Weapon, healer, nature, elemental. Some emerged with gifts rare as flame, others with the common elements.
But none were unchanged.
One had even been damned.
Duke’s glare cut down to me as he straightened, his towering presence a wall I’d crash into repeatedly. His eyes seemed to weigh whether he should drag me to the dungeons himself or keep letting me tempt him closer to trouble.
I lifted my hands in innocence. “Last time. Promise.”
He lowered his shield with a groan, rolling his eyes skyward. “Next time, Iwilltell Callum, understood?”
But I caught it, the hint of play in his gaze, the gentleness that gave him away. He wouldn’t tell Callum. Not this time. Not ever.
I snapped off a sloppy salute. “Yessir.” A lie, and we both knew it. My shoulder brushed his arm as I slipped past him, into the belly of the palace.
A halo of sun fire devoured everything as it poured through the windows in sharp ribbons, flooding the halls, spilling down the corridors in streaks.
Stained glass fractured it into shards of color, vivid shadows dancing across the ivory walls like ghosts that had been painted over in gold.
Everything was laid bare in the palace of light. And yet, it all felt hidden.
A cloying sweetness lingered in the air, the smell of polished herbs and florals. Pretty enough to mask the sterility that choked beneath it.
Every gilded vase, every gleam of spotless stone was meant to remind us—
Luamis was a sanctified, eternal shine where life thrived. But only when it servedhim.And he never let us forget it.
Here, beauty was curated. Light was merciless. And truth? Truth had no place to hide. Because it had been scrubbed clean.
“You know, V, it’s a good thing we’re suchwonderfulfriends.” Elvira twirled across her chambers, light as a feather adrift on a breeze.
She looked like a dream dressed in a white lace satin, spun from honey and the sun.
Her voice lilted, teasing, as she wagged a finger in my direction. “Showing up late to guard a princess is not good demeanor. Never mind doing it as often as you do.”
I sprawled across the velvet couch, tossing Callum’s dagger into the air, the blade flashing silver with each turn. I caught it with lazy precision, never breaking eye contact. Elvira huffed, clearly unimpressed.
“Yes,” I groaned. “Gods forbid I wasn’t here to watch you swoonover your own reflection all morning, my sweet Elva.”
My tone was tender, mocking in equal measure.
She knew better than to doubt me. Knew I would burn the world down before I let harm brush against her.
I was small when Gemma first brought me along to the palace when she was called to heal, preparing me for the day I would hopefully work at her side.
I hated those visits. The marble was always too cold, the halls too quiet.
But then there was Elva.
She was only a young girl then, golden-haired and shy-smiled, tucked away in rooms that felt too big for her.
Somewhere along the way, it stopped being visits and became a life. We grew up together, becoming bound so tightly that I could no longer tell where she ended and I began.
Inseparable. That was the word, but it doesn’t quite hold the truth. Elva wasn’t just a friend anymore.
She became a piece of me.
Stilling mid-step, her pupils thinned. “I don’t swoon.”
