My gaze drops to my hands. “So why was she there? Why did the humans attack?” I almost plead, feeling the hope of any lead slipping away.
“Honestly…” His voice is slow, considering. “There’s no evidence that humans are hostile towards us at all.”
I search his eyes. “But the report said?—”
He cuts me off. “I know what the report says—it looked like the humans attacked. But there was no indication they had reason to.” He says it even more slowly, like I should know what that means.
It looked like they attacked…Possibilities swirl in my head. “You think it was a set-up? That the humans were made to look guilty? Who would do that?”
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His black eyes are aglow with…anger? Suspicion?“I think it wasVarethiel.”
Suddenly it’s hard to breathe. “Why would the other Castara kingdom want to kill their own princess?”
“Because they can’t be content with the power we’ve already granted their king and his council.” His jaw ticks. “There are mummers of rebellion in Varethiel. That they want out from under Vaylorian rule.Ingrates.” If possible, his eyes are evendarker. “I believe they staged the whole thing to make us look weak.”
My heart is pounding. I had no idea Varethiel was unhappy. And Caspien is, in fact, looking into Nova’s death. And from what little I’ve learned from the servants, internal politics makes a lot more sense than the humans.
Caspien’s eyes move towards the door and back to me. “I need to get ready for a meeting. Just know I’m looking into this. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe. You’re going to be my queen.” He smiles. Then he’s on his feet, moving us to the door.
When I go past him at the threshold, he halts me with a hand on my upper arm. An icy chill pricks my skin. His other hand lifts, and he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “Thanks for coming by,” he says, leaning close.
I swivel my head to the side, for some reason afraid he’s about to kiss me. I don’t know if his lips ever even meet my skin. But when my eyes land on the doorway across the hall, I’m fighting a sudden wave of dread.
Cillian is standing there, watching us.
Chapter
Fourteen
NISSA
Cillian’s ocean blue eyes flare as they bounce between the two of us. Tension wraps tight around my heart. I watch as his flat expression takes in the state of his brother and the intimate hold he has on me. Every muscle in his body is taut, his jaw tight as he grips the doorframe with a single hand that I’m worried may splinter the wood.
“Brother,” Caspien greets, unaware of the fact that my world has just come to a screeching halt.
My heart stutters at the word, or maybe it’s the look on Cillian’s face. It shouldn’t matter to me that he thinks I spent the night with his brother, but my brain cannot function knowing that he does.
Cillian ignores his twin, eyes slowly moving from my head to my toes and back again, like he’s searching for some evidence to confirm or deny what he suspects.
He clears his throat. “Princess, I was just coming to find you.” I flinch at his even tone and the use of my official title. “You have a dance lesson today. My mother asked me to assist.”
Unable to form words, I nod and slide fully into the hallway, making sure not to touch Caspien on my way out.
I start off towards the ballroom, and Caspien calls, “Have fun,” after us before I hear the echo of his door closing behind me.
My entire being is at war with itself, my heart heavy in my chest. I don’t owe Cillian any explanation. He ended any type of relationship we had years ago. And I’m betrothed to his brother.
But he is also completely selfless when it comes to the Fae, doing a job that isn’t his. And despite the anger and hurt I am experiencing from what I overheard his family say yesterday, every fiber and cell of my being is urging me to explain that what he just saw is not what he thinks.
When he steps around me to pull the solid wood door to the ballroom back, my gaze stutters on the muscles that tighten his arm. He stands there unmoving and silent until I realize he is waiting on me to enter first.
“Cillian—” I start, deciding my conscience won’t let this go until he knows the truth.
“The dance master is waiting.” He briskly cuts me off and holds his hand out towards the waiting room.
I stand there with that unsettling heaviness still weighing on my heart before squaring my shoulders and walking inside. If he doesn’t want to give me the benefit of the doubt, then maybe he deserves to think what he wants.
An unenthusiastic Isolde is standing in the center of the room with a male Wind Fae who is speaking to her animatedly. He is probably close to the queen’s age, but the smile and excitement in what he is telling her, gives him a childlike quality. The stark difference between the two almost makes me giggle. I unconsciously turn to share the humor with Cillian. He doesn’t even glance down at me as he quickly passes by, moving to meet them at the center of the room.
