Ember’s emerald gaze widens. “That’s who that seraph was? I saw him put his hand on your shoulder but … I figured if you wanted to tell me … you would in time.” I see her dart a quick look at Kasper and realize the group must have been speculating, but her voice stays blessedly low. Her eyes flit between mine, as if she’s reading the vulnerability I’m trying to tamp down. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Yeah, I just … wanted someone to know. In case I didn’t return.” I can barely swallow for the optimism lining my throat like razors. Hope is more dangerous than fear. Her warm hand squeezes mine, warmth spreading through me, chasing the darkness.
“I’ll let the others know after you’re gone. But … I’ll miss you, trouble.” Her grin is dazzling enough for me to smile right back. Her eyes shine, making my own threaten to water. But the moment breaks.
“What’re you two whispering about?” Morgan demands, leaning over from the other table, his smile faltering when neither of us answers him.
“Maybe Rune’s finally confessing her little secret.” Kasper runs a hand through his platinum hair.
Wariness courses through me—what does he know?
His brow raises to prompt me, and I check my mental wards, confirming they’re still in place. When I don’t reply, he scoffs. “About your little bounty posters? You all know she was a Wraith in her home territory, right? Collecting secrets for a living.”
The rest of the table stares at me. An awkward silence descends upon our group, broken only by the reverberatingsounds of others in the Atrium enjoying a meal, studying together, or walking around us. Do immortals have Wraiths in their courts? Do they know what it means? Draven did, but he seems well-versed in mortal affairs. Amaya and Wynter look lost, but Felix, Morgan, and Ember all look at me more critically. Shame unexpectedly slinks through me. My life as a Wraith forced me into choices I wish I’d never had to make. I think of the sweet young man who fled across borders because of the blackmail I gathered, the affair that shattered a family, and the time I was caught spying on a man twice my size, leaving me with so many broken bones I couldn’t move for months. All of it done under the Lord of Westfall’s orders. But I’m the one who has to live with it. And there were people I helped in secret … but Wraiths aren’t known for the ones they spare, like that mother and her children running from an abusive lord. She would not have made it into hiding if not for me, but a few good deeds don’t balance my scales.
Still, my jaw clenches, ready to defend myself.
Felix blurts, “That’s really cool. I worked at a bookshop, reading about adventures, but you were having them.” His grin is a fascinated, intrigued thing. “Do you have a copy of your bounty poster? I’d frame one if I had one.”
“Outlaw Felix?” Ember prompts, half laughing, and relief hits me.
Kasper sneers—this is clearly not the reaction he wanted. His arms fold so tightly they become pretzel-like.
“Oh, we can come up with a cooler name than that,” Amaya says with a grin.
“Fugitive Felix?” I suggest, and he smiles broadly, the light in those brown eyes sparkling as he opens his mouth to reply, but then Morgan loudly clears his throat. His brows crease along with his forehead, and his accusatory stare is hot as a brand.
“When were you going to mention this to any of us?”
I cringe at his tone. It wasn’t exactly anyone’s business.
“Our lives from over the Wall don’t matter, right?” I say quietly. That was the selling point anyway. “I don’t know much about any of you either.”
He frowns, his eyes searching my face as if he sees me in a new light. “We should change that.”
“You’re right, we all should.” I give the table a tight-lipped smile, some part of me wishing I could be held to it. Only Ember sees through my empty offer.
“So, Rune, I hear we’re allowed to bring a date to the ball. Are you going with anyone?” Wynter’s smile is soft as snow and melts me like sun glancing upon it.
I’m so surprised at the question I nearly tip my coffee all over my notes. I manage to get my grip back on it, only a few splashes hitting the pages, which I dab up with a napkin.
I can’t pretend I hadn’t noticed how he sometimes makes excuses to walk me to my Hearth even though it’s out of his way. Or that he always saves me a seat beside him. Morgan’s eyes flicker between me and Wynter, narrowing, before holding to me.
I reply, “No, I’m not.” Not much point when I’ll be leaving. Wynter’s lips quirk as I switch the subject. “So … are we expected to perform anything at the ball? I know we will be meeting people from Court and the different Hearths.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Felix pulls a face.
A druid girl with flawless, deep brown skin and long sweeping black braids walks past our table and Amaya leans out to her, waving. “Cleona, do you know if we need to be able to perform anything at the Equinox?”
Cleona looks around our mismatched group, her enchanting hazel eyes lingering on me a moment before she turns back toAmaya. “I really hope not, I’ve barely managed to draw the Sun once a day let alone in front of an audience.”
A speedy messenger approaches the table, likely a second-year Chariot Arcana judging by his unnatural speed and the double wand pendants pinned onto his high collar. He lays a bouquet of black roses on the table in front of me, each petal limned with crimson. He smiles at my confusion, then races away. Morgan reaches forward and hands me an ebony card tied around their stems with my name on it.
I open the envelope, and my eyes immediately flick to the bottom where it’s signedPrinceling.My blood heating, the expansive room turns hot and cramped as I snap the card closed. I would rather not read this in front of everyone.
Cleona nods to the roses over my shoulder. “You should ask Prince Draven—he would know.”
“I will.” I cringe to suppress my smile. Everyone looks between me and the flowers.
