“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Marus says with a bow. “Will you oversee our nuptials? Her stepmother, I’m sure, would prefer haste.”
She stares down her nose at him. “Who do you think I am? Take your bride and get out of my palace. Have your wedding at Saint Lazaro’s Cathedral where you belong.”
“Your Majesty.” There’s a note of pleading in his tone now. “Once we’re married, we will need to return to claim her inheritance anyway. Wouldn’t it be easier—”
“Make an appointment with my ambassador. I am not your secretary.” With that, Nyxia storms out, leaving me alone with Imogen and Marus.
My breaths grow ragged, defeat tugging my bones. Where is Franco? What did he promise Marus? How could he let this happen after everything he said? After everything we shared…
Marus unties his cravat and pulls it taught between his fists. “Will you come quietly?”
I lift my chin. “No.”
He lunges for me.
* * *
FRANCO
I wake up with a start, at a loss for where I am. I find myself prone on a settee in the middle of a large parlor. Pulling myself to sit, I look around, finding no one in the room but me. My limbs feel weak, my mind slow and heavy.
What in the hell happened?
Echoes of pain linger at the edges of my senses, but with every breath, I can feel myself regaining my strength. Then it comes to back me.
Ember’s confession.
The pain of my broken promise.
My confrontation with Marus.
Then Nyxia taking him to her…
I rise to my feet, ignoring the tilt of my vision as I stride to the other side of the room and haul open the door. There I pause, bracing myself on the door frame. I breathe deep, seeking sources of nearby emotion. A few subtle strains of mundane energy reach me. It’s nothing as potent as fear, but it’s enough for me to gather my bearings and refuel even more of my lost strength. Once I feel somewhat sated, I take off down the halls, heading straight for Ember’s room.
I gather more and more emotions from behind each door I pass, the nourishment making my feet grow lighter with every step. Finally, I arrive at her door and fling it open…
Her room is empty.
I make my way inside, taking in everything, seeking any clue about where she is. The bed is in the same state as I left it. The floor is strewn with clothing I hadn’t noticed last night, but that’s not what snags my attention. Near the dressing table, I find a discarded knife and the shards of a broken glass heel. Not far from there, I find the remnants of the shoe, glass heel gone. A lump burns the back of my throat as I lift it gingerly in my hands.
This can’t be good.
I need to find her. But where is she?
I breathe in, sensing strains of leftover emotion, but the trail is faint. Old. How long was I out? Was it hours? Minutes? I breathe in again, seeking her energetic signature.
But it’s gone.
Nowhere close.
A rush of blue light swirls around me, and I lift my eyes to find three frantic wisps darting above my head.
“The girl of air,” one says, her tiny voice filled with a quaver. “They came for her, Your Highness.”
“Brother Marus and my sister?” I ask.
“Yes, and the vile human,” says another.
