As a hazy sunset throws my room beneath a dusky glow, I discard my mental preparations in favor of physical ones. We’ll be leaving by nightfall to arrive in Grenneith by tomorrow morning.
My hands tremble as I pack my bag, wishing I had more to bring, if only to keep my hands busy. Yet, all I’ll need is a nightdress, undergarments, and extra shoes. I don’t bother trying to dress in human clothing this time, considering not even my corset was salvageable after my arrival at Selene Palace. However, Nyxia did loan me some cream silk trousers and a blue linen blouse, which I’m wearing now beneath my velvet cloak.
A knock sounds on my door, almost too quiet to hear, as if the visitor is unsure of their intent. When I open the door, I’m speechless to find Aspen on the other side. My breath catches in my throat as our eyes lock. Silence envelops us, leaving nothing but a tense hum of energy I can sense down to my bones. The energy feels wrong, the air too thick. Does he feel it too?
He clears his throat, the sound so loud it startles me. “Can I come in for a moment?” His tone is cold, formal, catching me off guard.
I blink a few times, realizing we’re still standing under my threshold. “Of course,” I say, hating how my formality matches his.
He enters, striding to the center of my room, back facing me. He wears russet trousers, a white shirt, and a bronze waistcoat—wrinkled again. It’s an effort not to reach for him, to place a hand in the middle of his back and soothe whatever has him so rattled. But I can’t touch him, not when everything about this is wrong—his posture, his formality, the way he’s been avoiding me. I get that we’ve yet to reconcile our grievances toward each other, but the way he’s acting has my stomach in knots.
This can’t be just about my stolen kiss with Franco. Surely anger would suffice his feelings over the matter. Rage, I can handle. Rage, I can counter with my own. But this distance, this strain…I know neither how to confront it nor how it’s come to lie between us. There must be something else I’ve done to deserve his coldness.
I run through our last few interactions and consider everything that’s happened between leaving Bircharbor and now. So much has changed but—
Then it dawns on me. His mother died and it was my fault. Does he know? Did Foxglove or Lorelei tell him what I admitted to? Does he realize I could have prevented her death if I’d mentioned her plea before I left? The blood leaves my face, sweat beading over my forehead.
Finally, he speaks, attention fixated on the empty wall in front of him. “I want to come with you to the Spire.”
My mouth feels dry as I search for words. The way he refuses to look my way tells me the offer to accompany me pains him greatly. But why? “All right,” I say, my voice tenuous.
He remains facing away from me, each heartbeat tugging on the air between us. When he speaks again, it’s drowned out by my own words. “I’m sorry about your mother.”
He whirls toward me. “What?”
I swallow hard. “I said, I’m sorry about your mother. I heard about her...murder.” My unspoken question echoes in my head.Does he know the truth? Does he know it’s my fault?
He nods but says nothing in reply.
Another stretch of silence. Aspen opens and closes his fists, a nervous gesture I’ve never seen him do, one that makes the air in the room feel suffocating. I can’t help but feel that this marks the end. That nothing will ever feel right between us again.
I wish he’d yell. I wishI’dyell. I wish anything were happening but this painful quiet.
Tears spring to my eyes as the room begins to spin. There’s only one thing left to say. “It’s my fault.”
His expression softens. “Excuse me?”
“Her death. It’s my fault.”
“I don’t understand. You were here when she was murdered. Nyxia vouched for you. I know Cobalt had your dagger, he—”
I shake my head. “I could have prevented it.” I inhale a trembling breath, preparing my confession. “She spoke with me the day I left Bircharbor, telling me she feared Cobalt. Feared for her safety. She begged me to speak to you on her behalf, to form an alliance. She wanted your protection. And I...I never said a word.”
He closes the distance between us, stopping a few feet away. His hand lifts toward my face, and my heart races in anticipation of the touch. A flicker of hope rises inside, as if everything will be set to rights with this one caress. But it doesn’t come. Like he did in the hall, he pulls his hand away before he can touch me, curling his fingers into fists as he purses his lips. “It isn’t your fault.” His words come out with a tremor, as if filtered through suppressed rage.
My throat feels tight, seeing his repulsion in the set of his jaw, in the fists balled at his sides. I call upon my fire to steady me as I fix him with a glare. “Obviously you don’t believe your own words,” I say through my teeth.
“How can you say that? You had nothing to do with her death. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. She came to me with the same request, the same fears. I didn’t trust her.” A flash of pain crosses his face. “But you, Evie. You’re innocent of blame.”
My mind reels to comprehend him. His words sound so genuine, but his body betrays the truth. If he isn’t upset about that, then why does he find it so hard to be in the same room with me? Why does he look like he’d rather be anywhere but at my side? I’m about to give voice to the questions when footsteps sound outside my room. My eyes flash to the open door where Foxglove emerges from the hall.
Aspen takes a step away from me, and the hum of that unsettling energy shatters. “What is it?” he asks, voice gruff.
Foxglove’s expression flashes with surprise, as if he hadn’t expected to find Aspen here. “Queen Nyxia has prepared her carriage for our journey. It’s time.”
My hands tremble at his words. “I should finish readying my things.”
“I’ll meet you at the carriage,” Aspen mutters without looking at me. With that, he leaves my room.
