He leaned forward on the rock.
“When it comes, you must hold to something real—a key, a word, a face. Remind yourself where you are.”
The edge of his hand struck his palm as he spoke.
“You are not with that girl. You are not in that fight. You are standing in a room full of people bound by the same snare.”
His tone cut sharp.
“Do not forget it.”
The roar of the falls swelled, marking the weight of his charge.
He turned to Gabriel.
“Do you have your invitation yet?”
Gabriel reached into his cloak and pulled a folded parchment, the wax seal already broken. He held it up with a wry twist of his mouth. “Right here.”
He opened it, eyes skimming the page, then lifted his gaze to Viktor. The look said everything—brace yourself.
“It’s time.”
Chapter Thirty
A Kiss in Shadow
It was not the vow, not the fire, only a shadow of both—and still it burned.
Castle Rhidian did not greet them with order or majesty.
The corridor was a riot of silk and perfume. Elves darted between doorways, half-dressed and laughing, their chambers gaudy extensions of themselves. Music spilled from one room, arguments from another—the whole hall thrumming like a hive. Even the air felt drunk—sweet with incense, heavy with sin.
Gabriel swept an arm at the chaos and nudged Viktor with his elbow.
“After you…”
Viktor rolled his eyes and stepped forward—and the noise shifted.
Whispers slashed through the laughter, quick and cutting.
“Who is that tall elf?”
“He must be a giant—”
“A human!”
“Do you think he’s married?”
Viktor pressed on until the shimmer of a plaque caught his eye:Emerald Room. He cut between two jeweled courtiers, caught the knob, and pushed through.
Gabriel slammed the door after them and leaned against it with a theatrical groan.
“She-elves,” he muttered. “Absolutely ravenous.”
Viktor smirked.
“Isshehere?”
