I swallowed against the blood-hot memories of snapping bones and screaming faces, crooked necks and viscera on marble. I tried not to think too often about how many people Sunder had hurt or killed. But now, with murder in his eyes and vengeance on his breath, I wondered where his lines were drawn.
“Tell me, d’Ars,” Sunder whispered, so softly I barely caught the words. “First, you seduced and illegally wed my sister for a fortune she hadn’t even inherited yet. Now you propose marriage to my—myparamour, in a half-hearted grab for a throne that will never belong to you. What is it about the women I love that so appeals to your grasping, hoarding aspirations?”
Love.The word was a jewel, unpolished and unfaceted yet gleaming with its own light. I reached for it, but it was cold to the touch, wrenched from a place of pain instead of given in peace. I watched it fade, even as I longed to clutch it to my chest.
“Perhaps it’s a testament to you, de Vere—your ability to surround yourself with scintillating, ambitious women.” Gavin smiled, suddenly—his white teeth stained with blood where he’d bit his tongue. “Wait—did you just call her yourparamour? You know that to love a woman you have to be able to touch her, right? Perhaps even kiss her. Otherwise it’s just unrequited lust. Or maybe idolatry.”
“Shut up.”
“Or were you imaginingyou’dget to marry her?” Gavin’s smile was honed sharp on malice. “You, Sunder? You raised an unknown orphan from the dusk, named her Sun Heir without any proof, and put her on the path to a throne before anyone could so much as protest. You marry this future empress, and voilà! The man goes from provincial marquis to emperor while barely lifting a finger.”
“Gavin!” I pushed the words around the apprehension gluing my teeth together. “That’s not—”
“And we’ve all heard—whether by torture or seduction—just how persuasive Lord Sunder can be.”
He laughed, bright and sharp. My own cheeks tightened as my lips curled upward, and I felt humor building in my belly. I giggled too—a strained bubble of hilarity bursting unexpected in my throat.
And I suddenly knew what Gavin’s legacy was.
I swallowed the laugh almost instantly, but it was too late—Sunder had heard it. He tensed, and his timbre pulsed bright red, with a force that made my ears pop. He gritted his teeth around a scream, nearly doubling over as a wave of pain rippled along his torso. His grip on Gavin loosened. The other boy thrust forward with a cry, tackling Sunder and toppling them both onto the ground.
For a tortuous minute, all I saw was flailing limbs and swinging fists. A kick. Two swift punches to someone’s stomach. Glittering eyes above a bloody smile. Sunder rolled on top of Gavin, his legs clamped around the other boy’s chest, his hair a pale gyre above. Gloved fingers circled Gavin’s neck. Gavin coughed, then gagged. Lines of ambric edged in black crawled along Gavin’s throat, pulsing from Sunder’s fingertips. Gavin’s eyes rolled back into his head.
“Stop!” I screamed, flinging myself between them. My hand found Sunder’s shoulder. He reached out, reflexively. His open palm struck the center of my chest, beside my heart. Agony shrieked through me, a flaming blade in the dusk. I jerked away from his touch, lurching back and losing my balance. I fell to the floor, my knee cracking into the tile.
When I looked up, Sunder’s face had shattered, his eyes a chasm into a bleak, unending despair.
“Mirage,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
He threw himself away from Gavin and reached for me, hands trembling. Behind him, Gavin rolled to his feet, found purchase on Sunder’s collar, cranked his head back, and swiftly punched him in the face.Once. Twice.Gavin reeled back his elbow for a third strike, but he staggered, dizzy. I found my footing and shoved in between them, planting my hands on Gavin’s chest and pushing him back. He stumbled and lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. Relief sprinted across his face.
“Enough!” I commanded. I glared between them. Both boys were breathing hard. Gavin rubbed at his throat and coughed. Sunder levered himself slowly off the floor, a gash below his eye oozing blood against what would soon be a livid bruise. “That’s enough from both of you.”
“Mirage—” Sunder’s voice held a note of pleading.
“No.” I thrust the word between my teeth and met his eyes. The unspoken horror of what had just happened passed between us like a curse—although it had been an accident, he’d used the full brunt of his legacy against me. He’dhurtme. Part of me had already forgiven him, and yet—“I can’t look at you right now. Just go.”
Sunder’s mouth flattened. He yanked his ripped collar away from his throat, dragged a hand through sweat-dark hair, and stalked out of the room. The door shut behind him with a sound like the end of the world. Heat filled my throat. I swallowed, and forced myself to face Gavin. He looked down at me, triumph shining in his eyes.
“That was nothing to be proud of,” I snarled. His face fell. I looked him over—the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, the finger-shaped bruises blooming on his neck. “Are you all right?”
“I will be.” He shrugged, then winced. “Not the worst beating I’ve had. And probably not the last.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “You deserved it.”
“Is the idea of becoming my wife to save an empire really so disgusting?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh. Oleander.” Gavin scrubbed a hand over his face, sat back against the windowsill, and sighed. I smothered a fizz of sympathy, arming myself with the new intuition shoving hard against the back of my mind. How had it taken me so long to realize—?
“Look, I’m not proud of it. But we were both young. Too young to get married—I know that now. But all’s well that ends well, right? She had the marriage annulled when I returned to Aifir—turns out it wasn’t strictly legal—and we haven’t spoken since. Besides, Sunder already took his shot back then. Why stir things up now?”
“Because even if it happened four tides ago, you still seduced his twin sister and tried to steal their family fortune?”
Gavin straightened. “Yes, I was broke. But so were other courtiers. And we did what poor nobles have always done—live off the fat of the empress and the largesse of our wealthier friends. My only crime with Oleander was asking her to elope without the blessing of her family or friends. If she thought there was something else going on …” He trailed off, clicking his tongue against his teeth.
I wanted to believe him—even spattered in his own blood and exhausted, he was so handsome and earnest. Repentant, as if there could possibly be anything wrong with trying to run away with your first love.
