Finn, or one of his people, put wards around their wing of the castle, but I slip through them like water through the cracks of a mountain. I hide in the shadows, let myself be one with the darkness, and slink noiselessly toward the sound of their voices.
Pretha and Finn are on one of the castle’s many terraces. Finn’s arms are braced on the railing, a wineglass cupped loosely in one hand, while Pretha paces behind him.
“—missing something important,” Finn’s saying. “It just doesn’t add up, but I’ll be damned if I let fear keep me from finding the answers we need.”
“There has to be another way.” Pretha rubs the center of her chest with her palm. “Who else might have a solution?”
“No one.” His voice is calm, almost lazy, but I feel his worry. It’s a vibration that roils just under the surface of this inexplicable connection between us. “There’s no one else, Pretha. I’m doing this.”
Pretha summons a bottle of wine and pours herself a healthy serving. The dark, velvety red liquid seems to gobble up light. She drains half the glass in one pull and immediately refills it. “What about your responsibility to your people? We’ve protected you for twenty years so you could lead them, and now—”
“Now that’s off the table. I’m not the one wearing the crown, so we need to find another way to protect them.” With a sigh, he turns to her. “I don’t have a choice. It’s not like I’m looking forward to taking her back to him. He’ll have her eating out of his hand in no time.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Pretha takes another sip of her wine. “What if Mab says the only way to do this is for Brie to forfeit her life and let Sebastian rule?”
“There has to be another way,” he says, but he seems to be talking to himself.
“Why do I think you’re more opposed to Brie’s death than to seeing Sebastian on the throne?”
He cups his forehead in one big hand and squeezes his temples. “The last thing we need right now is my ego getting between us and the cure for my dying court.”
Pretha blows out a breath. “We’ll find a way. I have to believe it.”
Turning, he lounges against the rail and studies his sister-in-law. “How are you doing with all this?”
“The pending destruction of our entire realm?” she says, her eyebrows inching up. She hoists her glass in the air. “Oh, just great.”
Finn shakes his head. “This is the first time you’ve stayed at Castle Craige since your parents sent you away. How does it feel to be home?”
My heart sinks. Pretha’s such an assertive, capable member of Finn’s team. It’s easy to forget that she was once a girl in love with her brother’s betrothed.
“It’s . . . fine. Good. It’s good.” Her expression goes distant as she looks out at the sprawling valley beyond the terrace. “I miss this place, but I didn’t realize how much until we stepped foot in the palace.” She bites her bottom lip, and her big brown eyes brim with tears. “I have a lot of happy memories here.”
Finn reaches for her wrist and squeezes. My heart tugs at the rare sign of physical affection from the shadow prince, but at the same time an uncomfortable feeling wraps around my heart. Jealousy, I realize. I’ve been jealous of Pretha’s relationship with Finn from the day I met him. At first, because I thought they had a romantic relationship, but now because of their connection. They have each other to lean on. I’ve been so lonely since running from Sebastian. I have all these people around me who claim to want to be my friend, but how can I trust them when they care more about this power than they’ll ever care for me?
If I could shed this power like an unwanted cloak, would any of them care about me? Would I even have a place to stay or would I still be running?
“Your brother and Amira’s relationship isn’t a romantic one,” Finn says, releasing Pretha’s wrist.
“Rumor has it that he’s trying to impregnate one of his consorts to carry on the family line.”
Pretha scoffs. “I’m pretty sure he’s been trying that since he came of age.”
Finn grunts and flashes a rare grin. “I knew Misha back then, and I hate to break it to you, but he wasn’t after an heir when he took all those females to his bed.”
“Trust me. I’ve heard the rumors.” Chuckling, Pretha studies her wine. “Brace yourself. I think he has his sights set on Brie now.”