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  “Wulfric will be here before sundown,” Jyn said, clearing his throat. I could hear the lingering grin.

  Peering out from between my fingers, I asked, “The courier arrived, then?”

  Jyn nodded. “You’ll need to change, to formally receive him. I’ve alerted the kitchens to prepare an extra plate for the evening meal.” His attention snapped to Camion. “Wear formal attire tonight. I’ve already invited Meryn, to avoid suspicion, but mostly to answer any questions Wulfric might have of her. We’ll need to be careful of what we say. Wulfric is still a man of the Council, even if he seems to mean well.”

  “Got it.” Camion’s smile was tentative.

  “You too, Princess. Best behavior.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the nickname, the one I would never seriously ask Jyn to abandon because I valued the familiarity. His brows pinched in confusion and I laughed. “I’ve dealt with Wulfric before. Or have you forgotten, alongside my proper title?”

  Jyn rolled his eyes, pulling a strip of leather free from his belt. He smoothed his ebony hair behind pointed ears, tying it into a loose bun, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

  “Either way, your highness, we need to prepare.” His dark brown eyes slid to Camion. “And you need to see Marius off.”

  Camion blinked. “How did you know—”

  “Don’t bother questioning,” I interjected, sighing. “Jyn knows all, and he’ll never tell you how. But I suppose he’s right. We have to go. I’ll see you tonight?”

  Camion stepped forward, brushing his lips over my forehead again. “Tonight.”

  Jyn tapped his foot. I grumbled under my breath before following him into the palace. He inclined his head briefly at the guards before passing on, but I paused inside the doors.

  I hadn’t changed anything about the palace since Mother’s death, the foyer no exception. The smooth stone walls were still littered with art, and the floors matched. Though, the flooring’s art came in the form of expensive, hand-embroidered rugs that could each pay the servants’ salaries for years. Mother insisted on them. I always felt a twinge of guilt after stepping on one.

  The room was split by a massive staircase, and at the very top I could almost see the red carpets that lined the halls above. She might be gone, but my mother still lingered here. In the art that clung to the walls, the dresses my sister wore, the memories in the back of my mind.

  Jyn paused midway up the staircase, glaring at me with arms crossed over his chest. I sighed again. My chambers were on the third—and top—floor of the palace. Thrais was the smallest palace of the three kingdoms; Kalum was known to be a bit of a maze, though I had never been, and Wydus took too much pride in their high ceilings and spacious . . . well, everything. Even their private bathing chambers were unnecessarily massive.

  Thrais favored smoothed stone architecture, though many of the floors on the upper levels were hardwood that had been polished to shine. A few of the lower rooms, like the ballroom, also boasted hardwood flooring, but mostly they’d been left natural. Guards stood by almost every door, their faces cast with shadows from the flickering candles hidden in sconces across the walls.

  Two of such well-armed men stood outside my door, nodding a greeting as we approached. Security on the palace hadn’t loosened since my return. In fact, Devlyn had tightened regulations further. He tried desperately to find a scapegoat to punish for letting me leave, but I had assured him a dozen times that not one of his men had seen us. This encouraged him to train his men harder. I was surprised none seemed resentful. Maybe they felt guilty.

  The small door in the back wall remained unguarded, however. As much as I had wanted to tell the Captain of the Guard that I was able to open it, I didn’t want to ruin the only unwatched exit I had. Instead, we had told Devlyn that we’d snuck out during shift rotations.

  Not a total lie, at least.

  Jyn swept around the room the moment he slipped through the door, checking every inch—behind and underneath all the cherry-wood furniture, the window, the fireplace. He moved like a shadow, lithe and silent, until he was sure all was well. If I had thought him overprotective before, his vigilance had increased since we discovered that the Imber Scepter was missing. He only relaxed if Camion was with me. Even then he wasn’t quite as calm as he claimed, warily scanning anything that moved.

  Jyn was trying, though, and I appreciated that. Especially when private moments with Camion were scarce.

  Another heavy breath escaped, earning a concerned glance. I shook my head. Raye saved him from questioning me further by opening the door to the bathing chambers, a gown draped over her arm.

  “Your Majesty, I’ve drawn a bath.” Her blue eyes sparkled.

  “Natylia,” I amended. “Thank you.”

  Raye dipped into a shallow curtsy and smiled. Her platinum curls were pinned back today, but they bounced with her steps as she slipped back into the bathing chamber. I followed, undressing and lowering myself into the water while she fussed with hanging the gown on a rack nearby. Another curtsy.

  Then silence.

  My eyes followed a slow path around the walls. This room was layered more heavily with art than any other. Annalea liked to sit in here during the day, to look at the walls and stir a teacup that always wound up cold.

  Mother’s room had been blocked off, per Council’s orders, but I had told Annalea the space was hers once they had finished their investigation. Technically, the room was to go to the immediate heir. I didn’t want it. The memories in the rest of the palace were strong, but her room? She had shared that room with my father . . .

  I already lacked sleep. Nightmares still tormented my dreams. I would never sleep in those chambers again.

  Chapter 2

  Raye returned far too soon. The water soothed the muscles still aching from training, and the familiar scent of honeysuckle soap calmed my nerves. Another hour of soaking would have suited me, but reality beckoned.

  Wulfric shouldn’t intimidate me, not even a little. I had dealt with him several times before. Plus, this time, Jyn and I weren’t alone. Still, my stomach clenched in unease. I didn’t actually know why the rest of the Council delayed, or how much they knew about my absence. Or if they even knew of the Imber Scepter—the key to the prison holding the Titan Eurybia.

  I had no idea where that Scepter had gone. All I had in my possession was a fake that had been left behind by whomever claimed the real one.

  We hadn’t stopped looking for the Imber Scepter this past fortnight, either. At least, we searched as well as we could from the palace. Devlyn and I sent out spies. Most of them returned in a matter of days, each with nothing to report. The itch to leave was getting harder to ignore. I should have been comforted by the lack of news, but my gut twisted with tension instead, the silence growing more unnerving with every passing moon cycle.

  There were three Scepters to be sought, each linked to a Titan, each holding their counterpart in a watery prison beneath Saphir Lake. The Imber Scepter of Eurybia was the only one confirmed to be missing. Our attention was now focused on getting either the Tellus Scepter of Cybele or the Ventus Scepter of Boreas. Alone, the Scepters were dangerous enough. Combined, the three keys could release a fourth Titan, Thanatos, the son of the wicked Valdis. If we stood a chance at stopping the four prisoners from ravaging Araenna, we had to acquire at least one Scepter.

  Several questions remained unanswered. Were the Titans entombed together? Or could they be released individually? We hadn’t found any clues as to how the prison cells worked. All we knew with certainty was that each Scepter contained a chunk of life essence, which granted control over its paired Titan; and when those power-containing gems were returned, the Titans would be unstoppable.

  But if the cells functioned individually, Eurybia could already be free. She could be in Thrais, for all I knew.

  My hands shook where they rested on my stomach. I tried to focus on the insistent pulls of the corset Raye tightened around my middle. The gown she had
chosen was of the deepest purple—simple, elegant, the corset accenting my shape well enough. Thin sleeves attached to a lace overlay that slipped over the corset and fell tight at my waist. I looped a woven black shawl over my shoulders, letting the wrap hang loosely in the crooks of my elbows as I moved to the mirror.

  Raye passed me a sharpened bar of kohl. I drew thick lines along the outside of my lavender eyes before I handed the stick back, then paused to assess my hair. The missing length was still too new—too raw. I had no idea how to style short locks, and the thought of staring at them long enough to learn had my stomach in knots. Raye noticed my struggle. One glance at the frown on my face and she stepped forward to weave two small braids up my temples. She tied them in the back, resting my circlet right above them.

  “Your hair isn’t as bad as you think, Natylia.”

  I sighed. “Yes, but ‘isn’t as bad’ still isn’t the same as ‘good.’”

  “Patience, My Lady. Your hair will grow. You’ll have your beautiful hair back before you can truly miss it.”

  I smiled kindly, returning my stare to the mirror. My face was tanned, a warm brown instead of the pale ivory I had grown accustomed to. Even the freckles across my nose and cheeks were darker, more pronounced. I almost didn’t recognize myself. Everything seemed to be changing lately, including me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the changes.

  Lifting my skirts, so they didn’t trail in the lingering puddles of water that shimmered on the floor, I moved toward my room. Before I opened my door, I asked Raye under my breath, “Did you warn Annalea she might fair better in her rooms tonight?”

  “Yes, My Lady.”

  “Good. Thank you.” I knew that if I asked her, Annalea would fabricate whatever story I told, even if she had to lie about what she knew. Instead of submitting her to the pressure, I had asked her to let me greet Wulfric myself. I hoped one evening was enough time to turn him away from questioning my younger sister.

  Raye pushed the door closed behind me. Jyn lay sprawled across my bed, decked in his dress leathers, holding a book at arm’s length above his face.

  “Okay, but you can’t tell me the giant eagles wouldn’t have been willing to help sooner,” he said mildly, rolling his eyes. He dropped the book to a nearby pile of blankets as he sat up, patting the spot beside him. I straightened my skirts, then perched on the edge.

  “Are you ready to go down?” I asked.

  “Yes, of course.” He surveyed my dress, then pulled at the lacy sleeve dipping over my shoulder. “I don’t know what this is, but I rather like the effect. You almost look royal.”

  “Oh thanks,” I grumbled.

  Jyn shrugged, lips curving into a smile. “Camion and Meryn are meeting us in the foyer.”

  I leapt to my feet. He laughed, shaking his head in mock annoyance. “You must like this one. The last time you responded so quickly food was involved.”

  “Jyn. Best behavior.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” He swept an elaborate bow, then stood and flicked my nose. I rubbed the tender spot, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “Best. Behavior,” I reiterated, lifting my shawl over my shoulders. The slight weight was warm. Reassuring.

  Jyn fidgeted with the daggers in his boots. When he straightened, he moved into a formal posture, following closely. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were bright and alert.

  My dress was long enough that the skirt trailed over the stairs behind me. As we crested the final staircase, the one that descended into the foyer, my heart skipped.

  Camion stood near one of the windows, his back to us. His hair fell loose around his ears, teasing the sides of his face, the sandy blond strands smoothed but still a bit unruly. My attention drifted though, caught on something else. He had found a black, sleeveless jacket that cut off at the waist, fitting his form in a way that flattered every angle.

  And when he turned—

  The front of the jacket was buttoned once, a bit above the waist but off to the side. Along either side of his chest the material was folded back to reveal the long-sleeved white shirt beneath, and a small vee of neck and chest. Elaborate brocade patterns swirled their way across the fabric.

  With a change of clothing, Camion went from ruggedly handsome—my blacksmith and trainer—to polished suitor. Noble.

  No.

  Royal.

  My breath hitched. He quirked a half smile at the part of my lips, his eyes appraising me as openly as I had inspected him. Jyn nudged my shoulder. I stepped down the stairs, and butterflies burst to life in my stomach with each step.

  Camion met me at the bottom, catching my hand and brushing a kiss to the back. “You’re beautiful, Tyli.”

  “I don’t have words,” I murmured, my gaze roaming freely over him once more. A flush spread over his neck and cheeks.

  “Raye brought the jacket to me. I look—” He paused, glanced down at himself uncertainly.

  “You’re magnificent,” I said, my voice breathy. The pink spread to his nose.

  Jyn inhaled sharply, but we were saved from his comments when the doors opened and a whoosh of late-summer air filled the hall. Meryn strode into the foyer, poised and elegant. Her dress was form-fitted, made from a dark green fabric that made her vivid red-orange curls shimmer in the fading sunlight. The neckline was cut high on her chest but, when she spun, the light touched a deep vee of alabaster skin exposed by the low cut of the gown’s back. She still wore layers of crystals on silver chains around her neck. Her eyes glittered with excitement, lines of dark kohl accenting their bright hazel coloring.

  She was beautiful.

  “Is he here yet?” she asked, stepping up beside me.

  I shook my head. “Not yet. We’ll have to wait here to receive him. Sitting is considered impolite.”

  Meryn’s gaze flicked to where Camion’s hand still gripped mine. “You’re going to have to stop that. We don’t need Wulfric discounting you before he hears us out.”

  He dropped my hand and quickly smoothed out the crestfallen expression that crossed his face. I knew Meryn was right, but downplaying our relationship further . . .

  We already knew that we couldn’t be too near each other or touch beyond established lines while the Council was here. Not yet, anyway.

  Lucian had been sore last we’d seen him. After revealing that he may have seen the very Scepter we had been seeking, he had stormed off, insulted that—once again—I had rejected his advances for Camion, a suitor he considered beneath him.

  His opinion didn’t matter. The concern that he may have addressed the Council about my relationship with Camion made me nervous, however. I would rather confront them with the upper hand. In either case, we didn’t need any potential wrath from the Council falling on Camion’s shoulders. Not until he’d had the chance to speak for himself, at least.

  The others spoke around me, but I wasn’t sure what had been said. I turned to Camion, reading the uncertainty that flickered across his face.

  “Hey,” I said softly. He met my eyes. “Too much?”

  His lips curved to one side. “I’m fine.”

  “Liar.” I took a step closer, lowering my voice farther. “You are every bit as worthy to be here as Meryn and Jyn. I know you’re thinking otherwise. I’m going to change that. And when the time comes, no force in the world will keep you from me. For now, we must play their games. But not forever. I promise you.”

  Camion’s gaze fell to the floor. I stepped forward, stretching to brush a kiss to his cheek. His expression brightened, if only a little, before Meryn stepped up next to us.

  “Hands,” she said to Camion. He stared at her blankly. Meryn shuffled her feet, looking up at him with exasperation. “Show me your hands.”

  He held them out, but even I frowned at her in confusion. “Why?”

  “Carbon stains. I can get rid of them,” Meryn explained. She waved her hand over his, the small traces of dark stain vanishing as she added, “You almost made that too easy. You take rather good ca
re of your hands for a smith.”

  He snorted. “I do bathe.”

  “Yes, well. You also apparently know your way around a pumice stone, which isn’t as common as you might think in your profession.” My friend shifted her weight, casting a look in Jyn’s direction. I raised an eyebrow. She shuffled again before admitting, “I’m nervous, all right? I don’t want this to go wrong. For any of us.”

  I reached for Meryn’s hand and squeezed her fingers. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Maybe.” Her throat bobbed.

  Loud voices broke through the silence on the other side of the doors—Devlyn and presumably Wulfric. Jyn stepped to my side, Camion and Meryn flanking us a step behind.

  “Follow my lead,” I murmured. “Wulfric has always been kind to me. This should go well.”

  I didn’t entirely believe myself. Blowing out a breath, I listened as the latch clicked, then watched the handles turn.

  In the moon cycle since I had seen Wulfric last, he hadn’t changed at all. The expensive clothing he had worn for the trip south were disheveled and slightly askew over his stout frame. His pale cheeks bore a rosy flush that seemed almost permanent, his face framed by dark hair. Silver raced up his temples and sparkled in the lingering light.

  Wulfric’s eyes scanned the four of us before he paused and dipped into a clipped bow. He removed the ever-present tobacco pipe from his mouth. “Your Majesty, thank you for attending me.”

  “My pleasure, Sir Wulfric.” I curtsied. When I rose, I waved a hand at each of my companions as I added, “I know you’re familiar with my guard, Jyn, but I’d like to refresh your introduction to my Court Enchantress, Meryn, and present my newly appointed Arms Master, Camion.”

  The man stepped a bit closer and swept Meryn’s hand to his lips. He released her to shake Camion’s hand, saying, “A pleasure to meet you both. Or re-meet, My Lady. A shame that Marius is leaving you. He’s a damn fine blacksmith.”