Caelian stared at her sister, who was both flustered with frustration and fuming with indignation. She knew well enough what it was like to chase after a male who wanted nothing to do with her. “Did Prince Aspen say anything when he gave you the ring?”
Sarelle shoved a fallen strand of hair back from her intricately woven tresses, then blew out a harsh breath. “Only that he hopes I think of him whenever I wear it, and if I’m ever in need of anything, I have only to ask.”
“And have you?” Caelian prodded.
“Have I what?”
“Have you asked the ring anything?”
Sarelle snorted, then laughed loudly, covering her mouth with one hand. “Don’t be absurd, Cae. The ring is not magical, I can’taskit anything.”
Cocking one hip to the side, Caelian shifted the assortment of things in her arms, brows lifting with a plausible notion. “Are you certain? It’s the Prince of Aeramere, Sarelle. I highly doubt he would just give you an ordinary ring with such a vaguely intriguing statement and have it mean nothing.”
Concern crinkled across Sarelle’s smooth brow. “You’re serious? You think I should ask the ring something?”
“I don’t see any harm in it.” Caelian carried the armful of letters and unique objects out of the study and walked throughthe bedchamber to leave. “Especially if I’m right. Are you coming with me?”
“I’ll be right there. I want to see if I can reuse any of Mother’s gowns. You know, the ones she purchased and never wore.” There was a pause, and then Sarelle’s voice carried from behind her. “What should I ask it?”
“Something small and mundane to start, to see if anything happens,” Caelian tossed over her shoulder. “Perhaps you should ask it about the weather.”
“Good idea.”
“I have them on occasion.” Laughter bubbled up the back of Caelian’s throat, the sound practically foreign, for she could not recall the last time she laughed. She sailed out of the bedchamber and into the main hall, when the lightness of her mood instantly dimmed.
There was the scent of him, of cold pine, frozen rivers, and sea salt, so powerful it left her gasping for air. It slammed into her and before she could stop herself, Caelian rounded the corner. She barely had time to react before she plowed into the solid, immovable wall of his chest.
The letters went flying, scattering around her.
The baubles and things clattered to the ground, rolling away in every direction.
Caelian yelped, arms flailing, then landed directly on her bottom, wincing as a sharp pain shot from the base of her spine to her neck. She glared up at Kjeld, tempered fury tugging her mouth into a scowl. So much for always being a gentleman.
Kjeld, the bastard, had let her fall. Worse, he hadn’t done a damn thing to stop it.
CHAPTER FOUR
Shit.
Kjeld was certain his day could not get any worse. Not only was Caelian Starstorm going to be accompanying him back to Brackroth, but the lady in question was currently sprawled on her ass because of him. It had been an accident, of course, but she’d run right into him and now she was on the ground, legs outstretched, with her pale purple dress crumpled around her in a heap. Her sleeve dipped down past her shoulder, affording him a delightful glimpse of smooth flesh, but then she tugged it back into place. Her sapphire gaze latched onto him, darkening to the likeness of obsidian.
“Forgive me, my lady.” He lowered himself to one knee in an attempt to help her collect her scattered belongings. “I did not see you there.”
“No, I suppose not,” she snapped, then huffed out a breath of annoyance. “Considering I’m invisible to the likes of you.”
Kjeld locked his jaw. Engaging in another argument with her would be futile. She clambered onto her knees, and he watched as she grabbed a rock, a necklace fashioned of leather and bone, and a feather, stuffing them into the pockets of her skirt. His brows pushed together in silent question. What a peculiarcollection of bits and pieces. He never recalled her being the sort to amass items of a natural element, as from his most recent notice, she much preferred things that sparkled. He scooped up the random letters she’d been carrying and shoved them into her arms.
Caelian’s scowl only deepened. “I rest my case.”
Her waspish lashings annoyed him. She had no reason to be angry. All her suffering, all her misgivings, were her own fault.
“You’re not invisible.” He practically snarled and Caelian froze in place. “I avoid you on purpose. To spare you from my wrath.”
Kneeling together, they were barely a breath apart. In fact, they were sharing the same air, and it would be all too easy for him to lean in and inhale her. To fuse the delicately floral and warm, delicious scent of her into his lungs. She hastily tucked a few pieces of hair back behind her pointed ear, and the gemstones she wore glittered like starlight. Caelian said nothing in return, only stared at him in silent shock. Clutching the letters to her bosom, lashes fluttering wildly, pretty pink lips slightly parted. He realized all too late this was quite possibly the first time he had addressed her, and her alone, since she had saved his life.
His gaze flicked from her mouth to her neck, where that impossibly itchy fabric seemed to suffocate her. If he could have his way, he’d rip it off her right now, free her from its smothering confines.
She pulled at it again, her nails scratching against the stiff collar.
