“Did you see Lady DeLacour’s face? I can’t believe you said that.” Ysabella giggled quietly as we walked through the grand halls, passing other nobles and servants as we went.

  “Selene has yet to learn to watch her tongue in the presence of her betters. She brought it upon herself.” Annette’s voice was softer, carrying a melodious quality to it as she spoke.

  “Precisely. Just because you belong to one of the old houses does not mean you can openly disrespect royalty.” I could feel Ysabella’s eyes on my back as we continued our trek through the busy corridors. “She’s lucky that you don't wish her to be whipped for her insults.”

  I lowered my eyes towards the ground, and counted the tiles laden in the floor instead of responding. Selene had quickly become a thorn in my side the last few months. Making snide comments and creating rumors about things I may or may not have done to steal the prince from Beatrice Dalton. But for all of her venom, I’d yet to use my position to stop her.

  If I acted, threatened, punished, it would only create a temporary reprieve. A new scandal which would draw unwanted attention. For all my current sins, I also refused to see anyone punished because of me, and that extended to Selene. Selene, I suspected, also realized this, growing bolder by the day.

  I rarely defended myself against her barbs, but today I’d been worn. Perhaps a lesson in humility would buy me a few days of peace. One could only hope.

  When Vasilisa had informed me that she’d help find Ladies in Waiting to serve me, I’d imagined rude, vain women of the court. Instead I found two young women who had been pushed to the bottom of social standing for so long, that they disliked most of the higher born ladies, making them surprisingly loyal.

  My attendants continued their conversation quietly behind me as we walked. I paused at branch in the hallway, and ultimately turned towards the library.

  Though they came from different backgrounds within the empire, and had not crossed paths often, both girls had become fast friends in my presence. I wished I could join in that friendship, but I didn’t dare. Where Ysabella was young with a barely contained impatience, Annette held herself carefully, preferring observation to action. Between the two of them, they created a balance that helped make the days at court slightly more bearable.

  My mind drifted as I paused outside the library, letting the doorman pull the handle for us before stepping inside. There were a few libraries within the Gold Palace I’d learned. One that was exclusive to the royal family, and one that was open to all. This was the public library, and it contained floor to ceiling shelves of books wrapped in the most elaborate of bindings. The librarian at the other end of the room made to stand at my entrance, but I motioned for him to sit before I began to seek out the row I already had in mind.

  Three months had passed since I’d been claimed by Soren Acacius Cassemir. Nearly three months since I’d willingly allowed myself to become plagued by the nightmares of my father. Three months of waking drenched in sweat, with screams trapped in my throat.

  For years I’d believed that the dreams were a sign of a troubled mind, or paranoia. I’d realized somewhat more recently that they may also be memories trapped against my father’s commands. Forced into the recesses of my mind to be forgotten, until they had begun to bleed over into my subconscious. It was difficult to distinguish which were dreams and which were not. Truly the only way I felt that I could was whether or not Caspian’s golden eyes watched helpless from the corners at my torment.

  It had also been three months since I’d last seen or heard from Sir William Caspian Leander.

  Annette and Ysabella dropped their voices further once inside, moving to the upholstered chairs off to the side while I ducked between the shelves, as was routine. My fingers trailed lightly along the spines of the books, passing titles like An Ode to the Missing Gods, and A History of the Time Before the Fall. My hands stilled along The Godsblessed War and I pulled it from the shelf.

  In light of my former guardian’s absence, and discovering that eidolons could take human form, I’d become obsessed with learning everything about them that had ever been written. From their names, to the kingdoms they’d served and the gods who had made them. I was desperate to discover any piece of information that could tell me more. To understand.

  I didn’t realize I’d been rubbing at the divot over my heart until I stopped. The faint gold thread of my magic which seemed to fade, and then vanish as it left my chest. It was the only one that did that. When I used the eyes of my binding, the lens of my magic, I could see a multitude of golden strings that escaped through my fingers. Those threads stretched thin into the distance, tethered to the rats of my mischief. None of them ended like the one that connected to Caspian, and all I could assume was that he still retained his human form.

  My chest tightened at the thought of his absence. He’d all but promised he’d stay away as long as that bond existed, but that didn’t stop me from trying to call him back.

  With the book in hand, I brought it to the desk just long enough so that the librarian could mark down which title I’d taken. Both Ysabella and Annette found me before I had a chance to leave the room alone, continuing whatever discussion they’d begun as we began our climb up one of many grand staircases to the second floor.

  My rooms were directly above my husband’s in a wing of the palace reserved for the emperor’s immediate family. The guard stationed at the end of the hall nodded his salute as I turned around the corner and moved to my door.

  My hand hesitated on the latch. “Thank you for joining me, you both may take the rest of your day and spend it how you wish. I will send for you if I require your assistance.”

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  “Are you sure you wouldn’t like us to stay and play cards?”

  “I’m sure Ysabella, thank you for the offer.”

  I could feel more than see her turn to look at Annette, who’s eyes bore into my back. I didn’t move as I waited for either of them to push the issue, but after months together, they were finally beginning to accept that I preferred to spend my afternoons alone.

  “Please send for us if you require anything else, your highness.” Annette said and I could hear the rustle of fabric as she bowed.

  I didn’t want for them to leave as I darted into my room and shut the door. Blocking it with my body as I slid to the ground in a pool of my skirts. Silent tears welled in my eyes as my I listened to Annette leading Ysabella away.

  Inside and alone, I could finally let the pain in my chest escape, if only for a moment. Time spent in the palace had not erased the circumstances that had led me to it, though the grandeur certainly tried. I was in isolation. Surrounded nearly at all times, yet entirely alone. No one could be trusted here. Not even Vasilisa, regardless of her kindness, and certainly not my husband.

  I missed Alexia, and no amount of time would change that. I'd briefly been shown the ledger containing all of the brides, just long enough for them to be used in threat of my continued cooperation. She was the Baroness of Oster now. It made her so easy to find that the temptation to send her letters was only stayed by the possibility that Soren would learn of them. As it was, even if I did speak to her again, I wasn’t the same as I’d been. Something irreplicable had broken inside of me that day on the Bridal Path, and it had only started to fester in the months that followed.

  The possibility that Alexia would reject me if she’d known what I’d done since then, if she knew what I continued to do in order to keep her safe, I couldn’t bear it. the mere thought of her rejection only served to make me angry and my heart to ache. I swiped at the tears which had escaped as I picked myself up off of the ground.

  I stumbled towards the crystal pitcher that waited on the mantle and removed the glass stopper to pour a glass of deep red wine. I wanted to dull the hollow ache in my chest, to let the bitter sweetness numb the loneliness and anger that were both my constant companions. The alcohol hit my veins quickly on a nearly empty stomach until even the memory of the forest dream began to fade. It was gone by the time I finished the second glass.

  Already heady, I moved lightly to the windows. The windows here were my favorite part of these rooms, and they nearly took up the entire wall that overlooked the gardens below. I stared through the glass panes at the manicured lawn and cultivated flowers, down to the tall hedges that formed a large and complex maze that I still had yet to venture inside. The garden's guests giggled as they chased each other through the twists and turns, unconcerned of any prying eyes as they were quickly lost to the foliage.

  The door behind me opened softly, and the familiar click of the latch signaled its close. His steps were so sure against the marble that I didn't need to turn around to know who it was that had entered. Only a fool would risk entry to my rooms otherwise.

  Arms wrapped possessively across my shoulders, pinning me against his chest. “Whatever is it that you do all day, that I would predictably find you tucked away in your rooms?” Soren asked, pressing his mouth to my neck.

  I shivered. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, husband?”

  Soren relaxed his grip, letting go with one hand as he reached into a pocket. “This arrived for you today, darling.” Soon a letter was held between his middle and forefinger in front of me.

  A red wax seal pressed over the edges of the parchment, and I knew before I’d even looked any closer what I would find. A vine of thorns wrapped around an outstretched hand. The crest of House LeMont. My house.

  “I wouldn't happen to know why he wrote you, though I can certainly have my theories.” Soren lets go, standing straighter as he moves to lean an arm against the window.

  A dread chill had raced up my spine, and set my hairs on end at the mention of my father, I can’t even be irritated that he’s smudging the glass. The last time I’d dreamt about the duke, he’d had me slash Alexia’s wrists, and then had an essencebinder heal the cuts. Then he repeated it again, and again until I woke screaming and drenched in sweat.

  “I’d be just excited not to see him at all.” I whispered, moving to turn back around and refill my glass for the second time when Soren stopped me.

  Catching me by the shoulder and tilting my chin up to look him in the eyes. A rare display of concern in their emerald depths as he assessed me.

  “Do not fret the duke’s presence, darling. You’re a Cassemir now, and I wouldn’t dream of allowing him near you. Especially since he tried so hard to hide you all this time. He'd never return you.” He paused. “Unless... you wish to return to Astalia with him?”

  “No. Please don't let him take me, I can’t go back.” I pleaded, shuddering at the thought. The last time I’d seen him, he’d commanded me to stab my own eye. If Leander—Caspian hadn’t been there to stop him, I would have. He wouldn’t be there to stop him again.

  Soren didn’t know that, and I didn’t discuss the past. The prince wasn’t interested in my childhood, the activities I enjoyed, or the tasks that I despised. We also didn't discuss my nightmares, as he rarely stayed long enough to witness them.

  What Soren did know, was that I had committed treason, and that to hide me, my father had sold me to wed Count Lovick in exchange for any heirs produced. He also was one of two people in the entire world who knew that I was not without magic. That the binding I possessed was the only mutation of its kind.

  Soren watched me a moment longer. His eyes taking in the tremble of my voice to the way my left hand twitched involuntarily. As if the bones were newly broken.

  “Rest assured, I will not allow a mere duke to take what is mine.” As if to prove his point, Soren crushed his mouth against mine. Nipping at my bottom lip too hard to be playful, I swallowed a whimper. “Rest tonight, you're not as enjoyable when you're scared.” He says it like he‘s offering me a mercy, but I knew better. Soren enjoyed me best when I was angry, savoring my fire like it was a fine bouquet.

  Taking what he’d wanted, he backed away and tossed the letter onto the table as he goes. I don’t turn to watch him leave, waiting until the latch clicks shut before moving again.

  What Soren and I had was nothing more than a ruse. A complicated scheme that kept me out of the dungeons, and away from the empire’s warfront. Out of my father’s hands, as well as the emperor’s. As much as I’d grown to dislike him, I couldn’t not like him either. Soren's intervention had changed the course of my fate, even if I still didn't fully understand the depths as to why.

  For better or worse, he’d made good on his promises, however firmly he forced them. I looked at the envelope again. My fingers prying off the seal as I held my breath. Hearing the deep baritone of his voice as my eyes scanned the all too familiar handwriting.

  Dearest Daughter,

  I’ve come to believe that I may have been too hasty in my arrangements. You can imagine my surprise when I learned of your change in fortune, you’re certainly full of more surprises than I initially thought you capable of. Speaking of surprises, it would seem that you have also taken something from me that you had no right to take. We will have much to discuss upon my arrival.

  Until the Equinox,

  — Jasper LeMont