Her touch lingered on my shoulder. “Tell me,” she said softly, “what drives a mortal girl to come here? Few cross the Veil willingly. Fewer still survive it.”
My reflection wavered in the mirror. “My brother,” I said at last. “He’s all I have left, and I’m all he has. Family is… what keeps me standing.”
Lysara’s gaze found mine in the glass, something knowing in the faint curve of her mouth. “Then we are not so different,” she murmured. “Everyone here has someone they’d burn the world for.”
“So you came to the city that never gives without taking.” Lysara added, her voice soft but certain.
“If it means finding Etherblooms, I’ll pay the cost.”
Her hands stilled briefly, then resumed smoothing the fabric down. “If they can be had,” she murmured, “it will be through him. He is… possessive of the gardens.”
“Kaelith,” I said quietly.
Her eyes met mine in the mirror, soft but sharp. “He grantswhat serves him. Be careful what you make him believe you are worth.”
The words sank deep, heavier than they should have. Kaelith. The name had been a warning in Synnex—whispered alongside tales of Nyxarra’s cruelty. Yet here, his name was law, and law was something I could use.
“Then I’ll make him believe I’m worth everything,” I said quietly. “If that’s what it takes.”
I needed to prepare. If I was going to face Kaelith and ask him for what I needed, I would have to look less like a half-drowned stray and more like someone worth listening to. Aeryn didn’t have time for me to falter.
“Have a seat, please,” Lysara said gently, gesturing toward the vanity—a carved mahogany piece adorned with crystal bottles of oils, perfumes, and tinctures. The green velvet stool looked impossibly plush, inviting in a way that made me hesitate before sinking into it.
She stepped behind me, gathering my damp curls into her hands. She twisted and pinned with quiet precision, shaping my hair into a loose updo. Soft tendrils spiraled free around my face, framing me with effortless elegance.
“There,” Lysara said at last, stepping back. “You’re ready.”
I rose from the velvet stool. In the mirror, I looked like someone else entirely.
But beneath the stitching and the polish, the question clawed its way up my throat.
Ready for what?
16
Aurelia
A knockat the door interrupted my thoughts.
Before I could move, Lysara was already there. Malachi stood on the other side, dressed in black once again. His dark hair, braided in tight, intricate rows along the crown of his head, framed the sharp lines of his face and gathered into a single thick length that trailed down his back. His gaze flicked past Lysara, landing on me.
And for a heartbeat, something unreadable crossed his expression. A flicker—surprise, maybe. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by the familiar veil of disdain he wore like armor.
“She’s ready,” Lysara said smoothly, stepping aside.
“So I see,” he said quietly.
I met his gaze head-on as I approached, refusing to shrink beneath his stare.
“Charmed, truly,” I said dryly, stepping into the hall and glancing over my shoulder. I’d expected Lysara to follow since shewas now my Keeper—whatever that meant. But she lingered in the doorway, her expression calm and unreadable.
“I’ll be down shortly with Santiago,” she said gently.
My eyes narrowed. “Wait—you mean I have to go with him… alone?”
“I only bite things I like, little dove. Don’t worry,” Malachi said with a too-wide grin, more teeth than kindness. His tongue curled lazily, dragging along the tip of his upper canine.
A coil of unease wound tight in my gut. Every instinct screamed at me to stay behind that door, but I forced my chin higher, words spilling out before I could stop them. “How tragic for you, then.”