Page 282 of The Ascended
"Patience?" She leaned closer, her voice dropping to an intimate murmur that would appear affectionate to any observer. "I've been patient, my prince. Watching you find excuse after excuse, distraction after distraction. But we both know this dance must end eventually."
I went still at the thought. Because I knew it would end. And it would end today.
"After all," Nyvora continued, her nails pressing just hard enough against my sleeve to be felt, "we wouldn't want any... misunderstandings about where loyalties lie. Not when so much depends on unity between our domains."
A threat wrapped in silk and perfume. How perfectly Nyvora.
"Of course not," I murmured.
"Wonderful." She released my arm, but only to link hers through mine. "Then you won't mind accompanying me for the next dance. People should see us together, don't you think? A united front is so important during these transitional times."
I stopped walking, forcing her to halt beside me. "Actually, I do mind."
Her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose, but her smile never wavered. "Oh?"
"I have pressing matters to discuss with my father." I disentangledmy arm from hers with deliberate care. "I'm certain you can find another partner."
"Pressing matters?" Her voice dropped, sweet as poisoned honey. "More pressing than your future wife?"
"You're not my wife, Nyvora." I stepped back, creating distance between us. "And yes, more pressing."
Panic cracked in her expression, but was quickly masked. "Xül, wait." She reached for me again. "I need this. You don't understand—I need to get away from her."
I paused, studying her face.
"My mother controls everything," she continued, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Every breath I take, every move I make, every thought in my head. This marriage—it's my only chance at freedom. At having something of my own." Her fingers twisted in the fabric of her gown. "I need you, Xül. Not just the alliance, not just the power."
"Nyvora—"
"I know you don't love me." The admission slipped from her lips. "I'm not asking for that. But we could have an understanding. A partnership. I'd be a good wife, I swear it."
For a moment, I almost felt sympathy. Almost. But then I thought of Thais. A chance at something real. Of the future I'd already chosen.
"I'm sorry," I said. "But I can't be your escape route."
The vulnerability vanished as if it had never existed. "You'll regret this," she said, her voice returning to its usual sweetness.
"I'll face the consequences.” I inclined my head, the barest acknowledgment, then turned and walked away. “Find another way out, Nyvora. This isn't it."
I could feel her gaze burning into my back, could sense the whispers that followed my rejection of her public display.
Let them whisper. I had more important concerns.
I found Thais in the crowd before she sensed my approach. Mystarling. Utterly unaware of how every divine gaze tracked her movements.
I moved through the bodies silently. When I reached her, I couldn't resist the touch—my fingers found the small of her back, that spot I'd discovered made her breath hitch.
She shivered at the contact, and satisfaction clawed its way up my chest. Even surrounded by the mass of admirers, her body knew mine.
"Golden eyes suit you, starling," I murmured against her ear, allowing my breath to ghost across her skin. I watched goosebumps rise along her neck and fought the urge to press my lips there, to mark her in front of all these vultures circling.
"Now I'm off to have some difficult conversations." The understatement of the century.
Her face shifted with understanding, and my chest tightened. She knew what this meant, what I was risking. Her hand found mine in the press of bodies, hidden from view, and squeezed.
"Good luck," she whispered.
I allowed myself one more moment, memorizing how she looked in this instant—fierce and beautiful and mine. Then I stepped back, letting the crowd swallow the space between us.
