I followed a set of narrow steps to one of the lower streets. Noise from the market faded. Only simple conversation and a few voices followed.
There were a few lingering Myrdan guards about, laughingwith one another as though they were waiting for someone. Strange.
I went back the other direction, but stopped at the sound of breathless sighs from inside a small cottage with boarded windows and a roof that leaned to one side. Moans and more feminine sighs followed. One glance over my shoulder to ensure I was alone, and I peeked through a crack in one of the boards over the window.
My breath caught in my chest.
Emi was inside. She wasn’t alone. Her slender fingers were threading through the dark waves of Princess Yrsa’s hair. She claimed Yrsa’s mouth, kissing the princess like she did not know how to let go.
Yrsa dug into Emi’s waist, holding her close, her back to the crooked wall.
I blinked, one hand to my chest. My heart snapped against my ribs, and I feared it might crack in two at any moment.
Prince Thane would be devastated. I did not know how much passion lived between the prince and princess, but I knew enough that Thane genuinely cared for her. He looked forward to their vows fondly.
Anger grew more so toward Emi. She was not only a Stav, but Thane’s friend.
I peeled away from the wall, conflicted. Prince Thane was not a brutal man. I was confident he would not punish either of them should I speak of it, but in another breath I wasn’t convinced it was my place to speak at all.
From one of the towers of the palace, a bell rattled through the market.
The evening gates would be locked soon, and more feastswould be had. I gathered my skirt and hurried back to the main square, desperate to forget what I’d seen.
“Lyra.” Kael shoved through a few men. “By the gods, where were you?” He dropped his voice. “Were you with him?”
I frowned. “No. And if I were, what do you think you would do about it, Kael Darkwin?”
His jaw worked. “Lyra, this is not a game.”
“I know,” I snapped. “Please, just…I know. He is not a game to me.”
“And what is he? You think this will be allowed? You think when Ashwood settles with a wife it will be you? The king has already told Thane he will force Ashwood to take a noble Jorvan woman by the next frosts. Did you know that? I assure you there is no shortage of ambitious fathers who would want their daughter paired to the future king’s most trusted warrior. Where does that leave you?”
Mortifying tears burned in my eyes. I didn’t know why; nothing Kael said was anything I had not considered myself. The blame fell to what I witnessed with Yrsa and Emi, with the truth that I had allowed myself to feel something more than was wise for the Sentry.
Kael’s features softened. He took hold of my hand, holding it between his palms. “Lyra, I’m sorry. That was harsh.”
I shook my head. “No. It was true. I’m fine, Kael.”
“He”—Kael cleared his throat—“Ashwood didn’t force you to do anything, right?”
“No. Gods, no. We didn’t even…” I hurriedly waved details away. “He knows as well as I we should not cross such lines.”
Kael didn’t look appeased, but he nodded. “Remember, I am loyal to Jorvandal, but I am more loyal to you. Accomplices?”
I smiled and hooked a hand through his arm. “Always.”
It wasn’t my place.
I kept repeating the words the entire time I dressed for the feast.
Despite the warnings from Kael, despite knowing within the full seasons I would likely lose Roark to an arranged match, I craved his steadiness now. He was stoic, but there was a sense of calm that soothed my nerves when the Sentry was near.
Likely, he was with the prince.
I remained with his cousin.
Emi had chattered on as she dressed. I offered distant, simple responses, bitterness at her deceit growing the longer we were near each other.
