Astoris raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you tell yourself? That she’s just a distraction? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like she’s become a lot more than that.”
I don’t answer, my thoughts tangled in the mess of emotions I’ve been trying to ignore. The truth is, Eira isn’t just a distraction. She’s become something far more dangerous—aweakness.And in my position, weaknesses can get people killed.
“I can’t be with Eirabella,” I repeat, as if by saying it over and over again, I can convince myself it’s true. “You know that, As. Her status, her... everything. It’s not possible.”
Astoris shakes his head, a wry smile on his lips. “So you’ll push her away, pretend like you don’t care, and drown yourself in ale? That’s your plan?”
“I don’t have a choice,” I snap, the frustration boiling over. “What do you want me to do? Admit that I’m falling for her? That I think about her every damn second of every damn day? That I hate myself for wanting her? That… it would scare you to know the things I would do to protect her, the things I’d sacrifice to have her, just for one day.”
Astoris leans back, his expression unreadable. “You’re so busy convincing yourself that you can’t have her, that you’re not even seeing what’s right in front of you.”
I stare at him, my mind reeling. “What are you talking about?”
“Shecaresabout you, you fucktard,” he says, his voice softer now. “But you’re too wrapped up in your own guilt and duty to see it. I saw the way she was watching you at… at your mother’s funeral procession. And now you’re pushing her away because you’re scared. Scared that if you let yourself feel something for her, you’ll lose control.”
“I can’t afford to lose control,” I murmur, my voice hollow.
“You can’t afford to lose her either,” Astoris counters. “But that’s exactly what you’re doing. And you’re an idiot if you throw away someone who cares about you like she does.”
The night wears on,and with each passing hour, the alcohol dulls my senses more, blurring the edges of my thoughts. I drink to forget, but all it does is bring the memories into sharper focus. The feel of Eira’s lips on mine, the way she’d trembled in my arms… her sweet, plump lips warm and so fucking delicious against mine.
Astoris watches me, his expression a mixture of pity and frustration. “You’re a damn fool, Rylan,” he mutters as he finishes his drink. “You’re going to drink yourself into oblivion at this rate.”
“Maybe that’s what I need,” I mutter, though the words sound pathetic even to my own ears.
He sighs, “I’m going to ask you again, is this about Val?”
I glance up at him, knowing the pain in his eyes is mirrored in mine. “Will you hate me if I say no? That as much as… that will never stop hurting… what I feel for Eirabella, it’s something completely different.”
“Why would I hate you? I’ve told you over and over that it’s time you forgive yourself for what happened. One of us should…”
We sit in silence for a moment, and I reach over and tap his hand in solidarity.
Finally, Astoris shakes his head and stands up, tossing a few coins on the table. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before you do something even more stupid.”
I don’t resist as he hauls me to my feet, the room spinning around me. The walk back to the castle is a blur, the cold nightair doing little to sober me up. By the time we reach the gates, I’m barely aware of where I am.
“How did you get me inside?” I slur, when Astoris lays me down on the couch in my chambers.
He scoffs as he pulls off my shoes. “If only your guards knew as much about the castle as I do, I’d never worry about you,” he replies with a smirk, though his tone is light.
He pulls a blanket over me, and instantly, it’s like Eirabella’s arms are around me. It’s the same blanket I’d wrapped around her from the picnic on the roof. It still smells of raspberries and honey.
I’m still whispering her name when Astoris’s figure blurs and disappears.
If I’ve ever wonderedwhat it felt like to be brought back from the dead, then I can put that question to bed as I wake with a splitting headache the next morning, my mouth drier and rougher than sandpaper. The pounding in my head is matched only by the pounding on my door. I groan and sit up, wincing at the light streaming through the windows.
I stumble to my feet, staggering to the door.
“Leave me alone,” I somehow say, at the door.
“Open the door right now. Before I kick it down and then knock you over the head with it.”
The threat sounds just about serious enough that I reach out and slowly pull my door open to see a very angry Eirabella standing with her hands on her hips, staring up at me, all five-feet-nothing of her vibrating with anger.
“Prince Rylan, heir to the throne of Celador, Celestaris, mentor to the future Aquilith, and royal pain in my arse!” Eira’svoice cuts through the haze, sharp and insistent. “I have two weeks until the first Keeper trial. And I refuse to lose all three tests to Selene the bitch of the underworld Arenis. So I better see you on the training grounds in fifteen minutes!” She emphasises each word with a jab against my chest with her finger. “And if you’re not there, I’m not going to apologise for what I’m going to do to you if I have to come back here to drag you out there. I hope you’ll make your mother proud and remember that you live in the land of the living! Oh, and for the love of Morath, I beg of you, use some of those fifteen minutes to take a bath. You smell like the hindquarters of a billy goat with a bellyache!”
THIRTY-THREE
