“I didn’t ask for company,” she snapped, her grip whitening on the poker at her side. Her gaze cut to Lysara. “Unless you’re here to take me to your prince, so I can get what I came for.”
Lysara stepped forward, all grace and calm, her voice smooth as candlelight. “Forgive the intrusion. I am Lysara. I am a Keeper here in Nyxarra. I offer what is needed: guidance, nourishment, rest, comfort.”
Aurelia’s chin lifted, her arms crossing her chest like armor. “Then you should know—I don’t need keeping.”
“No,” Lysara said gently, her eyes luminous and unreadable. “But sometimes what we need is not what we expect.”
A beat of silence stretched between them, delicate and taut.
“She’ll show you to your chambers,” I added casually.
Aurelia’s head snapped toward me. Her voice was sharp, incredulous. “I’m not staying. I have responsibilities. A home.”
“Then you can bring it up to Kaelith at dinner this evening,” I replied, already turning away. “See how well that goes.”
Lysara remained by her side, offering a small, sympathetic smile. “Come. Let me show you where you’ll be resting. At least until you decide whether to stay… or fight your way out.”
15
Aurelia
I stood there,watching Lysara.
Even in the low glow of the corridor sconces, she looked otherworldly. Before I could speak, a flutter of wings danced overhead. Seraphine hovered closer, sniffing delicately in my direction. Her nose wrinkled in mock curiosity. “This one smells like a summer storm and unresolved decisions.”
Santiago, still crouched near a stack of books, let out a quiet snort. “That’s oddly specific.”
Seraphine spun midair with a hum. “Ah yes—and the watchful one, who smells like burnt incense and repressed emotion. I have an excellent nose for moods.”
Santiago let out another small laugh, and I found myself blinking at him. Against my will, the corner of my mouth twitched, but the thought of Aeryn cut the flicker of humor short.
Lysara’s gaze flicked toward Santiago for a breath too long. Something like recognition softened her expression before she masked it with a polite smile. Her eyes caught on the bit of tideglass glinting at his collar.
“Nice necklace,” she said lightly.
Santiago’s mouth curved faintly. “Thanks. It was a gift.”
The air between them shifted subtly, but it wasn’t lost on me. Whatever passed in that glance, they buried it quickly. I looked between them, uncertain whether to ask or ignore the way her smile dimmed before she turned back to me.
“We don’t have time for this,” I muttered, low, more to myself than them.
But Lysara’s hand was suddenly on my arm, grounding, her voice soft as silk. “Come, let’s get you settled. The healer will be joining us as well.”
I stiffened. “I’m not sharing a room with anyone. I’ve survived on my own this long.”
“You won’t have to,” she assured me. “There are four connected chambers—Santiago will take the first, then my own, yours next, and… Malachi’s is the last.”
I frowned. “That seems… deliberate.”
Lysara’s mouth twitched. “They were built for the bonded—Keepers and their chosen counterparts. The walls carry enchantments for protection, healing, and—if the gods are kind—peace. But they’ve been empty for years.”
“Why not use them?” I asked.
“The upper wing runs cold,” she said. Her tone was mild, but there was something knowing behind it. “Most of us prefer the warmth below—the lower halls were built near the heart of the castle, where the fire never dies.”
She hesitated, a flicker of something softer passing across her features. “Besides,” she added with a wink, “it’s easier to keep secrets when you’re close to the dark.”
Something about the way she said it made me wonder how much slipping in and out she’d done over the years—and what secrets she carried from the shadows of this place.