Lunara’s brow furrowed, her confusion evident, and she swiped her finger across each cheek. The expression melted away upon contact, replaced with an apologetic smile. “Oh, I-I hadn’t realized I’d been crying.”
Nor did she seem to noticehisstruggle whatsoever.
The stunning Sorcerit turned to the window again, robbing him of the feel of her. “I’m not hurt, Highness. Quite the opposite, actually,” she said with a dazed sort of laugh.
One word from her, and he was himself once more. Faint nausea swirled as the violence left him with shocking ease. If he’d been wanting proof… No. He wasn’t going there. Not?—
“I’ve never seen Solyrian before.”
“You what?”
Brand might have assumed her to be exaggerating, but she was staring outside with such wonderment, as if this really was her first time in true daylight.
“How is that possible?”
Lunara lifted a brow, a shadow passing over her features. “I haven’t had the opportunity,” she said—a littletoolightly.
It was clearly more than that, Brand noting her feigned nonchalance, but he ignored the tiny falsehood and chose to focus on the absolute sweetness of it instead. On her being so moved by something as mundane as sunlight.
“I came down before dawn broke,” she said, voice hushed. “My room faces the mountain, and I wished to witness the Serpent Sea sparkling below my first glimpse of Solyrian.” She glanced over one shoulder, shy. “Seemed like the more romantic of my choices, since I’ve never seen a sea either. Not that there are many.”
Brand swallowed. “And how do you find it, my lady?”
Lunara laughed, the sound reaching into his chest. “Quite stirring. Obviously.” All the air left the room when she turned towards him, suddenly serious. “I don’t believe we were properly introduced last night, Your Highness. Forgive me.” She bowed her head ever so slightly before meeting his eyes again. “I am Lunara. Just Lunara. It’s wonderful to finally make your acquaintance.”
Brand couldn’t resist claiming one of those dainty hands in his own, his heart pounding. “Hello, Lunara.”
His fingers engulfed hers. So small. Fragile. Should he lay a chaste kiss there like his brother so easily had last night? Or?—
No. A bow was safe, easy.
Except he didn’t bow, or take a step back, or let go. He just stood there, staring at her like a hopeless fool.
Brand sent out a desperate plea to the Unknown, beseeching the Sisters to temporarily grant him a single ounce of the charm they’d gifted Magnus. Just enough to get him through the rest of this encounter without cocking it up.
Words. Words were good.
“Please,” he said, his voice cracking. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Please, call me Brand. All my friends do.”
Say it,he silently begged.Please, say it.
“Tell me, Brand,” Lunara said, breathless and granting his wish, “do all of your friends receive such greetings from you?”
She threw a pointed look between them, where his thumb was absently stroking the inside of her wrist, over a particularly captivating freckle of iridescence.
He dropped her hand like it was made of hot coals, mortification prickling across his cheeks. “My apologies, Lunara. I seem to have forgotten myself.” His voice was curt, the usual walls snapping back into place.
She laid a hand on his forearm before he could escape. “I find that, for once, I don’t mind not being like everyone else.”
Brand ignored the cryptic nature of her words in favor of hoping that wasn’t pity she was offering.
He didn’t want pity. Not from anyone.
“I—”
“What have we here?” Mag’s voice was like having a bucket of ice water thrown over him.
“Sisters save me,” Brand whispered under his breath.
