It was that last bit Kael had wrong. There would be no need for me to feign interest in the second son of King Galfrid. From the moment we first met, when he’d accompanied his father to a Council meeting, well before the Gate had been opened, something about him had intrigued me. He was Gyorian, no doubt. Even less easy than his brother to coax a smile from. But when it did happen, there was a genuineness about him that most lacked.
I shuddered as a Gyorian guard stopped me.
Thaeron was a fortress disguised as a city. Slate-gray stone buildings huddled beneath the palace, their rooftops shingled in dark metal that reflected the overcast sky. The palace gates were massive, hammered from dark iron and opened for me. Much of it lay beneath the mountain, hidden and impenetrable.
I rode beneath a familiar archway of obsidian stone. Inside, the entry hall was vast, with high ceilings supported by twisted trees, roots clawing the floor, and branches cradling flickering lanterns above.
Draped in the calm mask of diplomacy that I’d learned to exude, even in the face of fear, I stepped into a small antechamber reserved for guests such as myself. Carved from stone, the windowless space wasn’t meant to be welcoming.
Candles buried in every crevice gave the chamber a glow that would never dim. Land magic made use of so many minerals that, even after all these years, I knew only a sampling of their powers. Their flames were sustained not by wax, but by slivers of pyrolume, an amber-veined mineral found deep within Gyoria’s mountains.
I sat under the constant watch of a guard who knew me well but still stared at me as if I would attempt to murder his king at any moment. No offer of a meal. Or lodging. In previous years, before the Gate, I’d have been offered both. Even after, when relations strained between our clans, a cordiality remained among official envoys. But those days were past. I would be forced to talk my way into remaining at the palace long enough to secure the stone.
Though I’d asked for an audience with the king, they would never give it to me so easily. Aetherians were often accused of slyness and deception, but the Gyorian court also wielded both as weapons. I would be strung along for at least a day, or more, before gaining such an audience. Which suited me fine. My first goal was having Dell learn about my presence and make contact. Who could have imagined the Aetherian spy who’d been placed in the Gyorian palace more than a decade ago would become the greatest asset in our history?
“To what do we owe the pleasure of welcoming the daughter of the most prestigious noble family in Aetheria?”
Before he fully appeared, I knew that voice. Prince Terran filled the entrance, his frame even more imposing than his brother’s. Some had difficulty telling them apart, but I did not. Both dark-haired and skinned, both relentlessly handsome, there were differences too. Even when Terran smiled, creases never reached his eyes. He looked at everyone, especially me, with mistrust.
Arms uncovered, his training garb as presumptuous as his demeanor, Terran dared opponents to injure him. No armor, just leather pants and a sleeveless black tunic that clung to the sharp lines of his torso. Bronze cuffs encircled his forearms, more ornamental than practical, and dust from the training yard still clung to his boots. He was every bit the warrior prince, unapologetically unguarded, as if daring the world to strike first.
“I am more than simply a daughter now.” I stood. “Perhaps you’ve not noticed.”
His gaze perused me from head to toe, as I knew it would. Terran taunted with every part of him… his words, his eyes.
You are wrong, Kael. Your brother can never be turned to support Aetheria.
“I have noticed.”
And there it was. The jittering in my stomach, my core, whenever he was near. I’d asked for it, goading him as I had.
I’d dealt with the more difficult immortals in Elydor with more cool than I was able to muster when Terran was near. But this time, the stakes were too high. There was no room for error.
“I requested an audience with your father.”
“He is unavailable.”
As expected.
“I will wait.”
His brows shot up. “For how long will you wait, Lyra?”
He drew out the second syllable of my name, making it sound more like a lover’s caress than an insult. But it wasn’t the way he said, “Lyra” that had me decide on a course of action. Tossing Kael’s warnings aside, and praying to the gods it wasn’t a miscalculation, I narrowed the distance between us, taking two steps toward him.
“I have an eternity, Terran.”
The undertone of my voice was unmistakable. Not surprisingly, he reacted.
“What game do you play?”
I blinked, as if innocent, which I most certainly was not.
“No game, my lord.”
“So deferential, suddenly?”
“I don’t have a deferential bone in my body, Terran. As well you know.”
