Page 67 of The Breaker of Stars

It had been tranquil for a few moments.

Now, as we walked closer to those towering, gray wooden doors of the dining room, the manor took the image of a prison. The angles of every corner seemed sharp enough to kill, the planes of each window an unbreakable barrier.

The guards left us at the door, and Vale lifted a hand to the shining silver handle.

“Wait,” I whispered, grabbing her wrist. Her skin was cold. “How do you want to play this?”

“What?” Her eyes searched mine, lined in such a dark blue it was nearly black. As she tilted her head, the shimmering powder atop her cheekbones caught the light. She shone like a gift from the Fates, my Stargirl.

The contrast of her dress against my leathers was not lost on me. She was the Starsearcher darling, beloved and cherished, and I was the brutal guard who had been keeping her from Titus.

That was his story, at least.

“How are we behaving in there?” I asked. “I don’t want to make Titus angrier.” Not if she would catch the consequences of his fury. “Do you want to play into his game?”

She blinked those wide olive eyes up at me for a moment. Then, she slipped her fingers between mine, locking our hands together.

“He no longer writes my fate, Cypherion.”

And without another word, she shoved open the door to the dining room.

But there was a certainty in her voice that didn’t match the hollowness of her stare, one that sent a chill of unease down my spine as we faced her captor together.

The walk to the long rectangular table was endless. Vale’s heels echoed louder than seemed possible on the marble floors, sound carrying between the limestone pillars lining either side of the room and bouncing off the windows at the opposite end, up to the arched ceiling.

And standing before those windows, watching the wind whipping against the glass with his hands behind his back, was Titus.

He didn’t turn immediately, and each moment he waited, wrath boiled in my gut. My grip grew tighter on Vale’s, but she remained steady.

As we reached the end of the table, I squeezed her hand, and we both stopped. This may be Titus’s manor, his land and jurisdiction, but there wasn’t a chance we were getting closer without at least some acknowledgment.

His story of me being nothing but a guard aside, I was the damn Second to the Revered Mystique Warrior. I’d earned a modicum of respect at least, and I’d enforce that title if it meant helping Vale. Spirits, I’d wear the damn thing proudly.

I allowed it to straighten my spine now, assuming the authority of a leader.

We would not stay in this manor a moment longer than was necessary.

Finally, after the silence of our halted footsteps broke through his facade, the chancellor turned. His navy silk robes were a thick brocade, lined with silver that matched Vale’s dress, and nearly had a growl rumbling through my throat. They were no political pair to be paraded around.

Titus ran a hand over his neatly-trimmed beard, raising his thick black brows in fascination, and a sickening smile spread across his face.

“Welcome home, darling!” he cooed.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from snapping. My free hand automatically reached for a dagger, but they’d been taken, my sword and scythe still back in the attic room of the candle shop.

Vale flinched at his greeting. Only minutely, as if she was stifling the reflex or some force stopped her.

“Thank you, Chancellor,” she said, her high, clear voice ringing like a bell. So demure yet strong.

“And Mr. Kastroff.” Titus nodded at me. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. Though I wish the circumstances of this reunion would have been better coordinated.”

“Or it could not have occurred at all,” I said blandly. “We each have our preference, it appears.”

“Yes.” Titus grinned. “It does appear so.”

A weighted silence hung between us all.

“Well,” the chancellor said, “why don’t we sit? No point standing about when dinner has been prepared and we have so much to catch up on.”

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