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Eagan sighs and pushes the rest of the pastry into his mouth, heading toward Arlo with the grim patience of someone walking toward a punishment he did not earn.

Arlo, not seeing Eagan’s approach, says something that makes one of the crewmen shove him, knocking him into someone else. Arlo swings wildly at the man, but Eagan is there instantly to pull him back.

Arlo takes a swing at Eagan as well, but when he misses, Eagan catches him by the back of his shirt and turns him with one hand, steering him away from the crowd. Arlo argues loudly enough that I catch my name once and Kylian’s twice.

I’m about to follow when Kylian’s hand closes around mine.

“Let Eagan handle him.”

“He hates me.”

“He is drunk and hurt,” Kylian says. “Tonight he hates everything, but he isn’t old enough to know what little joy can be found at the bottom of a bottle.”

I look up at him, surprised again by how carefully he speaks of a man he hates.

“You keep being kinder toward him than I expect.”

His gaze stays on the side street where Eagan has dragged Arlo out of trouble.

“It has nothing to do with showing him kindness. I am only trying not to make your pain worse.”

The last fireworks bloom overhead in violet and gold, and I let myself lean into him because I am too tired and love how the bond feels when I am in his arms.

And that is the thing that frightens me most, standing here in the lantern light with his heartbeat under my cheek. I have spent so long telling myself this pull is the bond, that it chose him for me before I ever had a say, that I could blame the wanting on magic and keep my heart out of it. But the bond did not teach him to warm my hands when they were frozen, or to hand me pieces of my mother like they were treasure, or to stand between me and a mob without hesitation. The bond did not make him kind to the boy he wants to kill for my sake.

If someone cut every thread of it out of me tonight, unraveled it until there was nothing tying me to him at all, I would still turn toward him in a crowded room. I would still choose him.

CHAPTER 64

• Alessia •

BY MORNING, THE festival streets have gone quiet.

The lanterns hang pale in the morning light, and the fires in the street bowls are nothing but dark ash when the ship pulls away from Malachor and turns toward the elven kingdom.

The journey feels shorter than it should.

Arlo stays below deck for most of it, either sleeping off the alcohol or avoiding me. Eagan says nothing about last night, and Kylian remains close like he can feel my sadness over Arlo through the bond.

By the time Avelvorn rises from the water, the air has turned bitter enough to sting my lungs. It amazes me how vast each island is, as if they all have their own atmosphere, different from the others.

White cliffs stand above the sea with pale towers beyond them, dark roofs heavy with snow, and the whole kingdom sits in silence.

Kylian’s expression hardens beside me as the ship pulls into port.

“You and Arlo stay aboard,” he says.

My head whips in his direction. “I’m not staying behind.”

“This kingdom is dangerous for you.”

“Isn’t every kingdom?”

Eagan, who stands nearby with his arms folded, looks out over the frozen dock and pretends he is not listening.

Kylian steps closer, his eyes locked on mine.

“Why must you be so stubborn? I am saying this because bringing you onto that dock could incite another war.”