Page 62 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

Now, as I stare into the fireplace, working out how and when I can take the map and get to the firelords, I realize I’ll also have to figure out how to keep a tiny Starcaix raya alive on a journey like that, through the cold and the snow. The kind of weather she’s made clear she could never survive for long.

My shoulders tighten and tears prick behind my eyelids as it occurs to me that I might not be able to save both my sister and my friend.

Oh, god. Am I actually going to have to choose between them?

CHAPTER 19

IVRAEL

With both Uanna and Svalkat lurking about the manor acting as spies, I feel like a dancing oloball juggler trying to keep all my self-replicating toys in the air as they multiply.

I’m exhausted. And that’s before Khrint materializes at my elbow as I stride down the gallery.

“Lady Uanna requests your presence in the conservatory.”

Of course she does. “Tell her I’m occupied with estate business.”

“I did, Your Lordship. She insisted. And Baron Svalkat has also asked to see you.”

I rub my eyes with one hand and then pinch the bridge of my nose. “Where is our dear baron this morning?”

“In the library.” Khrint’s expression remains neutral, but his tone suggests volumes. “Examining your collection of texts on Caix magical theory.”

Examining my private papers is what he means. At least the truly dangerous documents are secured elsewhere.

“Very well. I’ll see Lady Uanna.” I stride past Khrint, then pause. “Oh, and please inform the baron that while I appreciate his scholarly interests, some of those texts are quite valuable. I’d hate for any harm to come to them.”

“Of course, Your Lordship.” Khrint’s bow remains perfectly proper even as a dangerous glint enters his eye. “I’ll ensure the baron understands the extraordinarily delicate nature of your collection. Perhaps I’ll mention the fate of the last person who damaged one of your rare volumes.”

There was no such person. But of course the baron won’t know that.

“A cautionary tale worth sharing, I’m sure,” I say.

Khrint’s smile holds just the right edge of menace. “Absolutely.”

I nod, satisfied that Khrint will convey the warning with all the subtlety of a blade wrapped in silk. The valet has always excelled at delivering threats couched in perfect court etiquette. The admonition will be delivered with perfect courtesy.

The conservatory is the only room in Starfrost Manor other than the kitchen where I maintain a temperature above freezing. Originally built to house rare plants from other realms, it now serves primarily as a receiving room for guests who find the manor’s climate uncomfortable. I’ve had it closed off for cycles—not even the servants go inside.

I can’t imagine why Uanna is in there. She hates the heat.

When I enter, she’s standing at one of the windows, backlit by the pale morning sun. She’s draped herself artfully against the glass, her hair cascading down her back. The pose is calculated to remind me of more intimate moments.

It would have worked, once.

“Darling.” She turns, extending one hand with the same practiced grace she’d shown when settling onto my lap the night before. Her pale hair catches the light, and I forcibly push away memories of how it had felt wrapped around my fingers. “I’ve barely seen you since I arrived.”

“I’ve been occupied.” I take her fingers and brush my lips lightlyacross her knuckles—once again deliberately maintaining the proper distance of a court greeting.

My mouth still remembers the bruising force of our kiss, the taste of wine and desperation, but I keep the touch formal. Impersonal.

Her fingers tighten on mine, and I catch the faintest tremor in them. Whether from anger or something else, I’m not certain.

“Too occupied for old friends?” The words carry a double edge, reminding me of how thoroughly we’d demonstrated our ‘friendship’ in the dining room.

“What do you want, Uanna?” I meet her gaze steadily, though part of me wants to look away.

In the harsh morning light, I can see the hint of a bruise on her lower lip—evidence of how far I’d let things go, how close I’d come to losing control. To falling back into old patterns that could destroy everything I’ve worked for.

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