla scratched at the scar on her palm, his gut tightened.

“How are things with Croft? I haven’t seen him much since I returned.”

“Well enough.”

“Sounds about as well as things are going for Lenda and me.” He knew it was the way of an arranged bond, but he still didn’t like it. If he and Enla had been able to choose their bondmates, like Larkos and Calia had, would their bonds be stronger?

For once she didn’t scold him or encourage him to lean into his bond with Lenda. Did she still want him to break it? Or had the time for that unclear strategy passed?

“You’re right.” Enla sat up, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders as if the warm summer’s night had turned cool. “Things were easier when we were young.”

He rolled off his chaise to sit next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder so she could lean into him. “I can still give Riveran a beating if you’d like.”

She elbowed him hard before fully settling against him. “Why do you continue hating him if I’ve moved on?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say he didn’t hate Riveran, not anymore. But it felt wrong to admit that possibility to Enla, who had taken the brunt of Riveran’s misconduct, when Gaeren hadn’t quite been able to admit it even to himself.

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