Jason does not respond at once. He surveys the room one final time before he strides toward the front door, testing the lock with care.
"Making certain we are alone."
I narrow my eyes, crossing my arms as I watch him.
"And why, exactly, are we searching for ghosts in the shadows?"
The words leave my lips before I can stop them, and the irony isn’t lost on me. A ghost. That’s exactly what I had seen. Or perhaps not a ghost—something far more formidable, far more real.
He stops and looks at me, his brow raising slightly.
“Says the girl who talks to herself.”
I tilt my head at his quip, acknowledging the truth with a small nod.
“Fair enough.”
Jason checks behind the curtain, his shoulders tense. I step closer, placing a hand on his arm.
“Hey,” I say softly, trying to ground him. “What’s wrong?”
He looks down at me, his jaw tightening, his posture stiff. For a beat, he doesn’t say anything, as if weighing his words carefully. Then, he exhales and gestures in the air with a small swirl of his finger.
“Do that thing you do,” he says.
I blink, tilting my head in feigned confusion.
"I have not the slightest idea what you mean."
Jason narrows his eyes, unimpressed.
"Don’t play coy with me. I saw you ward the back of the library when we were children so we wouldn’t be caught. You are not as subtle as you believe."
My mouth pulls into a reluctant smile as I meet his gaze.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jason tilts his head, eyes narrowing.
"Lailah, you were the most willful, sharp-tongued child I had ever met. Am I to believe no one ever heard?—"
"Fine," I cut him off, lifting my gloved hand.
With a flick of my fingers, shadows unfurl like creeping vines, seeping into the walls, latching onto the stone. The room is swallowed in darkness, my magic settling into place, sealing us away from prying eyes. The shadows climb upward, weaving a protective barrier that locks out sound and sight. Jason’s smile lingers as he tilts his head slightly, clearly impressed.
“What do you have to say that’ssoimportant I have to use my magic to block it?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“Your father wants us to go on our honeymoon,” he says, his tone measured. “To my lands.”
I narrow my eyes at him, my suspicion growing. My father never allows me to leave the castle walls, his obsessive fear for my safety outweighing every other concern. Suffocating as it is, that fear isn’t misplaced.
Men like Lord Striden are proof of that—men who wear loyalty like a mask, concealing whatever treachery lurks beneath. The memory of what I saw this evening refuses to leave me, the shadows shifting and the whispers I wasn’t meant to hear. If Striden isn’t loyal to my father, he’s dangerous—more dangerous than I can afford to ignore. Unease prickles at my skin, each breath heavier than the last as I try to piece together what it all means.
Jason watches my reaction carefully, his voice steady as he continues, “We’re to leave the day after tomorrow, traveling with the army moving toward my territory.”
I stiffen, the words sinking in.
“And why exactly is this secretive?”
