Heat coiled within me. “Perhaps we’ll find a new clearing tonight.”
“Anything can happen on Renaiss.” He smiled, and while it appeared genuine, no wave of happiness passed between our Bind. No glimmer of excitement met his eye. While there may be flowers laced through my hair and starlight shining down on us, we were not the same boy and girl who used to spend stolen hours hidden between high grasses in our clearing.
It was an act, but this was the closest we’d felt in weeks.
“Dance with me?” I held out a hand, hoping to savor whatever moments I could.
I must not have hid my concern very well because his brows pulled together the slightest fraction. “Of course.”
Malakai locked one hand with my own, the other wrapping around my waist. He held me tightly against him, and for one dance, the rest of the world fell away.
We were just us. Just Malakai and Ophelia. Two promised children sent into each other’s path by the stars. There was no war, no curse, and no treaty. No lies, secrets, and pain. My heart had never been broken. He had never been imprisoned.
I hadn’t spent the past weeks crawling across the shards of myself.
There was nothing to repair, nothing to forgive.
Beneath the bright light of the North Star, we were wrapped in the naive comfort of innocence once again. As I looked into Malakai’s eyes, our lips so close we shared breath, the shelter of the past slipped its embrace around us, letting us live in the forgotten peace when we were all that mattered.
But the music faded, the beat livening and bodies quickening, and the spell broke. The pain of each cut filtered back into my consciousness one at a time, each sharper than the last. Standing within Malakai’s arms, memories slipped through the cracks in my heart until I existed in only shards again.
It happened behind his own eyes, too. Our warped life grasped control of the present, reminding us of who we had grown to be and all that had occurred. Though my love for Malakai burned fiercely, not even the light of the North Star was able to keep the shadows at bay.
There wasa lounge in the palace that was hardly used, nestled in one of the tallest towers. When we were fourteen, Malakai, Tol, Cyph, and I had found this hideaway on a visit to Damenal and spent the weeks here curating a collection of sunken velvet couches and thick rugs softer than the sand on the Seawatchers’ beaches, trinkets decorating the shelves. Maroon gauzy curtains rippled in the breeze from the tall windows, moonlight filtering through, casting a red hue on the room.
As teenagers, we snuck bottles of liquor from the Revered’s private supply on annual visits to Damenal. Lucidius had been oblivious.
Now, the hideout functioned as our private lounge away from prying eyes. When we settled in for afters past midnight on Renaiss, it was only my immediate circle, the delegates, and a handful of friends.
Everyone fell into the couches and chairs, the dim mystlight falling over the space like a layer of secrets.
“Our dear delegates,” Tol started, taking a glass full of a swirling blue liquid from Cyph. “Tell us, what do your Renaiss celebrations typically look like?” He sprawled on one of the red velvet love seats, sleeves rolled to the elbow and his top buttons undone. Hylia sat on one side, a boy from Turren on his other. Each ran a hand up his arm, teasing his hair, leaning in closer.
Erista gave Tolek a feline smile. “I’m afraid you don’t want to know what those who commune with the dead do for fun.” She sipped her wine.
“No, we probably don’t,” I laughed, tucking my feet beneath me.
“My people have a way of celebrating.” Vale dragged her round chair closer to the center of the group, eyes bright. “If you Mystiques can handle it.”
“I’m sure we can.” Tol leaned forward.
The Starsearcher pulled a pouch from her side and removed what looked like a very thin piece of parchment. “Searchers use tinctures when conducting sessions.” She flattened the paper. “But there are many different forms of herbal remedies.” From within the pouch, she removed a pinch of crushed flower petals and creased the paper, pouring a bit in the center. “Some are better for recreational purposes than readings.”
The room hung on her every word as she licked the end of the paper and rolled it into a cylinder. “These won’t give you predictions”—she swept a gaze across us—“not even if you were a Starsearcher.” She twisted the ends and held it at the nearest candle until it caught flame. Then, she lifted it to her lips and inhaled. She held the smoke within her throat for a few seconds, blowing out perfect circles. The air filled with the floral scent of whatever petals she had crushed.
“Anyone?” she asked, lifting a brow.
Cyph took it first, his eyes widening then glazing over as he exhaled. The effects were immediate.
He handed it to me. I only took a little, but the smoke was sweet. The haze filtered through my body, lifting any lingering tension. I reclined against the couch, watching the tincture float from hand to hand, limbs sinking into the cushions.
“It’s like the pipes of the Mindshapers,” Esmond observed. “Bodymelders use something similar in an oil form to relax muscles.”
By the time it had been passed around the room, the effects were lifting from me. It had been brief but euphoric. The only person who didn’t try it was Malakai. He sat at my side stoically, shifting his drink between his hands. I squeezed his arm, but he only gave me a half smile.
The room dissolved into clouds of floral smoke and heady liquor, sensual smiles being passed around and low murmurs exchanged. Jezebel and Erista slipped out without anyone’s acknowledgment. Soon Esmond followed, Santorina on his heels.
It was the third time the door opened that the room fell still. Two sets of footsteps cut through the silence.
