He could still feel the eyes of the guests boring into him like a thousand tiny insects crawling on his skin as the dirt piled atop, burying him alive. He needed air.
Trapped.
Ruling meant being watched. Scrutinized. He wasn’t a wielder—hewasn’t. But if his abilities were discovered, would he be executed like one? Like the wielders who’d attacked his guards? Shot without a second thought?
At the very least, he’d be banned from the castle. His mother wouldn’t let him stay. The laws wouldn’t allow him to rule—well, alright, that part he was fine with.
But he’d lose Lottie, and that was a consequence worse than death.
How could he keep this secret when everyone was staring at him? The truth felt glaringly obvious.
August’s fingertips tingled, and the air around him shimmered the way it had when—
No.
He set the ring beside his plate and curled his fingers around the edge of the table.
Stop, please stop.
He’d seen the air look like this before. He knew what it meant. Knew what it was.
Even after four years, he still saw the anchored woman clearly, standing over him as he woke in his bed.
Do not be afraid, Mo Aesling. I am here to save you.She was so real, her edges so solid.
To this day, he wasn’t sure why he’d followed, but he did. Out of his bedroom, past Lottie’s door, up the stairs, all the way to the highest tower. He stood in the window, staring down at the castle grounds bathed in silver moonlight, the city beyond perfectly still.
He’d felt it then, as he felt it now—the veil between worlds thickening to a fabric beneath his fingertips.
Could the guests see it? They were watching. They were going to know.
Run.
He cursed and pushed up from the table, the chair scraping loudly.
“Sit down, Augustus,” his mother hissed, glaring up at him.
He shook his head frantically. “Mm-mm. Nope. I can’t.” His voice was louder than he’d intended, drawing the attention of the entire room.
Lottie stood gracefully. “I’ve got it, Mother.”
She led him away with a gentle hand on his back, out into the hall, not stopping until they were standing in the foyer, surrounded by wallpaper the same pattern as his waistcoat.
“Auggie,” she started, but her sentence fell away as she took in his expression. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I can’t be in charge of anything,” he blurted, his voice too high. “It’s too much responsibility. I can’t even take care of myself.” His eyes flicked to the intricately carved doors, desperate for an escape. “I haven’t eaten a vegetable in three months, Lottie. If it weren’t for you nagging me, I probably wouldn’t have bathed in as long. How can they expect me to rule an entire country? No. No way. I can’t.”
Lottie brushed back his hair and pressed her forehead to his. “Hey, look at me.” He did. “You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone. I’m here with you, and I always will be.”
“What if they find out?” he asked.
She pulled back, brow furrowed as she studied him. “Find out what?”
Lottie knew about his ability. She’d always known. But they didn’t talk about it anymore. Not since the attack. Apparently, she wasn’t eager to stop pretending.
Footsteps echoed from down the hall.
“Go,” Lottie said softly, lifting the circlet from his head. It was thin and nearly weightless, but its absence felt like freedom. “Get some air. Take a walk. I’ll cover for you, tell Mother you’re sick. She won’t go anywhere near your room if she thinks you’re contagious.”
