“Zevayr,” he finally bites out, eyes blazing. “I have been lenient with you. I allowed you to marry her, accepted her,truly, as my daughter-in-law. You upended my carefully laid plans with your infatuation.” A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Butthis, I cannot allow. What will the nobility say? The princess acting as an ordinary medic? Sullying her hands with the commons?”
“She isanythingbut ordinary,” I snap. The sky rumbles. “Think of the benefits. Injuries and ailments healed away. No more blights, sicknesses. Fewer deaths. The nobility can’t be so blind as to not recognize the value of ahealer. Mayah is kind andselfless in her need to help others. Not that I expect either of you to understand. Shewillbe allowed to heal—”
“Or else?” Faramir looks fucking gleeful, steepling his hands beneath his chin. “I sense an ‘or else.’”
“Yes, Zevayr,” my father adds, scowling. “‘She will be allowed to heal’ or elsewhat?”
I grit my teeth. I need to play this very carefully.
“Or else you can deal with the Rebellion on your own.”
The door to our chambers flings open with a thud, louder than I intended, but irritation still clings to my every breath.
Mayah yelps, snapping her book shut.
She steals my breath. Dark hair curls around her shoulders, full lips turned down in a pout. There’s a wariness in her eyes that guts me.
I need to do better. Iwillbe better.
My gaze drifts to her lap, whereFaerahzar the Greatrests in her hands. She’s still reading it, despite her anger with me. Something sharp lodges into my heart.
For a beat, we just stare at each other, and then I’m striding across the room. Her familiar scent eases the tightness in my chest, wrapping itself around me like an embrace.
“Are you still upset?” she asks, staring up at me. Her voice is steady, but the frantic pulse of her energy signature reveals her true feelings. If I set my palm over her heart, I know I’d find it thundering.
“With myself. Not with you.” I offer my hand. The tightness in my chest eases further when she clasps it loosely. “Come on.” I pull her from the sofa.
I wave away Gregoran and Freynk when they move to follow us.
“Where are we going?” Mayah asks as we walk through the torchlit corridors. I glance down at her feet, where she’s hiked up her simple blue gown to match my strides. I slow to her pace.
“It’s a surprise.”
We wind through corridors, cross open-air bridges, a path I could navigate with my eyes closed. Halfway up the narrow, spiraling staircase, Mayah’s breath escapes in sharp pants. Though it’s tempting, I know she’d snap at me if I offered to carry her the rest of the way, and that wouldn’t help my reconciliation efforts.
We emerge onto a small terrace—my favorite hideaway as a child. Mother would often find me here after Faramir had been cruel or if I didn’t excel in my wielding lessons.
Stone arches frame the black sky, beset with twinkling stars. The servants followed my instructions to the letter. Candles line the edges of the terrace, casting a soft glow over the stone. A large blanket waits in the center, its corners weighted with stones from the gardens.
Mayah looks unimpressed.
“Another picnic?Thisis your grand apology?”
Her ire coaxes a smile to my lips. I clasp her small hands in mine. “Forgive me, Mayah.”
I lead her to the edge of the terrace, the capital stretching out before us. “This is what I wanted to show you on our wedding night. Before the evening … took a turn.”
She snorts. “That’s one way to describe an assassination attempt.”
I chuckle, drawing her close until her back is flush with my chest. “This was my favorite view in all of Arbinj,” I whisper in her ear.
“Was?”
It’s you now, baby. It’s you.
But I can’t say that. Not yet.
So, instead, I tell her, “I used to come here as a boy when I wanted to be alone—which was often.”
