Wiping the sleep from her eyes, Auraelia pushed onto her elbows and reached for the object. A steady, familiar hum of magic vibrated through her palm, and a sense of calm washed over her. She didn’t need to see it to know what it was. The familiar, resonant frequency of the stone nestled within her hand, and the cool, delicate chain told her all she needed to know.
Her sapphire.
Auraelia clutched the gem tightly in her fist and held it against her chest. She’d missed the weight of it sitting between her breasts. Missed the way it brought her a sense of comfort. But most of all, she missed the connection to Daemon that it gave her. An overwhelming wave of emotion barreled into her, causing her hands to shake. Love. Happiness. But the sprinkle of loneliness clenching her heart made her look toward the ceiling and blink rapidly to keep the tears that welled in her eyes from falling.
With a deep, steadying breath, she slowly unclenched her hand and gazed down at the stone. Admiring how the rich, deep blue glittered in the morning light and how Daemon’s shadows seemed to swim beneath the surface. Looping the chain around her neck, she relished the familiar feel of its weight as it settled against her chest. Slipping from her bed, Auraelia traversed the short distance to her writing desk and threw open the top, pulling drawer after drawer open until she’d obtained all the needed materials.
Her heart fluttered in her chest like a field of butterflies taking flight, and as her quill glided against the blank parchment, she smiled.
Folding the parchment into a neat square, Auraelia placed lavender over the opening and pressed her new crest into the wax. It’s been so long since she’d written to him that it felt reminiscent of the first time. Her stomach was in knots, and her heart was pounding. Only this time, there was no wondering whether or not he would receive it. Clutching the letter in one hand, the stone in the other, she pictured the man she finally allowed herself to love. The one who stole her breath with every look, every touch. Who filled a hole in her life that she hadn’t even been aware was empty until she’d pushed him away, and it emptied once more. Daemon’s magic wrapped around her in a familiar caress, and then, within seconds, it and the letter were gone.
After dressing in fighting leathers—the braid Daemon did the night before still miraculously intact—she strapped her dagger to her thigh. She headed into her sitting room, only to be met with Daemon's emissary's discontented, scowling face. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Fuck, lightning girl, took you long enough to wake up. I’ve been here since sunrise.”
“Lightning girl?”
“Well, you told me not to call you Princess, and I’m pretty sure D would have my balls if I called you ‘my star,’” he said Daemon’s nickname for her like it left a foul taste in his mouth before shrugging. “So, ipso facto, lightning girl.”
“You could just call me Your Majesty. Or, I don’t know, here’s a crazy idea, youcouldjust use myname.” Auraelia countered, matching his snark with some of her own.
Aiden thought for a second, then shrugged again and pushed up from the settee. “I think I’ll stick with lightning girl. I feel like it fits your personality.”
Anger coiled in her veins, setting her magic alight, and she tamped it down before sheaccidentallysent a bolt in Aiden’s direction. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
“Oh, that.” Aiden reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment, twisting it between his fingers before he held it out toward her. “This is for you.”
Auraelia all but lunged for the missive between his fingers; its midnight-blue seal was like a beacon to her soul. Prying the wax away, she carefully unfolded the note.
“I don’t need protection,” she muttered to herself.
Aiden scoffed. “I said as much.”
Auraelia shot him a withering stare, then turned her attention back to the letter.
She read the letter twice before refolding it and tucking it between her breasts next to the sapphire.
“So what was in that thing anyway?” Aiden asked as he pushed onto his tiptoes, his eyes trained on the v of her neckline. It was as if he could see down her shirt, and he would be able to ascertain what was written in the letter.
“He asked me not to kill you, so Ihighlyrecommend you stop trying to look down my shirt.” Auraelia's head canted to the side, her eyes wide as her lips tilted up into an unamused smile.
Throwing his hands up in surrender, Aiden plopped back down onto the settee and propped his feet on the low table in front. “So, what’s on the schedule today, Lightning Girl?”
“I swear by the Goddess if you don’t stop calling me that, I’m going to use you for target practice.”
His eyes widened slightly before an amused grin stretched across his face, making twin dimples appear. “Don’t tempt me with a good time,Your Majesty.But, really, what’s on your schedule today?”
“I have training with my Army Commander and a council meeting; why?”
Pushing up from the couch once more, Aiden gestured toward the door with an over-exaggerated flourish. “Lead the way. Daemon may have shadows, but consider me your personal one.”
Clang. Her sword reverberated in her hand as she blocked one of Ser Aeron’s blows, his broad sword wider and heavier than the short sword she carried, sending shock waves down her arm.
“Again!” he bellowed, his anger palpable as he lunged toward her once more. They’d been at this for hours, the sun now highin the sky, its heat dissolving the chill in the air and causing her wool tunic to stick to her skin. Sweat pooled between her breasts, her palms slick as they held tightly to the hilt of her sword, and she blocked another blow. This session had been more intense—more brutal—than in all the years she’d been training with the warrior from the Court of Opal. Daemon had told her how angry he’d been when he’d found out she’d drained her magic, but now it almost seemed as if he was trying to punish her for it.
Huffing out an aggravated breath, Auraelia parried. Using her advancement as a distraction, she pulled at the thread that tied her magic to the earth, splitting it wide beneath the commander’s feet and sending him staggering backward. As Ser Aeron fought to regain his balance, Auraelia knocked his blade from his hand.
“Do you yield?” she asked between heavy breaths, pressing the tip of her sword to the center of his chest.
