Now it is my turn to cup his face, rising on my tiptoes to reach him, but still he tries to turn away, as if too burdened by guilt to meet my gaze. I inhale deeply, trying to match the rise and fall of my chest with his.
“Do you know what I thought when I first saw you from that balcony?”
He doesn’t answer, his gaze distant, lost somewhere beyond the trees.
My thumb caresses his sharp jawline, and I sweep his dark hair from his brow, seeking a connection that feels just out of reach. “I thought this is the man who can protect everything I love. I believe that even more now than I did then, Daedalus.”
My words draw him back to the present. “Why?” he whispers, his voice low and heavy with pain.
“Love,” I reply, a smile warming my face. As the warmth of my words fills the space between us, I can almost feel the burdenon his shoulders beginning to lighten. “You have loved and lost, prince. Only someone who has had their heart ripped from their chest can possess the strength it takes to protect others from that same agony. How fortunate I am to have the warrior prince as my champion.”
His hand moves atop mine, and he closes his eyes, leaning into my palm. “Amara,” he whispers, “I want to protect you…but there is so much you do not understand.”
“Then tell me,” I urge, the heat between our bodies drawing us closer.
“I want to,” he mutters, our lips tantalizingly close, the taste of his unspoken words lingering in the air. “But I cannot.”
“You must let me in, husband,” I plead, nearly begging. “I want to help you. I want to trust you. Please.”
He swallows hard, the lump in his throat a reflection of the turmoil between us. His eyes slowly open, revealing a storm of emotions, and he pulls my hand from his face, pressing it against my side as if giving back everything I’ve poured out to him. Anger flickers within me, mingling with sadness and that dull ache that fills my chest, leaving me feeling hollow.
“I will protect The Grove. You have my word,” he rasps.
Before I came to Baev’kalath, that was all I wanted from him. But now I selfishly desire so much more.
We return to the castle, the silence stretching between us, heavy and infinite. Each step feels like a weight, a reminder of the barriers that still stand between us. I want to be his light, to show him that tenderness can exist even amid darkness, but how can I do that if he refuses to let me in?
I remain in my room as the preparations for the Lover’s Eye celebrations unfold outside. The rich aromas of freshly baked bread, sweet treats, and roasted vegetables waft through my window, courtesy of Solena’s bustling kitchen. My gaze drifts to the dress lying on the bed—an offering from Solena, I’m sure,pulled from the depths of the wardrobe as a suggestion for tonight’s festivities. Unlike the heavy, beaded gowns I endured in Baev’kalath, this one is light and flowing, crafted from midnight blue silk that feels like pure bliss beneath my fingers.
Yet, I am not tempted to leave my room. My frustrations toward Daed linger, a stubborn weight that keeps me rooted in place. With one hand, he offers me everything—his protection, his desire, perhaps even fragments of his heart. But with the other, he pushes me away. I feel the ache of his loss, knowing all too well what it means to lose a parent without ever truly knowing them. If only he would let me in we could console each other, share our wounds and find solace together.
Laughter drifts up from the garden, Solena and Orios enjoying the moment, the clinking of glasses signaling that the wine is flowing. As the sun sets and the full moon rises, its silver light spills over the turbulent ocean, the sound of crashing waves in the distance enhancing the beauty of the night.
“Princess Amara!” Solena calls.
I ignore her at first, then again the second time, but by the sixth, frustration propels me to the window. I lean over the balcony to find her waving, her pale skin glowing in the moonlight, her low cut dress clinging enticingly to her form.
“What is it?” I grumble, arms crossed defiantly over my chest.
“What do you mean? It’s the Lover’s Eye! Come down and eat and drink with us.”
I shake my head firmly. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
Solena narrows her eyes, that penetrating gaze seeing right through me. “Princess,” she says again, her tone now sharper. “I’ve prepared a delicious feast and found enough fine wine in the cellars to fill the ocean. Please join me.”
My stomach gurgles in protest, as if it, too, can scent the enticing aroma of spiced pumpkin. I glance down at the beautifully set table, draped in white linens, and see Orioslighting the lanterns strung between the trees, their soft glow suitably romanticising the scene. Daed is absent, and that’s the first thing I notice.
“Fine,” I call down. “But only because I’m starving.”
I’m always starving.
“Thank you, Your Highness!” Solena replies, and as I step away from the balcony, she adds, “Put on the dress.”
I stare at the dress for a while, torn between the idea of joining the festivities and the comfort of sinking beneath the covers. Eventually, I slip into the dress Solena has chosen, immediately noting how it mirrors the light and daring nature of her own attire. The back plunges almost to my tailbone, while the front sweeps across the tops of my breasts, leaving just enough to the imagination. The long, flowing sleeves are made of a sheer fabric that sparkles like stars against the midnight blue silk.
With my hair cascading over my shoulders, I head downstairs, joining them in the garden as Orios lights the last lantern.
When I reach Solena, her laughter rings out, warm and inviting, yet I notice her wine remains untouched on the table. Orios wraps his arms around her, burying his face in her neck and smothering her with deep, lingering kisses. A pang of jealousy twists in my stomach as I take a seat at the table and turn my gaze away. Solena tangles her fingers in his hair, giggling as his hand roams over her hips, and regret settles over me. Is this the sway of the Lover’s Eye? Does it turn people into lovesick fools who can’t keep their hands to themselves?
