11
Dayton
The Autumn nobles are readying to depart. The vibrant colors of their carriages contrast sharply against the pale landscape
of Soltide Keep. I stand near the edge of the courtyard, my heart a tangle of emotions, watching as Farron and his people
ready themselves for the journey home.
Damocles stands with Niamh, clutching her hands as they engage in some last-minute gossip—no doubt lamenting that they
couldn’t get a formal engagement out of Farron and me. In fact, as far as Damocles is concerned, we’re barely amicable
acquaintances.
I certainly don’t make my acquaintances scream the way I made Fare scream last night, though. I don’t hear my
acquaintance’s heart as I lie on their chest, the sound more important than anything in the world.
I think the High Prince and Niamh are distracted enough that I can say a brief goodbye.
Farron’s eyes widen as I approach him. I can already hear his siblings arguing from inside the carriage.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi.” We’ve spent the whole last month together, our days and nights filled with laughter and adventures. I want to crash my lips
against his one last time, taste the sweetness of his mouth. But that would reveal everything, share this treasure of a month with
everyone.
Instead, I take his hands in mine, squeezing them tightly. “I’ll see you at the Autumn Equinox Festival,” I say, voice steady
despite the ache in my chest. “And then at Winter Solstice.”
“That feels so far away.” Farron’s smile is tinged with sadness. “You better be there.”
“I will. I promise.”
For a moment, we stand there, the world fading into the background. His gaze drops to my lips. I want to pull him close, to
kiss him one last time, but the weight of our families’ eyes feels too heavy. Instead, I release his hands and step back.
Farron lingers a little longer before he turns and opens the door to the carriage. The Autumn caravan begins to move. Their
departure is torturous.
As the carriages roll away, the clatter of wheels and the sound of hooves filling the air, a sense of emptiness settles over
me. I try to sort through my feelings. I’ve never been one to be content with a single lover, switching partners as often as I
switch my clothes, sometimes entertaining more than one during the same night. But I didn’t even think of another’s flesh all
month. My entire being craves him. What do I do now until the Equinox? Remain celibate? I shudder at the thought.
But the notion of descending into one of the bars of Hadria, of losing myself in drink and sweaty skin...
Farron and I never said we would only be intimate with each other. What if he has a newfound fondness for it and explores
back in Autumn?
My hands curl into fists, and I have a mind to race after his carriage and—
And what? Drop to one knee and beg him to make me his consort? To become a piece in this ever-rigid game of politics
and princesses and princes? To lose the sea and the sand forever?
These weeks have been magical, but it’s over now.
It’s over.
I stand there long after the carriages have disappeared from view, the courtyard quiet once more. The rest of my family has
left, and only my mother remains. Her long blond hair is curled and falls over her shoulders. She gives me a soft smile.
“Hey, Mom,” I say.
“Hello, my baby,” she says, wrapping her arms around me.
I lean down so my cheek rests on the crown of her head.
“I think that was a very productive embassy stay,” my mother says. “We should invite Niamh and her family next year as
well.”
“We should.”
“Her first-born son is quite the character.”
I step back and raise a brow. “Careful, you’re starting to sound like Dammy.”
My mother smooths down my hair, the only one in the world capable of making it stay flat. “The High Prince notices
political moves, issues with his trades and tariffs, but a mother”—her blue eyes glint—“a mother notices the lightness of her
son’s laugh, the ease of his smile, and the sparkle in his eyes. And who they often land upon.”
I run a hand through my hair, messing it all up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Her knowing smile widens. “I have been blessed to find two great loves in my life. It’s not something you should shy away
from, no matter what difficulties there seem to be. My father himself fell for one of the Huntresses of Aura. The stories my
grandmother told me of leaving her order to become a princess consort—”
“I still have no idea what you’re talking about,” I chide, but a fire burns beneath my ribs.
“Regardless, my darling boy, I know you.” Her voice is soft as she says, “You’ve changed.”
I close my eyes, the burning sensation next to my heart intensifying. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”