“Don’t you think I know that?” He captured my face in his hands, his forehead pressing against mine, those dark eyes pulling me in. “I know that I am fucking this up again, because I always do, and it killsme.Lyr, Baradaz…” His voice dropped to an anguished whisper. “Do you have any idea how much I want you? How much I have always wanted you? What it is doing to me to have you so close to me every single day and not be allowed to touch you, to kiss you, to make love to you? I am burning alive, and you chastise me for begging for more. You wanted me to be truthful to you. So here is the truth. I don’t care if it is madness. I don’t care if you’re a goddess, a queen, or a mortal farmer. I want you to be mine. Mine alone. And that will never change.”
I stared at him, my panic slowly subsiding as I sensed the stark desperation in him. This was no manipulation, no clever attempt to use my desire to put a claim on me once more. He was as lost as me, as afraid to make a mistake.
My hand came up, cupping his jaw, slowly trailing to his lips. “Burning alive, huh?” Quite the apt description for the all-consuming fire raging between us.
His mouth quirked under my fingertips. “Well, I assure you, little queen, one part of me is definitely aching.”
“Poor man,” I answered. “It must be agony.”
He laughed. “Serves me right for choosing such a cruel mistress.” When he pulled me into his arms, I didn’t resist. “Don’t go, Baradaz,” he murmured into my hair. “Nothing has to happen. Just stay with me tonight.”
Nestled against his chest, I listened to his heartbeat, the steady rhythm the most soothing sound I’d ever heard.
“I only wish this could last.” A single tear escaped me and trailed down my cheek, leaving a cool path in its wake.
“It can last,” Noctis answered, his arms tightening around me. “We can make it last.”
Hope. A dangerous thing. Enough to set kingdoms ablaze and topple entire realms. Enough to kill the immortal.
The one thing that had kept me alive through all the anguish and despair.
“So, you’ll help me pack tomorrow?” I asked.
Noctis chuckled. “You know,saeraery, I love giving you a helping hand whenever you need.”
His insinuation earned him a low growl from me. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”
He kissed the crown of my head. “Where would be the fun in that?”
I fell asleep like that: safe in his arms beneath the stars, the world—and its threats—far away, at least for awhile.
CHAPTER
40
THE GOLDEN DAYS OF LYRHEIM
2400 years after the making of Aron-Lyr, 600 years after the creation of Humans
Rada
Imissed him.
I knew I shouldn’t. Perhaps his absence was a blessing in disguise, freeing me from this strange obsession with the darkest of my brethren. It allowed me to focus on my duties once more. On some days, I almost convinced myself of this as I immersed myself in my queenly tasks. As long as I stayed busy, I could avoid thinking too much. I could avoid remembering.
Every mention of Belekoroz during Council sessions threatened my hard-won calm. I hid behind the queen’s mask, appearing aloof when others slandered his name. No one would have guessed that every single time it pierced through me like a knife, even after decades turned into centuries. I still lingered on my balcony for hours on those moonless nights when the stars shone brightest, staring at them and wondering. Had any of it been real? Had he felt anything for me at all? Or had it all been a deception, a clever ruse to dispel my suspicion?
“My lady?” Elodia’s voice pulled me from my reverie. Thehandmaiden stood in the doorway of my study, the room bathed in the warm glow of the fireplace. “The acolytes of the temple have arrived.”
I nodded, forcing a benevolent smile onto my face as the young girls, dressed in flowing white dresses, filed into the room and greeted me with deep curtsies. Most were of Elvish descent, tall and graceful, but there were also Dryads and Djein among them. Even one Human girl, eyes bright with awe, who was struck silent in my presence. She quickly found her voice as we discussed this year’s celebration of the Lyrnight, the longest night of the year. A disbelieving laugh escaped her when Cassia, first of the acolytes and born to the royal Elvish family, fetched the bright silver plate depicting my stars and called the most prominent constellation, the one shining high in the northern sky, the Star Queen’s Bowl.
“’Tis not a bowl,” the Human girl exclaimed, her accent thick. “Every child knows it is hands. Hands reaching for each other.”
My gaze snapped to her. The other acolytes laughed, exchanging looks and whispering behind delicate hands. The Human girl blushed a deep crimson, and I sensed this wasn’t the first time her words had incited their mockery.
“The Star Queen’s Bowl…” Cassia began, her voice smooth and authoritative, but I raised a hand to stop her, my eyes fixed on the Human girl.
“What is your name, child?” I asked gently. She had joined my acolytes only recently, a symbol of the growing influence of her people.
