His response has my pulse kicking up. I sit upright and face him again. “Really?”
He gives me a curt nod before returning to his paper.
I tilt my head, realizing he’s without his spectacles for once. “How can you read at night without your lenses?”
“My vision is better in the dark.”
There goes my theory that he couldn’t have seen me blushing. “That’s unusual, isn’t it? Especially for a human.”
“Especially so.”
“Then what makes you so special?”
“You shouldn’t consider me special at all. That’s hardly appropriate for a woman engaged.” There’s a taunting lilt to his voice that makes my cheeks flare with heat again. “Any other inquiries about my private life?”
He’s clearly evading my question by distracting me with my own embarrassment. Well, it’s working, that clever bastard. Which is fine. I don’t need to get to know him anyway.
Dream-Thorne’s warning echoes in my mind.Don’t get close to him.
Forcibly wrenching my attention from Thorne, I scoot to the edge of my seat and study the view outside the window. A crescent moon illuminates the trees that surround the road, casting them in the darkest hues of blue and purple. Glittering stars decorate the night sky, but they look different than they do in the Star Court. Even though the convent is only a few hours from the border between Lunar and Star, the differences are noticeable. All eleven courts in Faerwyvae are like that, each hosting a different climate, terrain, season, or elemental affinity. In the Star Court, the stars are always more visible than the moon at night, showcasing an endless sea of sparkling shards in every hue. But here, it’s clear the moon is sovereign, and the stars bask in her glow, not the other way around. Even the treetops seem to reach for that glowing crescent, eager to feel more of her silver light.
It dawns on me that this is my first time in a different court. No, I suppose that isn’t true. I was born in Lunar. I just didn’t know it. But this is certainly my first time leaving the Star Court since I entered the convent. Even though the city of Lumenas was so bright and boisterous that my time there made me feel like I was in a different land, this is truly my first journey away. And after I’ve met my family, I’ll be joining my fiancé in another new location, the Earthen Court.
My elation drains at the thought. While my yearning for my family drives me onward and fuels my excitement, I still haven’t reconciled the prospect of marrying a stranger. Nor has my fury over it waned. There’s still much I don’t know about the situation. When are we expected to marry? What kind of man is he? Will we have any kind of courtship? Will I get to debut in society and enjoy all the things I’ve wanted to experience? Is he a good dancer? How long do I get to visit with my family before Thorne takes me to meet Monty Phillips?
My heart races with all these questions, but it fully stutters when my eyes fall on a massive structure that has just emerged from the line of trees. As the coach proceeds, the structure becomes clearer. It’s an elegant palace that shines violet in the moonlight, climbing high with towering turrets and walls topped with gilded crenellations.
“Nocturnus Palace,” Thorne says, drawing my attention to him. He’s put his broadsheets away and stares out the same window. There’s something tense in the line of his jaw, though perhaps that’s just the moody bastard’s face. “You’re home.”
“Home,” I echo and turn my gaze back to the palace. Our coach comes to a stop. I angle my head to find we’ve reached a towering gate of silver filigree. After a lengthy pause, the gate opens, and the coach proceeds. The scenery shifts from the dark forest road to an immaculate palace lawn dotted with bioluminescent mushrooms, slender birch trees dressed in tiny glowing orbs of light, marble statues and fountains, and perfectly manicured hedges and topiaries.
Finally, the coach enters a courtyard that circles a massive fountain and stops at the base of a wide staircase that leads to a pair of double doors.
“We are to wait here while the coachman delivers all necessary paperwork to your parents. Then someone will escort us from the coach.”
My heart beats faster. The coach jostles, and I catch sight of a figure darting from the coach and up the stairs. The coachman disappears behind the palace doors, leaving me nothing to study but the walls of the palace that take up the entirety of my view. Up close, I can see that they’re constructed of amethyst. I shift anxiously in my seat, feeling completely underdressed before such elegance. Not that I had much of a choice. Everything I own is plain and gray.
That reminds me of the jacket I found when I awoke, which lies forgotten in my lap. I angle myself toward Thorne and find him studying me with that intense stare that so deeply contrasts his usual disinterest. “Thank you,” I mutter, handing him the jacket.
He takes it from me and begins to roll down the sleeves of his shirt. I drop my eyes from his face to his forearms. As one cuff comes fully loose, I catch sight of black ink marking his inner forearm near its elbow crease.
My breath hitches. I’ve seen tattoos marking his flesh before, inthat one dream. They trailed from his upper forearm and around his bicep, then across his back, a pattern reminiscent of a coiled snake, painting the hard planes of his body. His very naked and very…aroused body. My core tightens at the memory, for I can’t help recalling exactly what we did after I saw him like that. The lust that sparked. The heat that drummed between my legs—
I bite the inside of my cheek to force the memory away. As it recedes, a question takes its place, one that douses my momentary fire in tepid water. I’ve always thought I imagined dream-Thorne with those markings for my own visual pleasure during that dream, but…they were real? My gaze snaps back to his, and I find his eyes have gone wide.
He blinks and his surprise is gone, as if it was never there to begin with. Perhaps I’d only been projecting my own. He angles the arm inward and draws both cuffs down to his wrists. “What?” he asks with a haughty scoff. “Am I being too quiet again?”
“No,” I rush to say and force my attention back out the window. I’m too flustered to conjure a reply. What could I even say?Oh, you have tattoos? I dreamed of you naked once and saw you had them then. What a fun coincidence! Tell me more!
Thankfully, I’m saved by the opening of the palace doors.
A female figure emerges, backlit by the golden glow coming from within the palace. She pauses, shoulders heaving, then rushes down the steps. A slender figure races after her, a servant perhaps, and tries to assist her descent. She shakes him off, her motions giddy, and increases her pace. The nearer she draws to the base of the stairs, the clearer her features become. Moonlight glints off blonde hair arranged in pinned-up curls, a wide smile, and tears that stream down her chubby cheeks.
I don’t need to guess. I don’t need to wonder.
That’s my mother.
And that joy on her face is everything I’ve ever hoped to see.
