Page 123 of The Ascended
I did remember. Of course I did.
But my feet carried me forward, out into the misty evening air where Xül’s silhouette stood against the crimson horizon.
Curse the gods.
I was reaching for ghosts again.
Chapter 29
Ghosts in the Garden
I foundhim by the fountain—the one Osythe had shown me earlier with its gargoyles frozen mid-flight. The crimson sky had deepened to the color of old blood, casting long shadows across the garden's winding paths. Xül stood with his back to me, silhouetted against the darkening horizon, his shoulders rigid.
This is madness, whispered the voice of reason in my head.Turn back. Return to your chambers. Remember who he is.
"I told you to never eavesdrop on my conversations again, starling."
He didn't turn as he spoke, his voice carrying on the night air. The words lacked their usual edge—no trace of that cold authority that had made my blood freeze in the prison. Instead, he sounded hollow, almost defeated.
"You weren't exactly quiet," I said, stepping into the open, my guard firmly raised. "Half the palace probably heard you."
He exhaled, a sound too normal for comfort. "And yet you're the only one foolish enough to follow me."
I moved closer, deliberately keeping the fountain between us. "I prefercuriousto foolish."
"A meaningless distinction when the outcome is the same." He finally turned, and I almost faltered at the sight of him.
"That's quite the attire for midnight espionage." The words came low and slow, his tone curling under my skin in all the wrong ways. "Were you planning to distract the palace guards with what that gown fails to conceal?"
My gaze crept down. The robe had fallen open during my descent through the palace, revealing the sheer nightgown beneath.
"I was trying to sleep when I heard you arguing," I lied. "I didn't exactly have time to consider appropriate attire for eavesdropping."
His eyes lingered, taking in the way the thin fabric clung to my body. A muscle in his jaw tightened.
"This is..." he began, his voice dropping lower, "dangerous territory, starling. I'm not in the right state of mind to see you like this—with nothing but that flimsy excuse for clothing between you and the night."
His gaze dropped to where the cold had made its presence known beneath the sheer fabric, the corner of his mouth curving slightly. "The garden air seems to agree with you."
"If you're quite finished," I said, forcing the words through a blush I couldn’t stop.
"Not remotely," he replied. Xül had always seemed untouchable—cold and perfect and removed. But now, that immaculate cover had a fault line tearing through it. His eyes held a weariness I'd never witnessed before, an emptiness he was trying to cloak.
"Come to gloat?" he asked, finally averting his eyes. "The fearsome Prince of Death, brought low by family politics? I'm sure it makes for quite the spectacle."
"If I wanted to gloat, I'd have brought wine," I retorted. "Maybe some cake. Made a proper celebration of it."
The words slipped out, and for a heartbeat, I thought I'd overstepped. Then his lips twitched—not quite a smile, but close enough to make my chest loosen with relief.
"Always so quick with that tongue," he murmured. "One day it will be the death of you."
"Plenty of things are likely to be the death of me in this realm. I'll take my chances with sarcasm."
I became acutely aware of the garden around us—the soft rustling of strange plants, the scent of flowers, the distant call of creatures. Everything in Draknavor seemed to exist on the knife-edge between beauty and terror.
Much like its Prince.
"Nyvora," I said finally, testing the name carefully. "That's who your father wants you to marry?"
