Page 150 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

Alora snorted a laugh. “Yes. She does have that effect.”

In the shadow of the pillar, she watched the court conversing and picking from trays while females pretended to worry about their figures when offered something sweet. Alora thought of Thalon and Aiden, who’d been absent nearly an hour, but that wasn’t of concern. If they were searching endless tunnels, they certainly wouldn’t return so soon. And being the brutes of the High Prince, as much as it bothered her, the vain and self-conceited wouldn’t miss them.

“The High City is overflowing with eateries,” Ezander continued. “Countless shops of gowns and clothing imported from all over Elysian. Art galleries and thrill parlors. Flowers. Gem collections from Evanoran. Music halls. Worship houses. Anywhere you wish to go—to see. I would be happy to escort you.” He clearly wasn’t going to relent, she realized.

Alora downed the last of her wine and found Ladomyr staring at her. Raking his eyes from the floor-length blue gown matching her eyes—the dress Garrik had brushed his palms down in the library as his breath fanned across her neck.

She narrowed her eyes at the king, willed her spine straight as an iron rod, and glared, causing him to scoff and turn away.

Something whispered to her. An urge to scan the room.

Alora stilled her breath when she found Garrik. Oblivion stared directly into the shadow of the pillar when she asked Ezander, “Why?” Never taking her eyes off her High Prince.

Ezander considered her question. “Is it enough to say I delighted in your command to my father to lick our High Prince’s boots?” He paused and searched her face. “You couldinform him and I’d be in the dungeons instantly. But somehow, I sense there is much more to you than malicious intent. And I wish to know you much more. More than any of the brainless courtiers who only want under my belt and in the royal coffers. If not romantically, then … merely a friend.”

“I can’t?—”

“She belongs to no one but herself. It is her decision. Is that not what our High Prince said?”

As much as she hated to admit … Ezander was right. Garrik, from the moment in those woods when he returned Soulstryker so long ago, had always respected her choice unless to save her life.

But why did it feel with either choice she would betray one heart or break another?

Alora chewed on the inside of her cheek, surveying a servant approach Silas and offer a silver plate of the garlic braids Garrik loved. The spymaster flickered his eyes to the selection and hauntingly angled his head away without expression. Always observing.

“Allow me time to consider,” she said. It was as good an answer as he would receive. She already knew she wouldn’t say yes. This was just … easier.

Ezander’s smile widened, and she had to turn away, knowing sometime soon it would fracture. “I can accept that,” he said. “When you have your answer, I am only a pen stroke away.”

Warmth enveloped her palm as Ezander lifted it. The last thing she felt before he slipped out a side door was his warm lips against her knuckles and a promise that she’d see him soon. If not in the ballroom, then on the streets of Karanagar with her arm in his.

Thalon and Aidenhadn’t returned by the time court was dismissed.

Flanked by Dragons in battle-black armor, Garrik had escorted Jade and Alora to the High King’s mountain in the dead of night.

He’d only just dawned from the threshold of Alora’s door when Smokeshadows whorled again.

From the tendrils, Garrik surged forward. A look of urgency had her tensing. Waiting for him to say the words she couldn’t dare to speak.

Thalon and Aiden …

He didn’t have to say it. It was written on his face.

“Tell me they’re okay.” Her voice shook.

Garrik was a pillar in a storm. Calm. Unwavering. Unbreakable. Before Smokeshadows turned them into ash and shadow and clouds, he demanded, “My chambers.Now.”

“You lost her?”Garrik pinched the bridge of his nose.

Thalon sprawled across a couch holding wrapped ice to his temple as Jade dabbed a wet cloth to a half-conscious Aiden’s split lip.

Apparently, the moment Garrik dawned from Alora’s door, he had found Thalon staggering and dragging Aiden inside his rooms. Both bleeding. Both barely coherent.

Groaning, Thalon rapidly blinked as if to steady his vision. “Aiden and I thought it best to escort her to your chambers before portaling to camp. We had only arrived at your door when something hit Aiden. I turned and … everything went dark.” His throat worked, then confessed, “She was gone when I woke. I’m sorry, Garrik. I didn’t see who it was. We never made it to the tunnels.”

Garrik’s back faced them, staring out the window. But when he turned, Alora shivered at his sharpened jaw pressed so tight it looked painful. He walked until he gripped the back of Thalon’s couch. If it were wood, she dared to believe it would have cracked.

“Someone broke through my shield,” he growled. “Those only permitted through are our Order and servants. None of those currently in the castle carry memories of what happened.”

---