Page 44 of Angel Lost

I take a step after him before his words sink in. “Wait, what?”

He stills. “You don’t wish to stay with me?”

I force my leaden feet after him, make my fingers clutch his sleeve. “Forgive me, King. I’m just a silly, disappointed girl. And…if I’m not your bride then I would like to nurse my wounds with my allegiance.”

An eerie calm settles on his face. That was a mistake.

“Ah yes, your allegiance. The ones you are so faithful to. Who take precedent over evenyour king.”

Dropping his sleeve, I shuffle back.

“Your response made me do a little digging, aether.” He taps his thin nose with a stubby finger. “You do have a rather powerful allegiance. I was interested to find Farrell Cuelebre among them.”

Keep your face neutral, Lorelei.

“He’s quite strong,” I simper. “They all are.”

“Hm. And yet Cuelebre’s father, an ex-governor of mine, was languishing in prison.” He spins, pacing away. “You reminded me, I never did understand the Virrey’s motivation.”

“I don’t think any of us did,” I say, honestly.

Something about my tone must catch his attention. His head snaps up and he peers with those hideous pink eyes at me, before nodding. “No. Well. I intend to find out. He’s been upgraded to my own personal prison here in Elystria. I worry he realized how strong you were, aether. That perhaps he had other plans, for other aethers. He had embezzled a lot of money by the time he was caught. And no trace of where it went, what it was used for. No matter, I will find out.”

Farrell’s father. In his prison. I press my nails into the palms of my hands. If the king breaks the Virrey, he’ll discover the rebellion. They’ll be annihilated.

The king lowers himself into a chair that has all the trappings of a throne. Gems sparkle from the headrest while gold inlay catches the light. He pats a small footstool beside him. Grimacing, I crouch to sit at his feet.

“Don’t worry. You’re safe from him now. And I’ll find a use for a strong aether like you,” the king says, his small hands tapping idly against the armrest. “And should anything happen to my chosen wife, you would make a reasonable fallback.”

I force my shoulders to relax, tilting my chin down just enough to feign humility. “Of course, Your Majesty. But…what about my schooling? Surely you would prefer me ascended?”

His gaze lingers, too assessing. “Perhaps it would be best. I am prepared to be generous. You may either begin training at the aether academy immediately…” He pauses, watching me from beneath pale lashes. “Or marry one of my colonels. A suitable match, of course.”

I keep my breathing steady, though every muscle in my body screams against the trap closing in. “I…I would be honored to train.” My fingers curl against the stool’s embroidered fabric. “If I’m to serve you well, should I not stay with my allegiance? I would be strongest with them—first finishing at Fates, then refining my aether skills.”

The room feels too quiet.

Then, the king chuckles—a soft, indulgent sound, like he’s entertained by a child’s clever trick.

“You bargain well.” He leans forward slightly, amusement flickering in his eerie gaze. “Very well. You may have your time with your allegiance. You will split your studies between the aether institution, Gifted Academy, and Fates. But you will do it at the same time. No delaying marriage. And four days studying aether, minimum. After all, Kai manages it.”

I forget the little etiquette I know. “He what?”

The king’s lips twitch. “My sister likes to keep an eye on him.” He must read the confusion on my face. “Didn’t he mention that? Sensible young man, keeping his affairs private.”

Kai and his lack of frankness…

His smile lingers as he lifts a hand in a careless wave, but his voice drops, silk over steel. “But know this—should you fail, should you flunk school, I’ll still have suitors waiting.”

A cold weight settles in my stomach. I lower my head. “I won’t fail.”

His smirk deepens, and I know I’ve won nothing but borrowed time.

The king’s fingers cease their idle tapping against the armrest. Slowly, he rises from his throne-like chair, the golden light glinting off his crown as he steps forward. I remain perched on the footstool, suddenly small, trapped beneath his shadow.

“You’d best make the most of your time with your Aeternum,” he says, voice almost gentle. “A new husband may not be so…accommodating.” He tilts his head, watching me like an insect pinned beneath glass. “Not many would tolerate such a bond. Many would demand it broken.”

The breath stills in my lungs.Never.

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