Page 76 of Stolen
The Eyrie—DiningRoom
Night blankets the Eyrie in velvet shadows, the stars glittering just beyond the open balcony.
I’ve cast warming spells on the breeze, but the chill I feel tonight has nothing to do with the wind.
Jules didn’t touch her dinner.
She’d smiled politely, even nodded when I poured her wine, but her mind was elsewhere.
Far from me.
Far from us.
And now she stands in front of one of my most sacred tapestries. She’s silent. Distant.
Her expression is unreadable as firelight dances across her features.
My chest aches.
She spent all afternoon at the North Village Market with Shade, and I’d hoped the day would lift her spirits.
Some of the merchants told me she was sweet, warm, even funny.
I came back to find the entrance of my keep overflowing with their admiration.
Gifts of lace and honeyed fruits, fragrant oils and handwoven charms, all wrapped, and all addressed to theLady of the Eyrie.
And stars help me, I was proud.
Proud she was mine.
Even if this was never the plan.
Even if I should have kept my distance.
Even if I’m starting to crave her happiness more than that damned crown.
My voice is gentler than I expect when I ask, “Are you feeling well,Myrrin?”
She doesn’t look at me.
Her gaze stays fixed on the tapestry.
The one woven with shadow-thread and light-silk, depicting the final moments of the last Unicorn of Nightfall.
Jules tilts her head slightly, voice barely a whisper.
“This tapestry makes me feel sad. But I don’t understand it. What is it showing me, Alaric?”
I move to stand beside her, keeping a careful distance.
Close enough to feel her warmth.
Far enough not to spook her.
“It’s showing the last of the mystical horned beasts of Nightfall. A Unicorn,” I begin, and even saying the word hurts.
She finally glances at me, her brows drawing together.
