Chapter 67

I keep my head down when I pass Kaine in the hallway. It is impossible to avoid him entirely, but I keep our conversations as brief as I can. I speak only when necessary and only about work.

I don’t look at him unless I have to. I can tell h has noticed, but I have nothing to say to him. He’s made his choices and I’ve made mine.

In meetings, I make sure I sit at the far end of the table. I give him my reports as quickly as I can. If our hands brush when exchanging paperwork, I pull mine away before the contact can register. Kaine tries to carry on as normal, but I can tell he feels the strain. When it’s just the two of us, the silence is almost unbearable.

I can tell he feels, constantly clearing his throat and adjusting the papers in front of him. He’ll start to speak, only to trail off halfway through.

Still, I don’t break my silence. I let him feel it. I can tell Nara is agitated.

She wants me to say something, anything to him about what happened. I know that it wouldn’t make a difference. I’ve learned my lesson.

I try to convince myself that I’m just keeping things professional. I have every right to keep my distance, but the truth is, part of me is still angry.

I’m angry that he didn’t know it was me and angry that he chose her. I’m angry that he doesn’t stop to wonder why I flinch every time he looks at me now.

My head throbs. It’s been hurting on and off all week, but today it’s worse. I press a hand to my temple, just for a moment, then get back to work.

I’m behind on the final review for the east wing security assignments. I need to reapprove gate access for the visiting Alphas and confirm which guards will be posted closest to the royal family during the banquet.

I finish the first two rounds of assignments and go to stand, but the room begins to spin around me. I grip the edge of the table. It passes quickly, but I stay in that position for another minute before testing my balance.

“You should go to the healer,” Nara says. “This is getting worse.”

I’m fine. I don’t have time to be sick.

Although I continue to argue, I can’t deny that it’s not just stress. My limbs feel heavier every day and the nausea is near constant now, starting from the moment I wake up. Some mornings it keeps me from eating.

I keep telling myself I’ll visit the infirmary once the banquet is over. Once that nightmare is over, I can slow down and worry about myself. Until then I have a job to do.

This isn’t the time for weakness.

I pull on my jacket and walk the perimeter of the second floor. I tell myself the movement will help clear my head.

Halfway down the hall, I hear heels clicking against the stone. I look up and see Bianca approaching from the west wing. She’s dressed more elegantly than usual, her hair perfectly curled, her coat trimmed in soft white fur. Her smile is too smooth, too rehearsed.

“Ember,” she says, voice sugary. “You must be exhausted with all this new responsibility. With so many things to manage, I think you’re doing an admirable job.”

I nod once but keep walking, not meeting her gaze. I can’t deal with her right now.

Instead of taking the hint, she shifts to walk beside me, matching my stride. “Still, I imagine it’s hard. There’s so much pressure, and on top of it all, you’re still finding time to sneak around at night.” Her tone remains neutral, but her words dig in like needles beneath the surface.

I stop walking.

Bianca stops, too, then steps in a little closer. Her voice lowers, eyes gleaming. “I’m glad everything is back on track now. No more confusion. Kaine and I are exactly where we should be. It was just a matter of time.”

She stops then, waiting for a reaction. I won’t give her one.

When I don’t respond, her smile fades slightly. “You look pale. I hope I haven’t said anything to upset you.”

“I’m fine,” I say.

“I’m sure you are,” she replies smoothly, then turns and walks away.

I watch her go, fighting the urge to say something I’ll regret. I let my fingernails dig into my palms as I take a moment to steady myself. She knows.

Back in my office, the door slams as I pull it shut behind me. I move to sit in my chair and let my body slump as I rest my forehead against my palm. The room is too quiet.

Nara doesn’t speak, but I can feel her anger boiling under my skin. Bianca knows.

She doesn’t care about Kaine. She never has or she wouldn’t have faked her mark to begin with. But still, the idea that I could’ve been the one with him, even for a night, upsets her place in the palace.

I press both hands against the desk and sit back. I tell myself I won’t let her get under my skin, that none of it matters, but it does.

My chest aches and my mark, usually quieted by the second dose of potion, burns. How am I supposed to convince myself that he means nothing when every time I close my eyes, I feel the way his body leaned into mine, the way his breath caught?

That’s the problem. Even if what I feel is real, it doesn’t matter. He made his choice.

Later that afternoon, Kaine stops by my office with another set of files. His knock is soft, like he’s worried I’ll flee if he’s too loud. I answer without rising from my chair.

He stands just inside the doorway, holding the documents in one hand. His other hand is curled at his side. I notice, but don’t say anything.

“These are the final lists,” he says.

I nod and take them without a word. I flip to the first page, ignoring the way he shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“Is that all?” I ask.

Kaine opens his mouth, hesitates before asking, “How are you holding up? I know a lot has been thrown at you recently.”

I look at him for the first time in days.

“I’m handling it,” I say flatly. “Same as always.”

He blinks. “Right.”

The silence stretches between us for a long moment before I break it. “If there’s nothing else,” I say, nodding toward the door.

He turns to leave without another word.

My hands shake slightly as I drop the file on my desk. One day it will be okay to look at him. One day it will be business as usual.

I try to push down the deep ache he has left in my chest, but it won’t go away. I take a deep breath. I just need to find my new normal.

I reach for my pen and get back to work. There’s too much left to do.