Page 18 of A Reflection of Silver and Crimson

“Did you miss me?” Aleksander asks “I know our mother did.”

I glance between the woman and the two men, noticing the same bronzed skin and black hair.

“Of course,” Jasce says.

“He’s lying.” Aleksander looks at me. “Jude is his favorite.”

“Jude is everyone’s favorite,” his mother supplies. “He doesn’t test our nerves.”

Jasce takes my hand and squeezes his fingers around mine. My stomach tightens as I force myself to not pull away and shun him in front of his family.

“We’re going for a walk,” he announces.

“So soon?” Aleksander asks with a fake pout planted across his mouth. “I wanted to ask Lyra about being in Sharhavva.”

Lyra was in Sharhava? The House of Crimson’s capital city?

Jasce leads me from the room.

“Jasce,” I begin the moment we’re alone in the hallway. “I…”

“It’s just a walk, Lyra.” He continues through the palace and into the courtyard—the same one I had strolled through the day before.

I glance up at him, momentarily mesmerized by the sunlight glinting in his eyes. It reveals gold flecks that spark within the depths of his irises. “You gave grain to your people.”

He stares over at me but doesn’t speak.

“That was kind of you.”

Instead of replying, he leads me to the fountain I had admired the day before. I allow my fingers to pass beneath the water pouring from the top of the stone statue.

“If I had a garden, I could grow food for people who have none.”Like I do at home.

His brow lifts.

“I enjoy growing things.” I’m offering too much of myself again, but I cannot seem to stop.

“You never did before.”

“Maybe I have changed.”

Something flickers behind his stare as his brow lifts even higher. “In the six months since I last saw you?”

I blink and glance down at my feet.

He reaches for my other hand and pulls me against him. I suck in a quick breath as he gazes down at me, locking his brown eyes on mine. “Are you sure you haven’t been visiting the apothecary?”

“I haven’t.”

“You’re shivering.”

I am?

His grip tightens as he draws me even closer—close enough to feel his heat through my thin cotehardie. “You never did that before.”

He lifts his hand to my neck, touching the sensitive skin near my throat. Tingles spread through me, undeniable tingles that start from the tips of my fingers and travel all the way up my arms.

What kind of magic is this?

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