Warm hands close over mine again, grounding me as the world tilts.
“Why’s the room spinning?” I mutter. “And why’s it so damn hot in here?”
I feel him still—not in panic, but in attention.
“Are you drunk?” he asks softly, meant only for me.
“No,” I say too fast, swaying despite myself. His grip tightens just enough to steady me. “Well. Maybe just a little… fluffy.”
Something like a smile ghosts the corner of his mouth.
“Fluffy,” he repeats, teasing—but his eyes search mine, sharp with concern. “Fire—”
“I’m fine,” I insist, but the words blur as my vision spirals.
He leans closer, gold flaring in his eyes like struck metal. “Did Cassian give you something?”
“What does it matter?” I snap, bitterness leaking through the haze.
“Please,” he murmurs. “Focus. Did he?”
“A drink. A dance.” I lift my chin. “He can do what he pleases. And so can I.”
His jaw tightens. “That bastard.”
“No,” I laugh weakly. “You’re the bastard.”
His fingers tense at my spine.
“Come with me.”
He doesn’t wait for my assent, just takes my hand and leads me through the throng of dancers. The crowd parts withoutquestion. Every reflection turns to watch as the king and his chosen slip from the Hall of Mirrors and onto the balcony.
Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I see a tall, blond, golden-eyed man grinning as if this was the plan all along.
The night hits me like cold water. Finally, air rushes into my lungs, sharp and alive. I stumble to the edge of the balcony, bracing my palms against the stone railing. Below, the sea claws at the cliffs, each wave a heartbeat too loud. My chest trembles. My lungs refuse to expand, and for one fractured instant, I think maybe this is how it ends—silenced by my own heart.
He raises his hand to cradle my face, and I lean into his touch. His thumb brushes my temple. Heat flares through my skull, and the fuzz tears away as if burned—gone so fast that my breath catches. The memories of the hall snap into ruthless clarity: candles, mirrors, Cassian’s smirk, Lyra’s head tilted as if listening to a voice I can’t hear.
“What happened?” I whisper.
He draws me closer than propriety allows, shielding me from a danger only he can name. “Cassian gave you fairy wine, then danced with you. That wine makes you compliant or volatile, depending on who stands before you. He was trying to make me jealous.”
“Is that what it did?”
“Yes.Never trust Cassian. And never let him touch you like that.”
I frown. “I wasn’t talking about the wine.Were you jealous?”
He’squiet for a long moment, but the truth is written all over his face.
“Of course I was,” and it’s takingeverythingin me not to march back in there and strangle Cassian.”
“Cassian collects secrets and bargains,” Keiren murmurs, “not hearts.”
“Then what do you collect, Your Majesty?”
“Regrets.” His gaze lifts to mine. “But I refuse to let you be one of them.” He closes the distance between us, cupping my face in his rough hands before placing a reverent kiss on my forehead.
