Page 82 of All the Chaos of Constellations
But he was duplicitous, which made it the more likely that he was the one behind any revolts. Of course he would proclaim they didn’t exist. It was all the more reason to keep Queen Elowyn in the dark if such a coup was indeed in the works. Everyone knew he coveted his mother’s crown. He would murder her in cold blood if given the chance.
Panic crashed into her, a wave of relentless apprehension. A squeezing sensation pinched her lungs, making it almost impossible to breathe. Anxiety scoured her like a blade, carving her from the inside out, its sharpened edge serrating her with alarm.
Prince Drake released her, and she clamped her hand over her mouth, rubbing the sensitive skin now marred from his wicked hold. “Putting together the pieces of the puzzle now, aren’t you,kearsta?”
It was unbelievable.
Aeramere had always been at peace. Her mother’s star readings were always ones of fortune and beauty, all things good in the world. Until the constellations fell into chaos. Until Novalise’s reading upended everything.
Her gasp was hollow, carved out of her. “This is all my fault.”
“No.” Prince Drake’s voice was severe, cutting through her thoughts. “None of this falls on your shoulders. It has been years in the making, seen only by those who choose to believe the gravity of the situation.”
She stole a hasty glance at the dais. Ariesian no longer stood alongside the other members of the High Council, and Prince Aspen was gone.
“Does my brother know?” The beating of her heart drowned out her pleas. “Have you told him what you told me?”
The shadow prince’s face remained impassive, an impenetrable façade of hardened stone. “I’ve warned him in as many words, yes.”
It wasn’t an answer. Not exactly.
“If I were you,” Prince Drake said, his voice eerily mild, “I’d keep a steady eye on the company you keep and listen for the hushed conversations when they think no one else is listening. Walls have ears, trees have stories, and even rivers and lakes keep secrets of their own.”
Novalise’s jaw dropped open. “Are you suggesting I eavesdrop?”
Never in her life would she have considered such a thing, but the shadow prince made it sound achievable.
“If you want your house to survive.” His reply wasn’t a threat. It was an ominous foretelling of a promise not yet kept.
“Aeramere hasn’t seen war in years.” She glanced up to the night sky, where the stars burned, where the constellations danced. If what Prince Drake said was true, and this battle came from the inside, the houses would crumble. Allegiances would be chosen, they would fight one another, losing all sense of loyalty to their realm. Without Queen Elowyn, the Veil would collapse, leaving Aeramere open to invasion. Despite the warm summer night, Novalise was cold. Frozen by fright. “It could be the end of us.”
“War is how all kingdoms rise and fall, my lady. Do not fool yourself into thinking they are created by the good deeds of the noble.” Prince Drake plucked a flute of red wine from the tray of a passing servant. “They are built from the ashes of war, born of bloodshed and strife.”
“But—”
“It cannot be avoided.” The shadow prince downed the wine, inspecting the glass. His gaze snagged upon hers from over its rim. “You of all people should know the stars never lie.”
He was right and she loathed him for it.
All around her, the merriment appeared too strained, like it was contrived from a false sense of happiness. She wondered how many fae from other houses knew about the depravity lurking within their realm, how many of them hid secrets behind their coerced smiles.
“If you’d excuse me,” Novalise murmured, determined to find Asher. He would know what to do and could help her make sense of this mess.
A muscle in the shadow prince’s jaw ticked. “You should really let him come to you.”
Snagging her last shred of courage, she glared up at him. “I’m done waiting.”
He didn’t even blink. “If you insist.”
Prince Drake remained motionless, uncaring and uninterested in her determination. She spun away from him, anticipating the moment he would drag her back to him, but this time, he let her go. Perhaps his demands of her were all for show, a means to taunt the other houses, to parade her around like a prize.
Novalise offered small smiles to everyone she passed, keeping her pace calm and ladylike. With every inhale, the bodice of her dress became unbearably tight. The second she was in the gardens of House Emberspire and free from the inquisitive eyes of other nobles, she hoisted the hem of her gown with both hands and ran.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Novalise expected to find Asher in his study, but the bond between them lured her through the gardens of House Emberspire and into the surrounding woods. She followed the tug, the familiar pull of longing, picking up her pace as she dodged low-hanging branches and avoided tripping on overgrown roots. Thorns from bushes blooming with wild roses snared her gown, shredding the fabric, their tiny points scraping across the flesh of her upper thigh. She winced, sucking in a breath through her teeth, ignoring the pinpricks of crimson dotting her skin.
Nothing would slow her down.
