“You’re right. I’m actually mad with envy,” he murmured.
“Envy that you did not get invited or envy that I split my attention?”
Arcas sighed, stepping into the library, but leaving the door open.
“I do not need to compete for your attention, Lunelle. You’re a grown woman. You should bestow it on whomever you please—even on spoiled princesses and self-righteous kings.”
She swallowed a defensiveness sparking in her chest.
“He isn’t nearly as self-righteous as you are?—”
“Let’s not fight.” Arcas sat beside her.
“Fair enough. I meant to ask… what flows through the pools?”
Arcas raised his brows. “Yallara hasn’t bored you to death with the legends? I’m surprised. She loves talking about them.”
Lunelle shook her head. “She has not.”
Arcas twisted so his long legs fell over the edge and made space for her to move closer. Lunelle kneeled against the glass, looking over the pools as they whispered into a river of starlight.
“They are Souls,” Arcas whispered, watching her brows as they furrowed.
“How—”
“At least, that’s what people say,” Arcas amended, grinning as she sighed. “But the liquid itself is only water. It’s actually the stibnite below, the crystals in the catacombs, that give the metallic effect. The water catches the light, and it bounces off the crystals.” He stood, offering her a hand. “You should see them up close.”
Lunelle stared at his fingertips, hovering only inches from her lips.
“They’re even lovelier to touch,” he said, his hand shifting closer. Lunelle rested her palm in his, and he pulled her gently to her feet, winding her through the library’s dense shelves and to a window toward the back corner. He released her hand to pop the frame of the window out of the wall, the pane coming free with minimal effort on his part.
His eyes bounced between Lunelle and the window, only a few feet off the ground.
“Can you make it in that dress?”
“This feels like a contrived trick to get me out of it,” Lunelle muttered as she eyed the frame.
Arcas drew nearer to her, his fingertips skimming her hip. He leaned in, his breath warm on her neck.
“Do you really think I’d have to trick you?”
Lunelle swatted his arm, scoffing despite the thrill running through her spine. In an effort not to give into it, she darted forward, hiking her skirt up over her knees and stepping gingerly over the barrier. She ducked her head beneath the top of the frame and swung her second leg up, dropping to the soft ground below.
The grass swished against her bare feet as she ran along the outside of the ivy-coated palace, her fingers brushing the dense leaves as Arcas hit the ground behind her.
Lunelle jogged forward, heading for the stream of liquid starlight running from below the window she’d been seated beneath and into the gardens.
Arcas caught up to her, falling to his knees at the edge of the pools and holding his hand to her once more. As he helped her to the ground, he reached into the water with his other hand, cupping the silver and bringing it to her face.
“See? Clear.”
Lunelle leaned out over the babbling stream, her reflection warped in this astral version of the palace.
“It’s all an illusion, then?”
“Isn’t everything, to an extent?”
Lunelle looked back toward the prince as he leaned into the garden grounds on his elbow, one leg propped up as if at the beach.
