It took three days for Xander to finally approach her about the things she’d overheard. Three days of long meetings with the advisors, of appointments with the seamstress, of meals with the queen, of fleeting glances and nervous laughter and her heart leaping into her throat every time they had a second alone together.
In the end, they were in his study when he finally found the courage to look up from his books and say, “Lyana, could I talk to you about something? Just for a moment?”
She’d been standing by the window, looking down at the flurry of activity in the city below. The buildings that had crumbled were already being rebuilt. The street had been cleared. But what had caught her eye were the pockets of color at the base of each spirit gate. The flowers were made even brighter by the monotone backdrop of ebony arches and gray stone, and they were growing larger with each passing day. She’d spent the prior week healing everyone she could, and the people were rejoicing in what they believed was Taetanos’s strength. But now the celebrations focused on something else—the upcoming mating ceremony of their god-blessed prince and princess.
His voice jolted her from her ruminations, and she spun. “Of course. What…”
The second she laid eyes on him, the words died upon her lips, because she knew. The moment was here. The one she’d been dreading for days. The one she knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid. He was watching her with his head lowered, pale skin giving him away as his cheeks flushed pink. There was a box in his hand, though she could hardly see it, he held it so tightly between his fingers. And there was such a hopeful look in his eyes, hesitant yet hopeful.
Lyana swallowed.
She forced a relaxed smile to her lips even as her stomach muscles clenched. “What, Xander?”
“Nothing, I just—” He paused and took a few steps, crossing the room as he pushed the box into his pocket. Lyana remained motionless as he slipped his fingers between hers and stared deep into her eyes, searching for something she wished were there but knew wasn’t. “The ceremony is only a few days away, and I just wanted to tell you— I mean, I hope you know by now that you’re very special to me. And to my people.”
“And you to me,” Lyana replied. The words were true, but twisted, because she knew he would take them in a different way than she meant. He was special to her—so kind and caring and warm and charming, a wonderful friend and companion. But he was speaking of a different sort of special, a meaning she wasn’t prepared to give.
“The vows we’ll be saying,” he continued, tenderly rubbing his thumb over her skin. “I’ll hold them closer to my heart than any pledge to the gods I’ve ever made before. I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking about this day, wondering what it would hold, who I would share it with, and I want you to know, I’m happy it’s you. And I’m happy we got this chance to get to know each other before the ceremony, so that when the vows are spoken, they won’t just be empty words, but true and honest promises to each other.”
Her throat was dry. Beneath her skin, her pulse pounded, a drumming she was sure he must have felt.
“I—” She licked her lips, trying to find the words, but there was a vise clamping down on her throat. The bookshelves in the room seemed to close in as the windows disappeared, and everything became very dark as her head swam.
Xander didn’t seem to notice. He released her hand, cutting off her tether to the world, and reached into his pocket to retrieve the box. When he pressed a button, her vision started going blurry, but it was clear enough to discern the glittering emerald as the lid sprang open.
“I found this among the family heirlooms.” He fumbled with the box. Using his leg as an anchor, he held it down with his right forearm and slid the ring free with his left hand. “It reminded me of you. And I’d like you to have it, because…love is giving a piece of yourself to someone else and trusting them not to break it, and I’d like this to be a symbol of the piece of my heart I’ve given to you.”
The words were so like the ones she’d heard Rafe use the day before.
Similar, and yet so different.
From Xander’s lips, with Xander’s voice, they didn’t pierce the way Rafe’s had. They were just there, filling space, leaving a sick feeling in her gut as they lingered, growing larger and larger, cutting off air.
He slid the ring over her finger.
The band was slightly too big, and it wobbled unsteadily. Xander folded her fingers to keep it in place. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it softly, the way a true gentleman would, lavender eyes simmering so brightly she ached to turn away.
Her mouth fell open. Her lips parted and twitched. Pressure surged up her throat, words that wouldn’t come.
He waited and watched.
Now would be the perfect time to give him a little bit of her, to open her heart, to maybe send a sprinkle of warm magic into his skin. Xander would keep her secret, just like he kept Rafe’s—of that Lyana was certain. He was too good a person not to. There was even a chance he would still look at her the same way, as though she were the dawn of a new day, the beginning of something wonderful. If she told him the truth, if she gave him that chance, maybe his words wouldn’t feel so empty, maybe their vows wouldn’t seem so daunting, maybe the future wouldn’t either.
But the sound wouldn’t come.
The confession wouldn’t come.
She’d already given that piece to someone else, and there was no more left to share.
“Thank you,” she rasped instead.
Xander blinked for a moment, giving her time to continue, and then he drew himself up, trying to hide the disappointment that so obviously flashed over his features.
“It’s beautiful,” she offered lamely.
He smiled warmly. “I’m glad you think so.”
“I do,” she said, to fill the silence. “I really do.”
“Anyway…” He cleared his throat. “That was all I wanted to talk to you about, so, um, yeah. I have a few more books I was meaning to review, but I was told by an unnamed informant that you’d been itching to get back into the practice fields and stretch your wings, so I told my mother you wouldn’t be seeing her again today. Helen is wicked with knives. She’s waiting for you, to give you a lesson, if you want one.”
For the first time in minutes, Lyana felt as though she could breathe. And she did, sucking in a long, restorative breath, before letting a real, honest smile spread her lips. “Would this unnamed informant happen to have black-and-white speckled wings and a name that rhymes with sassy?”
He laughed softly. The mood between them eased. “A true prince never reveals his sources.”
“And a true princess already knows them anyway,” Lyana retorted. She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek, because it was the best she could do, and something he might not have expected. “Thank you, Xander.”
With that small gesture, she turned and left, trying her best to walk casually and not run from the room. She glanced over her shoulder just as the door was closing to find a grimace on Xander's face as he shook his head and mumbled something that sounded awfully close to idiot. She kept walking. Once the door closed, she started running to the nearest window and then leapt into the sky.
Though she ached to pump her wings, soar into the horizon, and never stop, she arched gently down to the balcony outside her room instead. The ring was a heavy weight on her hand, so she slipped it off and placed it on the nightstand, trying to ignore the way the emerald seemed to watch her, judge her, as she practically tore the gown from her shoulders and dropped it to the floor, letting the cool air wash over her scorching, itchy skin. Unable to bear it, Lyana grabbed the ring and shut it inside a box, but the weight of watching eyes remained, following her from the room and to the practice yards and then to dinner that night, never relenting for the remainder of the day.