May the Queen’s light guide you home, she prayed in honor of the fallen saints and the queens and kings who lay resting within the catacombs.
Then she rose to her feet, her dressing gown damp from the dew, and heard a low grunt.
She squinted through the mist rising over the pools and saw Audric on the other side of them, hugged by a cluster of sorrow trees. He wore only trousers and boots, his bare brown torso gleaming with sweat. With Illumenor in hand, he ran through exercise after exercise—cutting the air with the blade, whirling on his feet, dodging imaginary attackers.
The sight of him, lit by the moon from above and the humming sheen of Illumenor from below, was enough to make Rielle lose her breath. His expression was one of utter concentration—brow furrowed, eyes dark and grave.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” Rielle called out.
He turned, lowered his sword. A broad smile spread across his face. “I don’t sleep much these days.”
She made her way toward him along the soft, grassy path between the seeing pools. “And why is that?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He sheathed Illumenor, wiped his brow with a cloth. “When dear friends are forced into deadly situations week after week, it tends to keep me up at night.”
“Sounds like your friends are more trouble than they’re worth.”
“Not at all.” He stepped toward her, and when the moonlight fell over him, it illuminated the shadows beneath his eyes, the lines of worry about his mouth. “I’d bear a thousand sleepless nights if it meant my friends were safe.”
She had to look away from him, her pulse fluttering in her throat. Being near Audric made her earlier loneliness seem more vast and inescapable than ever.
“Tell me,” she said lightly, “what does it feel like for you? When you work magic.”
His voice was thoughtful. “Like all the pieces of who I am are coming together as they were meant to. Like anything is possible, in that moment, for my focus is that complete and controlled. Like…like a really good stretch.”
Rielle immediately pictured Audric in his bed, unclothed and curls tousled, sleepily stretching that long, lean body in a pool of sunlight.
She licked her dry lips, moved past him. At his nearness, the air crackled and stirred, warming her.
“You do have exceptional control,” she murmured. “Does it ever…break?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
Of course you don’t, she thought irritably. But that wasn’t fair. Just because she was on edge, sleepless, and terrified by the thought of where Corien could have gone and what he was doing and if there were other angels and if he would ever come back to her—that didn’t give her the excuse to direct her anger at Audric.
He had done nothing wrong. He never did.
“You never do anything wrong,” she blurted out, harsher than she’d meant to. So much for not being angry at Audric.
“Well, of course I do,” he said, laughing. “Shall I remind you of a certain forbidden horse race?”
“I don’t mean sneaking out and breaking our parents’ rules. I mean, real wrong things. You’re powerful, and yet do you ever…？ Never mind. Of course you don’t.”
Rielle turned away to sit on the damp ground. “I don’t even know what I’m saying,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around her middle. “I need to sleep, but I can’t. My mind is racing in circles.”
After a moment, she looked up to see Audric settling in the grass at her side. He’d thrown his tunic back on, she noticed with deep regret.
“If you try to explain,” he said gently, “I’ll listen.”
For a long time, she stared at her toes curling in the damp grass. She needed to return to her bed, try for some proper rest. Another day of training with her father and poring over books at the House of Night library with Ludivine in preparation for the next trial. She had an appointment with the Archon in the afternoon. He insisted on regular interviews throughout the trials, during which he inquired as to her health, her state of mind, what she’d been eating and drinking, how she’d been sleeping, what her dreams had been like.
If only you knew, Your Holiness.
Audric placed a warm hand on hers. “Rielle, what is it? Tell me.”
Slowly, she raised her gaze to his. He was so close she could count the thick dark lashes around his eyes, and she had a sudden vision of herself kissing the tender skin beneath them.
“During the metal trial,” she whispered, “when I realized what the Archon had done, that he’d put children in the cage with me”—she swallowed, closed her eyes—“I wanted to hurt him.”