“They communicate with...” He taps the side of his head, and an understanding dawns upon me. Is there no end to the strange practices of these lands?
After what seems like an eternity, Ilyana shrugs in a way that says she thinks it’s Llyr’s decision to make and takes a step back.
“I promise,” he says as he turns back toward me but looks anywhere but at me.
He can’t be serious. I can’t believe he tried to trick me again! If I didn’t know better, I might have believed him.
“Why don’t you look her in the eyes while you make that promise?” Vilder growls, and the way Llyr scowls in Vilder and Seniia’s direction makes me fear for their first year. All because of me.
Llyr’s gaze locks with mine. “You are a free guest of the Arc,” he says. “You can come and go as you like, and no C’elen, including me, will place a brace on you without your consent.” He then adds, “As long as you, in return, spend every night here at the Arc. This I promise.”
A jolt passes through my body as his magic wraps itself around me in a binding promise.
It worked! Never mind that I’m not allowed to spend a night elsewhere. I’ll be more than happy to sleep here if it allows me to roamfree every day. I can’t hold back a smile, my heart singing with my newfound freedom.
“All right, seekers. With that settled, you can come with me,” Ilyana says, her voice ringing through the hall. “I am sure C’elen Llyr and Laïna have lots to talk about.” She begins to walk toward one of the seven corridors leading out from the entrance hall, not bothering to see if Seniia and Vilder follow.
“We’ll find you later,” Seniia whispers, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. She grabs one of her bags, leaving the rest for Vilder yet again.
A laugh escapes my lips when he looks at me and then rolls his eyes at her behind her back, but there’s an amused smile playing around his lips. “Good luck,” he mouths, then hurries after her.
I turn my attention back toward Llyr, who has beckoned one of the Arc’s many servants. I can’t help but stare at their translucent skin—a stark contrast to the blaze of their short, fiery red hair. The servant bows at their waist. “Master C’elen.”
“Vy, this is Laïna.” Llyr gestures toward me, and Vy’s glacial blue gaze sweeps over me, before they offer a polite nod. “She is a guest at the Arc and will need a room in the guest wing. I want you to be her personal servant and to treat her requests as you would mine, with some exceptions. If she is gone for more than one night, I want to know immediately. Can you promise me this?”
I can tell from the way he holds the servant’s gaze that he is creating another soulbinding. The thought of someone keeping track of me makes my skin crawl, but I stay put.You can live with this, Laïna.
Vy nods, then, holding Llyr’s gaze, they add, “I promise,” and once again, I can sense the magic veil that envelops the two of them. It makes my skin tingle in the same way my dagger does when I touch it.
“She will need a new wardrobe,” Llyr adds. He starts ticking off items on his fingers. “Several sparring outfits so she can train with the Accepted.” He glances toward me. “I need you to stay alive,” he says matter-of-factly before turning his attention back to Vy. “She will alsoneed everyday clothes”—his gaze swipes over me—“and the Riverii style she is wearing suits her fine. Unless you prefer something else?”
I shake my head, not knowing what else to ask for. Having seen some of Seniia’s outfits, I know the Riverii style can be quite revealing, but I’m sure Llyr won’t give me any of that sort.
“Don’t forget to add a formal gown for the annual bonding ball at the fire moon...” His eyes narrow in thought for a second. “And add dance lessons to her daily schedule.”
My head snaps in his direction.Ball?I don’t have the faintest idea what to do at a Rean ball. What etiquette will it require that I don’t know? I silently seethe inside. All the mistakes I’ve made so far will probably pale compared to what will be required of me at a ball. And dancing... Except for the night of the festival in Bowen, which I must admit I had too much wine to remember much of, I’ve never seen anyone dance. I don’t even know if Icandance. Music and dancing are as foreign to me as the Reans.
“Consider it done, Master C’elen.” Vy bows at their waist again.
“If you ever need Vy,” Llyr informs me with a gesture toward the servant, “there is a bell in your room for you to call upon them.” His gaze shifts away from me, settling on something in the distance. “Now Vy will show you to the guest wing. I have matters to attend to.”
Vy performs another deep bow at the mentioning of their name, and without another word, Llyr spins on his heels and sweeps across the heartstone floor, vanishing through one of the glass doors leading to the gardens.
chapter sixteen
I SCURRY THROUGH THE PRISTINE white gallery of the Arc, the silence broken only by the soft echo of my own footsteps. Cool air carrying the scent of honeysuckle and damp earth seeps in through the open archways lining the overhanging loggia. I nod to the Accepted as they hurry past me down the hall on their way to one of their morning chores, their slipper-clad feet soundless. It’s still dark when I step out onto the large open balcony, the only sound that of the running water from the five streams. Tilting my head back, I stare at the sky. Noticing the moons, I smile. After three days of dark night skies, I admit it’s good to see them again, if only as five sliver crescents. I’ve gotten used to their comforting light, and their absence left me feeling unusually empty.
After inhaling deeply, I let out a sigh. Such profound tranquility. My stories have never painted a picture as vivid as this, so breathtaking, so utterly beyond compare to Bronich. Then why do I still feel as if something is missing? I’ve always felt hollow. Lost. Longing fora place I don’t even know exists. But I expected it to get better after striking that deal with Llyr, not worse.
I stifle a yawn. It’s early, but it’s not the sole reason I’m tired. For some time after Seniia's healing, the anxiety was manageable. But it has crept back over the weeks, and somehow it’s even heavier than before.
Every evening, as soon as the lights go out, a relentless cacophony of thoughts—a whirlwind of anxieties and half-formed assumptions—keeps me awake. I can be calm and composed all day long, but the moment it's dark, my mind riots. Maybe I should have asked Seniia for another healing, but she’s busy and I don’t want to be a burden.
I grit my teeth. The sheer weight of it leaves me bone-tired. Add the relentless sparring practice Llyr forces me to attend, and it’s a miracle I’m standing at all. All logic says I should fall into bed, exhausted as soon as the sun sets. But no. Besides, if I do fall asleep,heis there.
With every night spent at the Arc, the lifelike dreams about Aster and Nana have become more and more frequent, and more and more vivid. With each passing night, I find myself drawn deeper into their world. My cheeks heat. The way he looks at her, touches her—it affects me in ways I can’t explain. This morning, it took me several minutes to shake off the lingering emotions from the dream, and the sensation was incredibly unsettling. But the worst part is the isolating silence, the feeling of utter solitude as I wake in my cold, empty bed. Alone.
I push both Aster and Nana firmly out of my head. I don’t know why I’m dreaming of her, but I do know she’s dead, and it makes it all the more disturbing that it seems so...real.
