“It’s fine,” she said, looking taken aback. “I don’t care about that.”

She pulled her fingers from mine. “What I mean is that’s not necessary. In fact, I was finished eating. I don’t want to be reseated.”

So shewasoffended. At least I thought that’s what I detected in those captivating caramel eyes. I had to make it up to her.

“What do you know?” I said. “I’m finished as well. Let’s not go back in there. I could use a break from the crush and some fresh air. Would you take a walk with me?”

I gestured toward the long wall of windows that offered a view of the flower gardens and moonlit lawn from the hallway.

Wyn’s forehead was creased with uncertainty.

“Won’t you be missed?” she asked.

“Perhaps. But I don’t care about being missed by anyone but you.”

Her eyelids widened, and then her expression changed, looking a bit sad. She didn’t believe me. She thought I was just handing her a flirtatious line.

“Just for a few minutes?” I cajoled. “You must experience the luminescence of the star-poppies at night—and their scent. They smell so much sweeter after dark.”

After another long moment of hesitation, she nodded and allowed me to lead her to one of the heavy glass doors that punctuated the window wall.

We stepped outside, and as I’d promised, the fragrance of the flowers met us immediately. Under the moon’s light, they emitted a reddish-pink glow that tempted any observer to reach for them.

But like so many things here in the High Court, nasty thorns lurked beneath the beauty of the blooms.

Wyn was quiet, not commenting on the flowers or the pleasant feel of the cool night air. I had my work cut out for me. She wasn’t going to let go of the dining-room slight so easily.

Carefully, I snapped a bright bloom from its stem and sniffed it then held it to Wyn’s nose for her to enjoy as well.

“It’s lovely,” she said quietly. “I’ve never seen one in person.”

“No? They’re my favorite flower. They only open under starlit skies like we have tonight. Their nectar is a favorite of the Lunar moths. Very sweet.” I gave her a small smile. “Like you.”

Pushing her hair back over one ear, I asked, “May I?”

Lady Wyn nodded, and I carefully tucked the flower stem into the hair over her ear.

“Your beauty puts it to shame,” I said. “Let’s walk down toward the water.”

She didn’t object, and I drew her hand into the crook of my arm, walking toward the outer edge of the lawn where a waist-level marble wall separated the palace grounds from the edge of the cliff that dropped steeply into the sea below.

The moon was nearly full, and its reflection on the water was a sparkling white line that seemed to point directly at us.

Thank you, Tenebris.I sent up a silent prayer of gratitude to the god of night for that and for the enchanting blanket of stars overhead.

Torches placed around the border of the lawn lit our way as we approached the wall. When we reached it, I released Wyn’s hand and pressed my fingertips to the cold marble, inhaling the crisp ocean air.

“I love the seaside air,” I said. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of it. When was the last time you saw the ocean? It’s quite a journey from your home.”

“It is,” she agreed. “But I’ve seen it a few times before. Not like this. This is beautiful.”

Finally she looked at me. “I can only imagine what it was like growing up here at Seaspire, in this home, with this magnificent view. You must have loved it.”

“I probably took it for granted,” I confessed. “But yes, it was wonderful. My brother and sister and I played many a game of tag here, running wild across this lawn as the seagulls sailed overhead and the seals cavorted below.”

“It sounds idyllic.”

“It does, doesn’t it? But it wasn’t all fun and games,” I admitted.