“If you’re thinking of a way to say what you’ve come to say without revealing your true intentions, reconsider,” I said, understanding her better than I should.
“You are my enemy. Would it not be wise to carefully consider my words, Terran?”
I thought back to my father’s behavior these past days. Lyra’s arrival was no coincidence. Something was afoot and had been since Princess Mevlida arrived. Which meant it could be just one thing…
“It’s tied to the Gate? To reopening it. Aye?”
She was clever, but the briefest blink of her eyes told me I was right. There was no victory in my guess. King Galfrid had been attempting to reopen it since the day my father closed the portal to the human realm. His daughter’s arrival brought more questions than answers, for our spies in Aetheria confirmed it had not reopened for anyone but, apparently, the princess.
“Lyra—”
“I will tell you, on the morrow.”
That was not what I’d expected.
“Why not now?” She was up to something. Aetherian’s always were, but I could not guess this one’s game.
“I am weary from travel and need to gather my thoughts first.”
I downed my ale, watching her as intently as she did me.
“We will break our fast here, and you’ll tell me then. Before I take you to my father.”
She revealed nothing.
“Am I confined to these quarters?”
What are you up to, Lady Lyra?
“You are a guest, not a prisoner. Go where you may. But be aware… my father and his men are not as gracious a host as I.”
Her elegant brows raised, but she said nothing.
Leaning forward, I made myself more clear. “You are free to go about as you please, but remain in the Watcher’s Keep if you value your immortality. ’Tis not a threat, Lyra. Whatever reason brought you here agitates the court in ways I’ve not seen in many years.”
I had her full attention.
And liked it.
Damn her, but something about this particular Aetherian stirred me like none other.
“Your father would start a war if he harmed an envoy.”
Standing, I told Lyra what she already knew. “The war has already begun. I will be back at sunrise. Good eve, Lyra.”
I waited until she rose, as was custom, to take my leave.
“Good eve, Terran.”
Nodding, I left her chamber. There would be little sleep for me this evening. Preparations needed to be made.
War wasn’t coming. It had arrived. In the form of a beautiful, but deadly, adversary.
6
LYRA
I moved through the courtyard, unable to rid myself of an uneasiness that had settled over me during our conversation. I’d long ago dismissed our interaction at the Festival of Tides as one I imagined. If it seemed, with one step toward him, Terran would have ravaged me… surely it had been more in my own mind, the dancers having influenced my thinking.
