She had already proven she was desperate for an alliance. If there was a way to ensure Trahir’s support without directly defying the gods, perhaps she would.
Aidon’s steps were slow as he walked around her, his graspgentle as he lifted her chin. But his dark brown eyes were probing as he took her in, concern written in his gaze. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘Too much,’ she admitted quietly. Because to be traded like that … like some object …
The mere thought made her feel hollow.
She truly had become no better than a weapon to be wielded by her queen. And while Aya had always been proud to serve her, to uphold her duty, she was again faced with the gnawing feeling that perhaps her devotion had clouded each aspect of her judgement.
Aidon brushed a loose strand of hair off her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. ‘I can’t believe my uncle wouldn’t mention this to me,’ he muttered, his face still serious. ‘I thought … I thought inthis, I’d have a choice.’ The remark was soft and distant, as if he weren’t truly speaking to her at all. She opened her mouth to reassure him, but the words lodged in her throat as her mind raced.
Aidon blinked, his jaw set as he focused on her. ‘That’s not to say that I don’t … that I wouldn’t …’ His hands, warm and calloused, found her cheeks. He was too close – far too close for her to think rationally, to not get caught up in the intensity of his gaze, still slightly frantic with thought, or in his lips that were a mere breath from hers.
‘Maybe … we …’ He trailed off, his eyes darting between her eyes and her lips. There was a question there – a question she didn’t have the answer to either.
‘Fuck it,’ he whispered. He closed that distance, his mouth warm as it pressed against her own. Aya’s hands slid to the collar of his linen shirt, unsure of whether to pull him closer or push him away. Aidon seemed equally conflicted as his hand slid to the back of her head, his fingers tightening in her hair.
A throat cleared behind them, and Aya stumbled back, putting a healthy distance between her and the prince.
‘I hate to ruin the moment,’ Will drawled. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his face unreadable as he took in the two of them. ‘But we have a problem.’
Aidon glared at Will as if the only problem he saw was standing just before him. But Will was unfazed, his voice grave as he said, ‘Viviane is missing.’
53
Will could feel Aya’s eyes on him as they made their way through the empty streets of Rinnia, the merry sounds of the festival a distant hum in the otherwise sleepy silence that stretched through the city.
He kept his gaze sweeping the streets, even as the air between them grew taut, their footsteps sharp echoes on the cobblestones as they followed Aidon down a narrow side road.
Josie had found Will on the beach, her dress disheveled, eyes wide in terror as she babbled incoherently. He had picked out the wordsVivianeandapartmentandgone, and had been able to piece the rest together easily enough.
Dominic ordered Josie back to the palace with her guards, and the princess hadn’t even seemed to hear him. She just blinked as they led her away, as though the shock had overwhelmed her completely. Will doubted she would dare sit still once it had worn off. The princess was a fighter – she would rather die than sit idly by while someone she loved was in danger.
‘Find them,’ had been Dominic’s only order to his nephew.
The City Guard had been dispatched, and Aya, Will, and Aidon had chosen the road near Vi’s ransacked apartment to start their search. They scoured the streets until they reached the outskirts of the residential area.
Suddenly Aya flung out a hand, catching Will’s chest before he took another step. ‘Look,’ she murmured. He followed her gaze to the blood that pooled on the stones of an alleyway.
Will closed his eyes for a heartbeat.
She couldn’t be dead. For Josie’s sake, she couldn’t be dead.
Aidon frowned at the blood, then at the alley stretching into the dark.
Aya stepped around him, her brow furrowed in concentration. She scanned the wall, laying a hand against the rough brick. ‘It’s on the wall.’
Will stepped up behind, leaning over her shoulder to follow her gaze. Indeed, those were splashes of blood, nearly invisible against the deep red of the brick.
‘Do you think the Bellare are retaliating after the attack the other week?’ she asked as she tilted her head to catch his gaze.
‘I don’t know.’ He stepped back out of her mint and evergreen scent, steeling himself against the hurt he saw flash across her face.
He wasn’t trying to be cruel – he was trying to calm the ringing in his ears whenever he looked at Aidon, and being near her didn’t help.
He hadn’t been surprised to see their embrace. He’d practically shoved them together, after all. But hehadbeen surprised at how it hollowed out something inside of him; the way he felt the ground slipping beneath his feet, as if he had lost some footing he hadn’t even known he’d found.
Aidon made his way further into the alley, his sword already drawn. Aya followed, her footsteps nearly silent as she tracked the blood.
