“You gotta give it to him… He knows how to motivate a crowd,”Saipha says softly.
“It’s all normal chapel fodder.” I don’t risk saying anything more against the vicar in such a public setting—especially next to Lucan, whose eyes I can feel on me.
Saipha shrugs and stands, stretching. “This has made me want to train.”
I’d like nothing less than to make use of the training rooms right now. My whole body still aches, my back is a mess. But instead, I say, “Sure.”
“Isola, can I have a moment?” Lucan asks. When Saipha lingers, he adds, “Alone.”
“I’ll meet you there?” I say to her.
Saipha tosses me a wide grin. “See you there. Or not. If you get hung up, you know.”
I groan at her obvious attempt to get me to manipulate Lucan into our soldier and repeat, “I’ll meet you theresoon.”
But she’s already turned and gone before I finish speaking. I sigh. She might be my best friend, but sometimes I want to murder her.
I stare at Lucan, but he doesn’t move to stand. I roll my eyes at him and straddle the bench to face him. Now, it’s just the two of us and the heavy silence. Very alone in this massive room that somehow suddenly feels too small.
I try to ignore the pit of dread growing in my stomach as he holds my gaze. He has something he wants to say, and somehow, I’m more terrified of whatever it is than I am of a dragon.
22
Lucan shifts on the bench to face me and reaches out, palm up. “Give me your hand.”
I lean back slightly, instinctively putting more distance between us the moment he asks me to get closer. “Why?”
“You’ll see.”
Yeah, that’s not convincing me at all. “Tell me what you want first.”
He holds my gaze, hand still extended toward me, and I’m suddenly very aware of how close we are right now. I’ve never noticed the subtle, darker greenish tint around his pupils or how inky his eyelashes are. I stiffen.Why am I noticing his eyelashes?
“What do you really think I’m going to do to you?” He keeps his voice low, so it doesn’t echo in the cavernous space, but it also emphasizes the teasing note to it.
The truth is, I’ve no idea what I think he’ll do—or why I’m hesitating. Perhaps it’s because he asked. All the other times we’ve touched, there’s been an unavoidable circumstance—training at the Grand Chapel, or the other night when I was injured. But doing it here, now, feels different. Dangerous, even. And I can’t place why. His presence puts me on edge, every nerve vibrating with energy, despite my exhaustion.
“Well?”
“This isn’t some trick you’re going to turn against me?” The question sounds far more vulnerable than I’d like.
“No, I swear it.”
I stare at his open palm for a moment longer, then I place my hand in his. Lucan’s fingers slowly curl around mine, warm and firm, as if he’s savoring the movement. With his other hand, hepresses his fingers to his chest. At first, I think he’s mocking the motion I make when I rub my scar, and I nearly rip my hand away. But then, a flood of Etherlight rises from around his hand.
The air between us hums.
Heglows.
Not from the light of the chandelier above but from raw energy that collects around him. I gasp as the faint haze unspools like a ribbon. It surrounds him, sparks shimmering. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve beheld nothing more beautiful, and for a heartbeat, I forget to breathe.
I’ve been able to sense Etherlight, to see what it creates when drawn, but the only truly visibleEtherlightknown to humanity is the Font itself—it’s so much power condensed that it illuminates the Undercrust. But it’s never visible beyond how it manifests when drawn through an artificer sigil, like fire, lightning, ice, or noxious gas. This is something else entirely. It’s as if I am catching a glimpse of the currents of life and magic swirling around him. Like I’m witnessing strands of the Font itself.
The orange-gold Etherlight flows like the hot spring water that’s piped up from deep in the Undercrust. It seeps into my skin, easing tension from my muscles, healing bruises that I didn’t even realize were there. I can’t see my back, but I can feel the wounds smooth over. Then the aches vanish entirely as I’m healed.
The entire time, I can’t tear my eyes from his. He’s…stunning. The Etherlight highlights the strong edge of his jaw and casts shifting shadows over his cheeks. Lucan is intensely focused on me, but the expression is more tender than I’ve ever seen from him. The gold in his hazel eyes seems to glow. As the magic relaxes, his focus shifts from my face to our joined hands.
For a breath, neither of us speaks. The Etherlight dissipates into the air like stardust, fading entirely from view like emberson a breeze. I can even faintly smell sulfur.
