“Let me fill every part of you that still aches.”
Her fingers clenched in the folds of his robe.
And when he bent to claim her again, the world spun away—
Like silk unwinding from a spindle.
Like breath curling into mist.
Like two stars collapsing into one.
Later, the chamber still smelled of him. Warm spice and glyphing oil, a whisper of crushed flowers and something exotic—crisp air and rain and musk. The bedding had been remade, the sheets freshened and scented with oils and incense. All evidence of the wild morning had been erased, but the subtle tremor in Auryn’s thighs made it impossible to forget the way Kailorien had taken her only a few hours before.
Now, she stood still while Lu’ma tied the final knot at the small of her back, each motion careful and precise. Today, Auryn would wear one of her new gowns for the first time. Each one was a work of art, unique and unlike anything she’d ever seen before. At first, Auryn wondered if Lu’ma possessed the skills to dress her in the eccentric and complex gowns Krystopolis favored. For years, Auryn had worn nothing but the simplest of dresses.
“You are incredible, Lu’ma,” Auryn smiled. “I couldn’t have figured out these knots without hours of study and demonstration, yet you immediately knew how the style was intended to be worn.”
'Your Radiance praises this Nameless too much. It is duty. The Sokâr was always meant to wear fabrics like this. To glow. To show others her divinity,'Lu’ma signed with a graceful flourish of her fingers, her dark eyes luminous with approval. 'Truly, His Quintessence has chosen a dress fit for the Sovereign Star.'
Auryn managed a smile, one hand brushing along the gown’s curve at her waist. “He has good taste,” she murmured, half to herself. Then, with a soft huff of breath, “Too good, sometimes.”
The gown was white, stark as snow, but threaded with gold that caught the light in sunfire glints. It clung to her waist and hips, then fell into a column of sheer, shimmering silk that moved like water with each breath. Her shoulders were bare, her collarbones kissed with a touch of rose balm, and a long veil cascaded down her back from beneath the slim circlet that crowned her brow.
The diadem was low-profile, its metal a dusky auric alloy, elegant and unassuming at a glance. However, the stones set into it were anything but. Starcut emeralds and sun-opals, the kind only mined in the deepest vaults of Iliri, glittered like fragments of fallen stars.
And the slippers, blessedly, had no heel. Just the softest gold-threaded soles, so she could walk in silence and comfort, just the way she liked.
Behind her, Lu’ma stepped back and signed with a subtle flourish, 'Your Radiance is ready.'
At the far end of the chamber, Kailorien hadn’t moved in nearly ten minutes. He sat at his study with his head bowed, one hand curled into a fist against his mouth, the other turning a quill slowly between his fingers.
He hadn’t looked at her. Not once since Lu’ma began dressing her. His knuckles whitened around the quill. Auryn turned, pulse flickeringat the tension in his shoulders—at the way his runes seemed to call to her just beneath his skin. Watching her, even if he wasn’t.
She took a slow, grounding breath. “Are you coming with me to the Prismatum?” she asked.
Kailorien didn’t lift his head. Just said in a tone edged with restraint, “If I look at you now, I won’t let you leave the room.”
Lu’ma made an odd sort of sound.
Auryn flushed. “It is only a dress.”
“No," he countered. “It’s proof I have no self-control. Void help the Council if they see you like this and think you’re theirs to summon. They’ll bleed before I let them lay claim.”
He sat. Controlled. Coiled. Eyes still down.
Lu’ma swept back toward the corner of the room, blending into shadow, ever-watchful.
Kailorien crossed to Auryn with decisive steps. He stopped in front of her, gaze fixed stubbornly on the floor.
“You look…” he whispered. “I have no words.”
She tilted her head, amused now. “You always have words.”
“Not for this,” he murmured, then finally lifted his gaze to her face. He stepped in closer, his proximity stealing her breath. His fingers ghosted along the edge of her veil, careful not to disturb the weave. One knuckle brushed her collarbone.
“You’re dangerous like this,” he said. “Beautiful, yes. Butdangerous.Because I forget where we’re supposed to be going. I forget why I let you out of my arms in the first place.”
Auryn arched a brow higher, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “Is our eloquent Resh’Agar at a loss?”
