Page 156 of What Blooms from Death

“I don’t trust him,” Aleks muttered.

“I don’t, either. But I’m tired of talking to other people tonight; I just want to go somewhere more private.”

He gave my hand a small, understanding squeeze. We didn’t look back. He walked me to my room, following me inside without uttering another word about Kaelen or anyone else.

As I slipped off his coat and moved to drape it over a chair, I noticed a gift waiting for me in the center of my bed: The violin from the music shop, freshly polished and adorned with an orange ribbon.

“That old shopkeeper moved impressively quickly,” Aleksander commented.

I turned to him. “You did this?”

He shrugged, but a sly grin flirted with the corner of his lips. “I merely arranged for it to be delivered. The shopkeeper was happy to gift it to you; he fell in love with you, I think. Much like everyone else in the city.”

Everyone else…including you?

The question rose in my mind before I could stop it, but I couldn’t find the courage to ask it out loud.

Instead, I picked up the violin and its bow, smiling as I untied the ribbons around them. I’d smiled more tonight than I had in what felt like years; my cheeks were starting to ache from it.

“Thank you,” I told him.

“It’s really a selfish gift,” he said. “I just want to hear you play it more, that’s all.”

I blushed slightly, taking the gift and carrying it out onto the balcony, sighing happily as the crisp night air caressed my cheeks.

One of my favorite places to practice back at Rose Point had been atop the roof of the observatory that stood on the edge of the expansive grounds. It was always a transformative experience, especially at night—to send melodies with love into the open air, far away from the main manor, with wild woodsstretching before me and stars wheeling overhead…it was one of the few times in my old life that I’d truly feltfree.

And though it wasn’t as private, this balcony had become one of my favorite places in this palace. It was larger than it seemed at a glance, wrapping around the outer wall, and the spot around the corner felt secluded and set apart from everything else. I’d even slept out here a few times, curled up in one of the chairs or sprawled out on the larger lounge sofa, buried in blankets, letting the twinkling stars lull me to sleep.

This time, I stayed in the main part of the balcony, staring out at what I could see of the road that led to the front of the palace. There were riders approaching the gate. Five of them, in all.

More leaders, like Kaelen, who were answering my brother’s summons?

They must have been, given how calmly they were welcomed in at such a late hour.

“More company,” I muttered.

Aleks stepped to my side, bracing his hands against the railing and staring up at the nearly full moon. “Eleven days until the Equinox, isn’t it?”

Instead of replying, I settled the violin on my collarbone and steadied the bow in my hand, trying to remember the first notes of the ethereal, haunting tune I wanted to play—an old favorite of mine. I just wanted to go back in time for a moment. To ignore the grim uncertainty we faced for a little while longer.

The music came easier than it had earlier; maybe because I had a smaller audience, and I was less afraid of making a mistake in front of Aleks. The notes flowed smoothly into the delicate, swirling melody, casting a spell over the space, and for a moment—just a heartbeat—everything seemed to vanish except for the sound; the hum of strings; the glide of the bow; the deep, rich timbre of my instrument.

Aleks turned and leaned his back against the railing, hands in his pockets, listening to me play with a slight smile on his lips. He didn’t speak even after I’d finished. But he stepped toward me as I set the instrument aside, and he wrapped his arms around me from behind—an even more satisfying distraction than music.

His hands moved with the same artistry he’d possessed when playing piano, fingertips skimming over my body with a smooth, easy confidence. They roamed along the curves accented by the bodice of my dress, eventually settling on my hips, holding me in place while his lips swept down my neck and across my shoulder.

There was no music—the stars provided our only symphony, and they were silent and cold—but after a moment, he took my hand, spinning me as if we were in the middle of an elegant waltz. We ended up facing one another. He brought my hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss across my knuckles, then several more up the length of my arm before pulling me in and softly meeting my lips with his.

His eyes caught the moonlight when he pulled away, their golden color shimmering with a beauty that seemed almost inhuman. The sight transported me once more to the last night we’d spent in the Above together. To his radiant, handsome figure approaching me in the dark garden, smiling at me despite the grave-dirt on my hands. He’d kissed my hand then, too, and I’d been caught up in his gaze, and in the possibility ofus—but for different reasons.

Now my reasons felt deeper, heavier, far more frightening than the prospect of a political marriage I’d faced all those years ago.

My heart raced. He must have felt it, because his head tilted as he absently stroked my knuckles with his thumb, and he asked, “What are you thinking, my Chaos?”

I hesitated. “About a conversation I had with Zayn the other day.”

“...Oh?”

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