Chapter 25

Ember

I awaken to the full weight of it. There’s no dulling, no buffer, no thin layer of protection. The potion is gone.

The bond tugs hard against my chest urging me to find him, my mate. As my mark burns I grip my shoulder trying to ease the burn, but there is no relief. No amount of pressure or cold water that can dull this now.

The only remedy is to accept Prince Kaine fully—to stop running. If it wouldn’t lead to certain rejection I would. Losing Nara is not worth it.

I pray that Bianca’s presence is enough to distract Prince Kaine for now. I know that I am no longer camouflaged, but if I can stay away from the prince, maybe I can but more time. I have to buy more time.

Nara paces in my mind. She doesn’t speak, but her energy is louder than words. She’s there, awake and waiting.

I make it to Luna training wishing that it was time to learn politics instead of spar. I am distracted and Bianca can tell.

My footing is slow and my strikes lack precision. Bianca doesn’t let it slide. “You’re falling apart, Ember,” she says. “You’re making this too easy.”

I grit my teeth and push through, pretending I’m fine. Pretending the pull isn’t suffocating.

Bianca doesn’t buy it. She circles me, landing a lucky blow against my ribs, right where Robert caught me days ago. I hiss but hold my ground.

“You’re distracted,” she says, stepping back with a little smirk. “Let me guess, Kaine again? Oh sorry, I meant the investigation,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“I’ve seen the way you look at him. He’s mine, and you’re pathetic.”

My fists clench but I say nothing as I begin the next drill. Bianca lets me go, but her gaze lingers like she’s already won something I never agreed to fight for.

After training, I meet with Robert to review security rotations. His eyes watch me as I speak, as if he’s waiting for me to crack. I give him quick answers, my mind distant and my chest still heavy. He starts to say something, but I walk away before he can finish.

The records room feels like the only place where I can breathe. I throw myself into the investigation, combing through the same documents, the same exile records. I’ve already searched them, but I keep looking anyway. It’s the only part of this I can still control.

I trace the gaps in Lady Chantarelle’s family history again. Her father disappeared too neatly. Someone wiped him from the court, from the ledgers, from memory. It’s too clean to be an accident but I can’t see the full picture. I can’t connect the last piece.

Frustration curls tight in my gut. I shove the papers aside and leave for my patrol shift. I need to move. I need something steady under my boots.

The palace halls are quiet as I walk my route, head down, ignoring the pounding in my chest. Every step feels like it pulls me closer to him. The bond hums at the edge of my thoughts, insistent and unrelenting.

It takes everything I have not to go to Prince Kaine. More than once, I catch myself drifting from my patrol route, my feet instinctively moving in the direction of Prince Kaine’s chambers. Nara grumbles every time I realize what I am doing and resume my route.

Near the end of my shift, I pass a group of maids heading out for the evening. They laugh, their voices low as they talk about using the back corridors and the less-guarded exits.

My pulse jumps and a plan begins to form before I can think it through. I maintain my focus for the duration of my parole, unwilling to slip now that I have an idea. My shift comes to an end, and I take off quickly to my room without a hello the moment I see the guard meant to relieve me.

I move quickly, slipping back to my quarters, stripping off my uniform and pulling on plain clothes for the second time this week. No crest. No rank.

I grab my money and nothing else. My time helping the maids has done more than allowed me to make extra coin. It has given me knowledge of hidden entryways.

I quickly slip through the servant passages, my boots silent on the worn stones. I count the turns, the doorways, the side halls until I find the small service door tucked between the storerooms.

The cold hits me as I step outside and I make sure to press close to the palace walls, moving quickly until I reach the delivery gate. I don’t hesitate. I climb the low wall and drop into the street beyond.

The apothecary is still open and I send up a quiet prayer to the goddess as I step inside. I pull my hood low, keeping my voice quiet as I explain why I’m there.

The shopkeeper doesn’t speak. He simply supplies what I need and holds his hand out for payment. I take the vial.

I sigh at the weak version of the potion in my hand. It’s all I can afford. It’s all I have time for.

I retrace my path carefully slipping back into the palace the same way I left. I reach my room, lock the door behind me, and sink to the floor.

I don’t hesitate, drinking the potion in one quick swallow. The bitterness scorches my throat, but I don’t mind this time. This potion is the freedom to make my own choices, at least, for now.

The relief is slow. The edge softens, but the bond doesn’t vanish. It lingers, simmering just beneath the surface.

Nara’s makes her displeasure known as she prowls at the edge of my thoughts, but she quiets as the bond dulls. She’s angry but now that the bond is in affect once again, her pain is diminished the same as my own.

I lean against the bed, taking a deep breath as the potion settles in my blood. It’s not gone. It’s never fully gone. But it’s enough for now.

Tomorrow, I’ll have to face Prince Kaine, to answer his questions about the investigation—to try to win back the trust he was right to relinquish when he caught me sneaking out. I will have to lie with every breath.

I have three months, maybe before I am once again out of time. I don’t know how many more times I can do this, but I have time. Not much, but it has to be enough.