The moment she could breathe again, tears slid over her lips, the salty brine swirling against her cup as she silently spiraled in her favorite chair, with her favorite tea, without any of her favorite people.
ChapterThirty
“Princess?”
Lunelle paced beyond the balcony doors, the fluttering stars of her Trial Ball dress falling like rain behind her as she twisted and turned. She looked toward the hall, where Arcas stood wrapped in a silver tunic to complement hers. Her mother was irritatingly good.
Her heart sparked to life, as did the tender spot beneath her ribs, followed by a sickening churn in her stomach.
“Arcas—”
He reached for the edge of the door, running his thumb over the stone.
“Do not send me away. Please.”
She sighed. She was, indeed, about to send him away rather than confront the complex feelings that pulled at her muscles and swirled in her spine.
“I brought you a gift,” he mumbled, holding something out to her.
She eyed the box skeptically. “What is that?”
Arcas rolled his eyes, moving closer.
“Just take it, Lunelle,” he said. He pushed the small box into her hands, crushed black velvet lining the top. Lunelle cracked it back and held her breath as a delicate silver and sapphire ring caught the flickering light above.
The center stone was flanked by two deep, nearly black crystals, humming to life as she brushed her fingers over them.
“Arcas, I cannot?—”
“Even if I perish in the Nether, even if you feed me to unimaginable creatures—which I would not fault you for—you should have it. It is a coronation gift, not an engagement ring.”
Lunelle felt that twisted thing within her whisper sweet curses, pushing her toward him.
“It’s stunning.”
“It was my mother’s,” he said, testing the line between them as he toed closer to her. “I was going to pass it down to Yallara, but she insisted you have it.”
Lunelle arched a brow. “Yallara insisted?”
Arcas’s lips twitched into something like a smile.
“She said it would sing for you… does it?”
Lunelle ran her fingers over the stones, their gentle whirring vibrating against her skin. She nodded.
“My mother… she had an affinity for the Descended. They sang to her, too.” His eyes dropped to the box in her hand. “I never quite understood it, but perhaps you can hear what I never could.”
Lunelle’s chest tightened as she closed the box. She glanced over the prince’s shoulder at the balcony doors.
“I suppose I should get downstairs,” Arcas said, swallowing something she’d wished he had the nerve to speak aloud.
“Arcas—”
“Do not hurt my feelings tonight, starling,” he whispered, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on her cheek. It was the most chaste touch they’d ever shared, and yet it felt more intimate than when they were pressed against one another, without a stitch between them.
“Thank you,” she said as he left the room. She wondered if he’d heard her—if he knew she was not thanking him for the ring. She could feel his half smile slide down whatever dark portal lived between them as he disappeared.
“What a stunning piece,” Lura said over her shoulder, slipping out of the shadows.
