No! No.Astra found Lunelle’s eyes across the table.Lux snuck up on me in the roost. He threw himself into Riv’s claws before I could get the warning out!
She saw it then, the blush on her sister’s cheeks. She should have known better—to leave two such formidable creatures alone for months and expect themnotto form an attachment… it was rather silly to think any other outcome was possible.
Her father finally looked away from his plate. “I’m sure Riverion would be nothing but kind to you, Your Highness. He respects the worthy. Right, Astra?”
Lunelle bit back a giggle as Mirquios grinned. She knew her father’s expressions so well, his every intonation, and he was clearly forming the same conclusion she had. Mirquios could hear the amusement in Nayson’s voice as well.
He was fucking with them, but they were too preoccupied with their hands to notice.
Mirquios arched a brow, those bright eyes sparkling with mischief.
“What do you say, Fire Queen? Would I stack up to the commander in your beast’s eyes?”
Luxuros reached for another cup of coffee, the heat rolling off him even more intense than usual.
“Only one way to know for certain, my king,” Astra muttered.
“The commander can have Riverion’s affections,” Mirquios said, sipping his tea as Lunelle watched, a quiet rain flooding her heart. “I will not fight that battle.”
She had never seen her sister remain quiet at a table for so long. As they went their separate ways for the day, she aimed to get the king alone, but it was Arcas who caught her elbow outside the hall.
He reached into his pocket, producing a pale blue envelope.
“Yallara’s letter.”
Lunelle eyed it, her pulse quickening at the possibilities it contained.
“Did you read it?”
Arcas gave her a crooked smile.
“I was tempted. But no, I did not.”
Her heart sank. “I wish I could believe you,” Lunelle sighed.
“I wish you could, too, starling.”
Arcas pushed the message into her hands, the buzz between their fingertips shocking her and sending her back. He seized his moment, the one she knew he’d been searching for since they arrived. He leaned forward and caught her cheek in his hand, whispering, “As pathetic as it is to admit, I’ve missed you.”
“Arcas,” she sighed, pulling from his touch. Pain pooled in his eyes, perhaps surprising both of them. “Do not pretend to care about me?—”
“Idocare about you, Lunelle, despite your clear disdain for me. I do not just miss you in my arms, I miss you in myhead. I miss your blunt critiques, I miss your disapproving glares, I miss feeling like a disappointment to you?—”
“Do not worry to that end,” she scoffed. “You are still a grave disappointment to me, Prince.”
Arcas could not even pretend to be wounded. He smiled.
“Why does it feel like an honor to be your enemy?”
Lunelle laughed, despite herself, and rested her hand on his chest, adjusting the soft lining on his tunic. The anger she felt dissipated at the concave of his sternum beneath his chest.
Arcas was not a monster. He was an idiot.
“You do not have to be my enemy, you know.”
He stepped closer, dropping his tone. “The ally slot on your dance card appears to be filled. I have to find a way in somehow, don’t I?”
She resented the thrill it sent through her—the way he closed in around her. Resented the way his lips dragged across her ear and neck as he whispered. Resented the way she both wanted to wring his neck and taste the taut ocean skin that stretched across it.
