Page 64 of Song of the Heart Scale
13
CAT
The sky rumbled like a warning.
I was standing in front of the window in Royal Prince Bai's mansion with my fingers pressed to the cold glass when thunder cracked again—louder this time, and closer. The clouds churned, swollen with a storm that refused to break. Not a drop of rain had fallen and yet the air was thick with anticipation, as if the heavens held their breath.
“Come on,” I whispered, scanning the horizon for even the faintest flash of lightning. “Give me one storm. Just one. That’s all I need.”
The portal would only open in the middle of a thunderstorm. A real one. Not this eerie dry thunder that skittered across the sky like the world’s worst tease. It was like waiting for a bus that might never come—if the bus was your one-way ticket out of a fantasy realm with dragons, evil emperors, and way too many people trying to whip or marry you.
And hell, I was tired. Not just physically, but soul-tired. The kind of exhaustion that seeped into your bones and made everything feel just a little too heavy.
The glass fogged from my breath. I pressed my forehead to it, the coolness offering a small relief.
Behind me, slippered footsteps padded across the polished stone floors. Maeve’s familiar presence drew closer, the scent of roasted meat and sweet root vegetables trailing with her.
“My lady,” she said softly, pausing just behind me. “Dinner is ready. You should eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten all day.” Her tone edged toward scolding, motherly and firm, but she didn’t push too hard. Not Maeve. She knew me too well by now.
I slightly turned, just enough to see her in my periphery. She wore a simple house gown and her hair was tied back in a neat braid. Her face was worried, her brows gently furrowed. And still—still—she tried to smile.
“There’s pie,” she added, hopeful. “Jane baked it herself.”
“Unless she baked it with an interdimensional thunderstorm, I’m not interested.”
Maeve sighed and came up beside me, following my gaze through the window. “Is that why you keep watching the sky?” she asked. “You’re waiting for it?”
I nodded. “It’s the only way I can get home.”
She hesitated. “And do you still want to go?”
That made me pause. I glanced at her, surprised. “Of course I do. Don’t you want me to? It’s the only way I can get Arya and send her back here.”
“Of course I do… but…”
“But?” I echoed, my voice trailing off. I looked down at my hands, filled with calluses on my palms from my time in the military and stunt work. “It’s complicated.”
“Because of Prince Damien.”
I smiled wryly. “Is it that obvious?”
She smiled, too. “Only to someone who sees the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you.”
I turned back to the window. “He was supposed to be back by now.”
Maeve shifted beside me, worry tightening the corners of her mouth. “Perhaps the enthronement is taking longer than expected.”
“Or perhaps something went wrong.” My voice came out sharper than I intended.
Maeve reached for my hand and squeezed it. “He’ll come back. You know he will.”
I didn't answer. I wasn’t in the mood for optimism.
Another eerie crack of thunder split the sky.
