I look up at Asha, tears stinging my eyes. “It’s beautiful.” Emotions thicken my voice as I continue. “Thank you.”
“I know how much you love those poems. I wanted you to have a copy that is as special as you are.”
“Oh, Ash.” I swallow through the guilt.
How can she be so wonderful to me after what I did earlier? I kissed her enemy in this very fortress, welcomed his touch, encouraged it. And now, Asha sits here, smiling at me and giving me presents I don’t deserve.
I clutch the book to my chest. “I will cherish it forever.”
Shame gnaws at my insides as I try to focus on the meal. Each bite of food turns to grit in my mouth, and the wine tastes sour on my tongue.
I glance up at Asha, at the love and affection shining in her eyes, and my heart twists painfully. She has no idea what I’ve done, the betrayal I’ve committed.
If she knew, would she still look at me with such warmth and tenderness? Would she still want to call me her sister?
I excuse myself from the table, mumbling that I need fresh air. Asha’s concerned gaze follows me as I leave the room, but I can’t bring myself to meet her eyes. I’m afraid of what she might see there.
As I step out into the cool night air, I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head.
It doesn’t work.
Jasce is there, in every thought, every heartbeat, every breath. And I know, with certainty, that I won’t be able to stay away from him, no matter how hard I try.
ChapterEight
ANNORA
Cool air brushesmy cheeks as I slip through the archway into my sanctuary—the garden. I wander along the gravel path, my fingers trailing over the dew-kissed blooms. Roses unfurl their delicate spirals, while irises stand tall.
I reach my favorite spot and sit on the bench nestled under a weeping willow. A rustle to my left draws my attention as my mother moves between a row of hedges and comes to a stop near me, her expression softer than the night of my birthday.
I shift to make room for her, but she remains standing.
“That gown fits you.” Her stare shifts over me, lingering on my unveiled face. “It almost makes you look like a proper lady.”
Almost?
Well, I suppose that is better than not at all.
She steps closer, her perfume enveloping me in a cloying sweetness that makes my stomach churn. “If only you could behave like one.”
I curl my fingers into the fabric of my cotehardie and squeeze. “I’m trying.”
“Are you?” She arches a sculpted brow. “Because from where I stand, it looks like you’re still chasing after fantasies.”
My heart stumbles. Does she know about Jasce?
“I don’t know what you mean,” I manage after a moment.
She laughs, a cold, brittle sound that scrapes along my nerves. “Don’t play coy with me, Annora. It doesn’t suit you.”
She reaches out, her fingers grazing my cheek. I fight the urge to pull away, to escape her touch. “You would have been so beautiful if your grandfather had allowed me to call for a Kyanite healer. Instead….”
A familiar ache blooms beneath my ribs at the bitterness haunting her eyes.
“I…” I swallow and muster the courage to speak the words. “I would like to know about my silver magic.” Her mouth thins, but I refuse to be silenced. “Is there someone in Bakva who could teach me how to use it?”
When she remains silent, I try again. “Emerin knows about her healing magic. She’s a fantastic healer. I want to learn about my magic, so I can understand myself better.”
