He hesitates, as though wrestling against it.
And then he kisses me.
Having spent the last seventeen years locked away, it will come as no surprise that I have never been kissed before. The sensation is entirely new to me. I didn’t think I’d know what to do, but my lips move instinctively, parting for his.
The kiss is slow, and achingly gentle. One of his hands glides up my back and into my hair, while the other bunches in the silk of my dress, just above my hip. My eyes have fluttered shut, my body moulding itself to his, my stomach flipping over with every touch, every press and slide of his mouth. My arms wind round his neck, reeling him closer.
The whole world seems to go quiet.
For a moment, nothing else matters. No one else exists.
But then Hal draws back sharply, startling me. I open my eyes to find his expression guilty.
‘I shouldn’t have done that,’ is all he says.
I stand there in the darkness long after he leaves, leaning heavily against the door. Slowly, I trace a finger across my lips, while something warm stirs inside my chest, mingled with a sweet kind of pain I never knew existed.
25
For the next week, the news of Hal’s secret betrothal looms over me.
That, and the kiss. I relive it over and over. The soft pressure of his lips, the scent of lemons on his skin.
I don’t know what to make of it. I don’t know where we stand now. He’s spent most of this week shut away inside the Council Chambers with an army of Imperial advisers, yet despite this, and the fresh bunches of golden roses waiting for me in my rooms each day after I return from training, I can’t quite shake the feeling that he’s avoiding me. The thought fills me with dread. Because I want him to seek me out, just as he always has, time and time before. I want him to want me the same way I think I’m starting to want him.
Was this his way of breaking things off? A goodbye of sorts? A first kiss, and a last. Only, the thing is, it didn’t feel like an ending.
Tonight, as Elva helps me dress, I rub my thumb over the cool glass surface of the nightlight, pretending to listen to Spinner’s evaluation of the twelve remaining Heirs. It’s only when she waves a hand in front of my face that I realize she’s waiting on a response.
I blink at her. ‘What?’
‘Wakeup, Blaze.Flint. Did he mention me at all today?’ She examines her gold-silk gloves as though she isn’t waiting for my answer with bated breath.
‘I haven’t seen him much,’ I admit. ‘Oh, but yesterday he said something about you saying something about …’ I narrow my eyes, trying to remember.
Spinner hands me a set of pearl earrings, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘You really areawfulat this sort of stuff. You know that, right?’
‘Harsh,’ I tell her. ‘I haven’t exactly had a lot of practice. Besides,you’rethe Eye. If my brother is of that much interest to you, I’d have thought you’d have at least one of your three trained on him at all times.’
Spinner just tuts, and twirls her finger for me to spin.
Prince Hal doesn’t eat with the Heirs this evening. Instead he sits on a golden throne set on the dais above, poker-straight and silent next to the emperor, who appears even more haggard than before. Both he and Hal have the same dark circles under their eyes, which are only accentuated by the paleness of their skin. I wonder if the pressure of what’s to come is making them ill. For Hal, the burden of taking on the role of emperor. For his father, the idea of leaving it behind.
The prince’s gaze is trained on our table, only not on me. It rests on the boy sitting at its head, who seems to have no end of adoring sycophants desperate for his attention. Perhaps Hal dining with the Council is a way of sending the Earth Cleaver a message, reminding him, reminding everyone, that while they may share blood,heis the prince, a trueborn Castellion.
Whether or not Fox has noticed his brother’s attempt to pull rank, he doesn’t seem to care. He’s leaning back in his chair, sipping wine and smirking at something one of the Ventalla Heirs is whispering in his ear.
The image of Fjord tangled in a web of vines slips unbidden into my consciousness, and I look quickly down at my hands. I run my fingers over my glowing brandmark, reminded of the orb of light Hal had conjured in the broom cupboard, so similar to those that float gently around the Golden Library, where I’ve taken to spending most evenings. I was apprehensive about returning after my late-night run-in with the Earth Cleaver, and yet my armchair has remained steadfastly empty, with no sign of either Fox or that strange old man. I want to find the old man, to find out how he knows about my gifts being Melded, and to discover whatever he thinks he knows about the art of wave carving, especially since I haven’t been able to carve so much as a ripple. And mastering this skill would not only please River and wipe the smirk off Marina’s face but might also prove useful in the second trial, which, terrifyingly, is just two weeks away. Though, of course, to do that I first have to determine what my anchor is, which so far is not proving to be an easy task.
The sight of Hal makes my chest ache, and I find I don’t have much of an appetite. I’m just about to slink off to bed when I notice Flint’s eyes widening in surprise at something behind me. Before I can turn round, somebody covers my own eyes with their hands. Their very small hands. Small and slightly sticky with … chocolate.
‘Renly!’ I exclaim, as my little brother throws his arms round my neck.
Even over the din, I can hear the rap of her stick.
‘Maker almighty, Blaze, I tell you I did not know a moment’s peace until I agreed to bring him here to see you.’ Grandmother pats Renly’s tangle of curls. ‘You have your sister’s stubbornness and your brother’s powers of persuasion, don’t you, little one?’
Renly giggles while the rest of the Heirs bow their heads respectfully, even Fox. Grandmother kisses Flint and me before departing for the Ignitia table.
