“Go back to sleep, na’laa.” He tugged the sheet up over my arm. His touch lingered at my shoulder. “Till later.”
“Till later,” I whispered hoarsely.
Prince Thorne stood, and though he moved so quietly, I knew the exact moment he’d left the chamber. I opened damp eyes.
Do you like him?
That was what Grady had asked.
Gods.
I thought I did.
I found Claude in his study that afternoon, alone as he sat behind his desk. He looked up as I entered, his smile a little off.
“Do you have a moment?” I asked.
“Always for you.” He folded a piece of parchment and set it aside. I glanced at the ever-increasing stack of letters. “I’m glad you’ve come by. I’ve been wondering if the arrangement between you and the Prince has fared well or if you’re glad for the momentary reprieve.”
My cheeks warmed as I thought of last night. “Surprisingly well.”
“I can see,” he chuckled, leaning back as he crossed one leg over the other. “So, you’re not so against this arrangement now?”
I lifted a shoulder, having not come to talk about the Prince. I sat in one of the chairs before his desk. “He told me that you were with the people of Archwood yesterday.”
“I was.” He brushed a lock of dark hair back from his face, his pale cheeks turning pink. “I thought it would be wise that I see what is being done. That I be seen.” He cleared his throat. “I was there this morning for a little bit.”
“I think it’s a good idea.” I smiled at him. “Hopefully it will inspire others to take part.”
“Hopefully,” he murmured, lowering a hand to the arm of his chair. “We shall see, I suppose.”
I nodded, taking a deep breath. “I actually had something I wanted to talk to you about.” I twisted my fingers together, unsure of why I was so nervous. Actually, that wasn’t true. I was worried I was going to prove myself a naive fool today. “It’s about your other cousin.”
“Is it?” He glanced at the closed door.
I opened my senses, letting that connection forge between us. I saw the gray wall. “Does he . . . does he have abilities like me?”
His brows knitted as his head tilted. “Are you trying to read me, Lis?”
I stiffened. “Can you tell?”
He laughed roughly. “Only because I’ve known you long enough to recognize when you’re reading someone. Your stare becomes rather intense and you don’t blink.”
“Oh.” I squirmed a little in my chair.
“He does,” he answered.
I stopped fidgeting. Everything stopped.
“That’s how I knew what you said when we first met could be true. He had the same knack for knowing. He had other . . . knacks.” His shoulders rose with a deep breath. “And if you’re wondering why I didn’t tell you, it was because by the time I met you, Vayne was already committing acts of treason. I thought that if I told you that there was another like you, you would want to meet them, and meeting him would endanger you.”
I was still connected to him, and his thoughts reflected what he said, but he knew I was in his mind. Hearing thoughts didn’t mean I couldn’t be fooled. “Then you know what I . . . I am?” I whispered.
He stared at me, brow furrowing. “Did the Prince tell you something?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t understand— ”
“Am I a caelestia?” I interrupted.
He blinked rapidly. A moment passed. “I don’t know.”
“Claude.” I leaned forward, fingers pressing into the knees of my tights. “Have you known this whole time that I wasn’t really mortal?”
“Caelestias are mortal too, Lis. We just have stronger blood. That is all,” he said.
Except caelestias weren’t treated like lowborn. “Have you known?”
He held my stare, then looked away. “At first, I . . . I suspected that you were.”
An ache pierced my chest as I sucked in a breath that went nowhere. “And you never told me? Why wouldn’t you— ”
“Because I’m not sure what you are,” he cut in. “And I speak the truth. You don’t bear the mark.”
I frowned. “What mark?”
“Your eyes. They’re brown. A beautiful shade of brown,” he added quickly. “But all caelestias have eyes like mine. Some are different in other ways.” He looked away. “But you don’t bear the telltale trait of a caelestia.”