Page 75 of Songs of Sacrament

I blinked hard. What had I been thinking? Shaan didn’t trust me enough to turn his back on me. He didn’t believe I’d follow through on a simple request. Here I was hoping we could attempt to restore our relationship, like a heartsick adolescent all but begging him, and he didn’t feel the same. No, worse—he despised me. He hated that I’d shown up in his home, regretted that he’d ever met me.

Shaan could tear me apart piece by piece and I would not regret meeting him. So my feelings had always been deeper than his. Plus, I’d harmed him, irreparably. That was on me, and he owed me nothing. It didn’t change the heartache rushing through me like his words had smashed past the last dam of my resolve.

I nodded and called a thrush before sitting at a desk and beginning to write. Shaan stepped up beside me and crossed his arms. My hand shook as I looped out the words expressing as diplomatically as possible that I was currently a guest in the Prasanna palace and intended to return with Lira directly. If Shaan noticed my trembling, he didn’t comment.

As soon as I sent the thrush, he gave a decisive nod. “I’ll let my mother know. She was hoping if I came to speak with you, you might help.”

“You came here at your mother’s request?”

He sneered. “Of course. What other reason do you think would compel me to come here?”

I swallowed and took in his beauty which even disdain couldn’t erase, the slope of his nose, his long lashes, the sharp edge of his jaw. I’d likely never see him in that intimate of a setting again. The knowledge of that would ruin me. “I don’t know,” I whispered.

He grazed his eyes down me once more, strode across the room, and left, the door thunking shut behind him.

I fell back against the chair, too wrung out to cry and too exhausted to sleep. The weight of my body seemed tremendous as I sank against the cushion. The last scrap of hope I’d held onto, nourished like a fledgling bird with a broken wing, died in the room's quiet as candles burned themselves down to nubs. And I didn’t even have the heart remaining to mourn it.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

MARGO

“Where are you heading out to?”Palaria asked from her seat at the vanity. Sweat glistened her brow, and she had her eyes closed as she pressed her fingers into her temples.

I was feeling like shit too. I didn’t know what Lira had done—where she’d gone—but it felt like our magic was cut from us. We were still bound to it, though, and if we didn’t reconnect with the powers soon, it could drain our lives.

I shivered as I pulled silk gloves over my hands. I’d have to worry about that later. Lira would return and we’d navigate these issues. Believing anything else was not something I would accept. “It turns out Sir Eldrick is rather charming.”

Palaria lifted her face, her clear blue eyes covered with a feverish haze. “Good. That’s good, Margo.”

“Can I get you anything while I’m out?” I swallowed past a thickness in my throat and a trickle of sweat glided between my breasts. I wished I was truly leaving to spend the afternoon with Eldrick. Maybe sexual release could override the churning misery and buzzing headache.

“No. I’ll rest for the afternoon.”

“All right.” I stood and walked to the door.

“Oh, Margo?”

“Yes?” I turned back. Palaria had her pale curls loose around her shoulders over a ruffled dressing gown. Even ill she was beautiful.

“If you hear anything about Lira, I want you to inform me at once.”

“Of course.” I nodded and stepped out of the room, clicking the door shut behind me. If Palaria cared about Lira’s well-being, it might shift my opinion of her some. We all had to do what we must to survive, after all. The issue was, Palaria only wanted Lira back so she could use her. She didn’t give a damn what happened to her aside from the fact that she heldhermagic.

I walked down the hall and nodded at guards who stood at the stairs as I walked up. One cocked an eyebrow but didn’t stop me. Upstairs were residential areas and the King and Prince’s private quarters. But I’d already been up here by invitation the day before. The guards knew I’d gone to Eldrick’s room and likely assumed I headed there again. One even gave me a careful once-over and his lips pinched.Damn Eldrick and his luck, his face seemed to say. I offered him a flirtatious smile, and he bobbed his head though his jaw tensed.

It was with that attitude that I sashayed up the stairs, passing every guard along the way. When I reached the top, I had to practice more discretion. Eldrick’s room was to the left, but the King’s office was the last room on the far right of the hall. That little nugget of information was thanks to Earie. Damn, maybe I could navigate politics after all.

I eased down the hall, waiting for guards and thinking of how I could flirt or excuse my way out of why I was somewhere I shouldn’t be. Except there wasn’t a guard in sight. That sent a skitter down my spine. Why wouldn’t the King have his most private chambers guarded?

I reached the last room and looked over my shoulder before grabbing the key from my pocket—the spare one I’d nabbed from the housekeeper’s office. I slid the key into the lock and walked into the office, shutting the door behind me. I didn’t sense any wards which also felt off. I’d just have to move through the room quickly.

Something about the way the chamber was positioned on the corner of the palace, other rooms jutting farther out, blocked sunlight and left the space dark and filled with shadows. Bookcases wrapped around the walls, ending at a quiet fireplace and two large windows that let in limited light.

I stepped around the bookcases and trailed my fingers over the spines. Many of the books were not in the common language, and I didn’t know Seelie. I walked over to the desk. Piles of papers sat arranged in neat stacks and I lifted one and shuffled through it.

I stopped at sketches of weapons—darts and spears and arrows—and held my breath as I read the hand-written notes on the edges.Imbedded Amentium drains magic.

I brushed my thumb over the word. Amentium. I’d never heard of that.

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