Page 118 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

It is breaking.

Tenderly cupping her cheek with my palm, I turn her face to mine. “Wherever you are, I pray you can hear me. I love you, Lymseia Wynterliff, my fearless Bladesinger. My beautiful mate. I love you to the ends of the earth, and through whatever follows this world.”

Tears choke me, but I don’t stop. “I love you. I love you. I love you, my Bladesinger. Please, please come back to me. Come back to me.” Wheezes tear from my throat. “I’m begging you.” My chest heaves so strongly, I’m shaking. Tilting my head, I touch my forehead to hers and shut my eyes. Then I lightly graze my lips against hers, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

One. Last. Time.

I don’t let go of her when the door opens. Or when the guards and healers rush back in. Or even when the guards wrestle with me to release her.

Viridian turns away, averting his eyes.

It’s only when the guards pry me away from her, dragging me from the room kicking and screaming and thrashing, that she finally slips from my grasp.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Lymseia

The first thing I notice when I wake is that my fighting leathers are gone. Then it’s the plush material beneath me, followed by the warm, familiar feeling in my chest.

Our mate bond.

Rising to a sitting position, I stretch my arms out above my head and open my eyes. Two women with rounded human ears—servants, I gather—busy themselves dusting the furniture. I glance down at the bronze-colored blankets draped over me, and then look out the window to the sprawling grounds beyond.

Like an old friend, familiarity washes over me.

“I’m at High Keep,” I say aloud, a smile tugging at my lips. My brow furrows, worry rising in my chest, dampening my words. This time, I frown. “I’m at High Keep.”

Wide-eyed, the servants whirl around to me, looking as if they’ve seen a ghost.

“Excuse me,” I say, standing. “Do you know if Ash—if Lord Larmanne is here?”

Without saying a word, the servants flee from the room.

“Well, then,” I say, throwing my hands up with a huff. “I’ll have to track him down myself.”

Barefoot, I step into the hallway, leaving the door to the bedchamber open. The light filling the hall and the servants bustling in either direction tells me that it’s midday.

A female with a healer’s dress stops dead in her tracks when she sees me. “Lady Wynterliff,” she exclaims, rushing to me. Placing a hand under my elbow and another to my upper back, she guides me back the way I came. “We must get you back to bed.”

“No,” I demand, digging my heels. “I’m going to—where is Asheros? I must see Lord Larmanne this instant.”

The female opens her mouth, then closes it. “Lord Larmanne is—” She pauses, clearly thinking better. Scanning the hall, she signals to one of the servants. “Inform the High King at once that Lady Wynterliff is awake.”

The servant scurries down the hall.

“His Majesty will sort everything out,” the female assures me. She tries to urge me forward, but I don’t budge. Adopting a stern tone, she adds, “If you go back to bed.”

“Fine,” I surrender, my voice hard. “But if someone doesn’t start giving me answers, I swear I’ll make you all regret the day you were born.”

Time is passing slower than usual. Either I’m quite impatient, or Viridian takes his sweet time coming to my room.

When he finally arrives, Cryssa is with him. It’s her I see first.

“Lymseia!” She barrels into me, nearly knocking me over with the sheer force of her hug. “You’re alive,” she exclaims.

“Well, I’m alive for now,” I gasp. “I won’t be for much longer without air.”

“We can’t have that,” she says, releasing me.

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