Page 133 of The Fifth Heir

Talia entered first, carrying the folded harness instructions. Color remained high in her cheeks, and the crystal torc at her throat continued catching the light with every movement.

Rafe followed.

He looked entirely too pleased with himself.

Talia looked pleased too. Her mouth was pink from the cold wind—or from the kiss I had interrupted in the garden. Frost gathered across the metal nib between my fingers before I forced it away.

I lowered my pen. “The flight master has requested your presence.”

“Did you tell him I landed safely?”

“I told him what occurred.”

“Then he knows.”

Talia placed the instructions on the desk. “I chose to fly.”

“No one suggested otherwise.”

“You’re writing a report.”

“Because Rafe ignored the approved conditions.”

“I agreed to the second circuit.”

“The conditions were designed to protect you.”

“I was protected.”

“Because nothing went wrong.”

Rafe leaned against her desk. “I believe this is where you congratulate us.”

“It isn’t.”

The wall runes turned cold white.

The Wing had begun to make privacy impossible. I could regulate Frost through battlefield pain, political negotiation, and three days without sleep. Apparently, I could not prevent a wall from noticing jealousy.

Talia looked at them, then at me.

For one unreasonable second, I remembered the garden turning red while she kissed Rafe.

I had cleared my throat because the flight master was waiting.

That was all.

A knock came from the outer door.

An academy messenger entered carrying a sealed envelope marked with my family crest.

He handed it to me and waited.

The seal belonged to my father.

The message contained six words.

North Council Chamber. Come alone. Immediately.