Araya flipped curiously through page after page of cramped notes, packed full of documentation about interactions with the mists that towered over the Shadowed Sea, highlighting anything that pointed towards the mists being something more sinister than a natural occurrence. Every word drew her in deeper, until the rest of the world faded away.
Jaxon suspected the shadows were a curse. But that didn’t make sense—curses unraveled over time, their power eroded by the natural ebb and flow of aether. Even forbidden magic obeyed rules. And yet…
TheShadowed Veil wasn’t weakening. If anything, Jaxon’s research suggested that it was getting stronger—expanding, even.
Araya stared at the page, searching for another explanation. Maybe he had miscalculated. Maybe his sources were flawed. But Jaxon didn’t make mistakes like that.
In one margin, Jaxon had scribbled a reference to another book, “The Chronicles of Valendral.” The title wasn’t familiar to her, but she recognized the shorthand Jaxon had used, indicating that he had this book in his possession.
Araya straightened, running her eyes over the packed shelves. But there were so many books still stacked and scattered everywhere. In the end, it was only by sheer chance that she found it, still tucked away in a trunk and still swaddled in a protective cloth. Only a piece of parchment tucked into the folds with the title scrawled across it in Jaxon’s handwriting tipped her off.
Araya unwrapped it eagerly, then nearly dropped it, her eyes widening at the sight of the curling script embossed in silver across the thick, dark leather cover.
This book was written in Valenya.
Her hands shook as she hastily rewrapped the book, nearly dropping it. A sick heat rose in her chest, every instinct screaming at her to shove it back in the trunk—to pretend she’d never even seen it.
Where had Jaxon even found it? These books were supposed to begone—burned with their owners. She shouldn’t even be touching it. Not if she wanted to keep her hands?—
“Did you find something interesting, Starling?”
Araya gasped, clutching the book to her chest as she whirled around. Jaxon stood in the doorway, his voice light, his smirk familiar—but he wasn’t alone. Towering beside him in full regalia was his father, High Magister Garrick Shaw.
For a heartbeat, everything in her went still. The weight of the book in her arms turned molten, scalding her palms. She was going to die. They’d kill her for this, bond or no.
“I—” she stammered. “I’m sorry. The inkwell was uncapped. I didn’t?—”
“No need to apologize, Starling,” Jaxon said. He closed the space between them with easy strides, plucking the book from her hands and tucking it under his arm as if it were nothing more than an old journal.
"Now… were you looking for something? Or just exploring? The courier left your trunk in the hall—” his eyes roved over her, his grin widening into something more playful. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Araya glanced down, and the full horror of the situation hit her with mortifying clarity. Not only had she been caught holding a banned book by the most powerful man in the New Dominion, she was wearing his son’s shirt—onlyhis shirt.
“Excuse me.” She darted past Jaxon and his father, racing to the bedroom and slamming the door behind her. Could fae die of mortification? She would have to ask Serafina. Or maybe she would just stay in the bedroom forever.
“Araya,” Jaxon’s voice came from the other side of the door, followed by a soft knock. “May I come in?”
Couldn’t he? This was his apartment, his bedroom. But he’d asked, so Araya stood slowly, pulling the door open. Jaxon didn’t push past her or grab her. He just leaned against the doorframe, staring at her with a mixture of amusement and concern.
“I brought your trunk in,” he said. “I’m sorry we surprised you.”
“Thank you.” Araya stepped back, making room for him drag the heavy trunk into the room. It wasn’t hers—Jaxon must have lent one of his to pack up her things. He rolled it into the middle of the room, the metal latches clicking softly as they settled.
“The courier confirmed he returned the dress to Serafina as well,” Jaxon added, closing the door behind him before untucking the forbidden book from under his arm and dropping it on the nightstand. “Everything is taken care of.”
Araya didn’t answer. All she could do was stare at the book,sitting innocuously on the nightstand like it didn’t carry a death sentence.
“You aren’t in trouble, Starling,” Jaxon said, following her gaze.
“Why do you evenhavethat book?” Araya demanded, unable to keep the edge of panic from her voice.
“Research.” Jaxon grinned at her, all easy charm. “Can you read it?”
“Of course not,” Araya scoffed. “Canyou?”
“It takes me a while,” Jaxon admitted, shrugging.
Araya gaped at him, but he waved off her shock, as if reading a banned language was just another challenge to overcome. “I promise, Starling, I’ll explain everything. But for now, just get dressed and come out—Father was looking forward to dinner with you.”
