“Mercy,” I repeated bitterly.
He looked down at the clothes in his hands, some of the ease gone from his face.
“I wasn’t allowed out in public after the execution. I was training to be a healer—one of the best. I think that’s why she doesn’t recognize me.”
A pause.
I studied him for a moment, really studied him. He was still holding the formal jacket I’d handed him, the humor faded now from his face, replaced with something steadier.
I leaned back against the stone mantle, arms crossed. “How did you even end up here, Santiago? I wasn’t the one who pulled you in.”
He exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was traveling. Looking for herbs that only grow near the cliffs above Nyxarra. There’s one in particular—leaves like rusted gold, root bitter as fire, but if brewed right, it can steady a mind unraveling from within. Not Etherblooms, but similar. Theoretically stronger and more effective.”
He paused. “I couldn’t help them back then. Couldn’t do anything for Aurelia or Aeryn. But if there was even a chance I could help people like them now... I had to try.”
There was no arrogance in his voice. Just quiet conviction.
I inclined my head slightly. “You could’ve gone anywhere.”
He shrugged. “But nowhere else had the plant. And maybe... maybe something in me knew I needed to be here.”
I let that settle. “There’s a man from Synnex,” I said carefully. “Tall, tan skin. Bright green eyes. Long dark hair—messy, falls in his face. Sound familiar?”
Santiago straightened, brow lifting. “Oh. That sounds like Hayat.” The name hung there, finally spoken.
“Rumored to be Aurelia’s lover,” he added, not unkindly. “But I’ve never believed that. I think he was just... a good friend. To her. And to Aeryn. Though, he probably wanted more from Aurelia.”
His tone changed slightly, tinged with caution. “Why do you ask?”
“No real reason,” I said, shrugging as I turned away, busying myself with a loose strap on my armor.
“Just saw him in one of her dreams. Thought it was curious.”
Santiago tilted his head, thoughtful. “Ahh… dreamwalking. Rare, even among the old bloodlines.” A flicker of wonder crossed his face.
He sat at the edge of the chair, still holding the jacket. “Do you think she’s seeing him for a reason?”
“I think nothing she sees is without purpose,” I said—choosing not to elaborate on the fact that I’d nearly walked into a sex dream between the two of them. Possibly because I’d been invading her mind. Possibly because I liked to think I still have some morals.
Santiago nodded slowly, eyes lowering. “Well… if Hayat’s found his way here, dream or otherwise, I don’t believe he’d be here to hurt her.”
“You have your clothes,” I said, gesturing toward the door. “Off you go.”
“Right. Thank you.” He stood, still smiling like he hadn’t a care in the world. “See you there.”
I watched him go. Why he was so lighthearted in a place like this, I couldn’t begin to understand. But whatever light lived in him, whatever strange, stubborn joy he carried, the city could use more of it.
27
Aurelia
Lysara walked beside me,the soft rustle of her red gown echoing down the corridor. The silk hugged her figure, every step a gliding strike of elegance and power. Her crimson hair was swept into an intricate coil, sharp strands framing her face. Kohl ringed her almond-shaped eyes, drawing focus to their opulence—like garnets set in porcelain.
She let the scar on her shoulder show, and somehow I knew that she did that for me.
The castle buzzed around us. Keepers darted back and forth in a flurry of last-minute preparations—carrying platters, fluffing velvet drapes, polishing silver to a mirror shine.
Candlelight flickered from towering chandeliers, casting golden shadows across the stone floors.