Page 85 of Thorn Season
That in whatever space existed between me and Keil, the air was charging to ignite.
So, I looked away. Then I paused, detecting a gleam in Keil’s hand. Over the railing, he fiddled with a small, diamond-shaped slat of glass—sometimes twirling it between his fingers, sometimes taking it up with his specter, making it appear as though floating.
It reminded me of how I twirled my mother’s coin—thoughperhaps a sharper, more dangerous version.
“Dayglass,” Keil said, noticing my attention. “Ansoran lands are rich with it.”
“Your lands are rich with broken glass?” I asked dryly. “How painful that must be for your feet.”
“Not glass.” He smiled. “Dayglass.” Then he drew back, raised the shard, and whacked it against the railing.
I gasped, instinctively recoiling from the shatter.
But there was no shatter. The glass remained whole and glossy, without even a scratch.
At my expression, Keil’s smile turned mischievous. He offered me the shard. “It’s as strong as diamond. Under sunlight, it glows as if a rainbow has been captured within.”
I couldn’t resist pushing off the railing and taking the dayglass for a closer look.
The shard was warm from Keil’s touch, the edges softer than I’d realized—filed for safe handling—but it otherwise felt like any other glass fragment.
“Keep it,” said Keil. “View it in sunlight for yourself. Though I ask that you don’t show it to your king.”
I quirked a brow. “Erik’s interested in dayglass?”
“Most kingdoms are. But my empress doesn’t desire a trade deal yet.”
Yet.
She might then use this valuable material as a bargaining tool—just as she would likely use the compass. For herownbenefit, rather than for the protection of fellow Wielders.
Keil slipped his hands into his pockets, head tilting. “It would be best if Erik remained unaware of this sample. One taste of pleasure usually begets an appetite.”
I glanced back at the dayglass, now frowning slightly. “You would trust me with this?”
Keil laughed under his breath. “You sound surprised, my lady. Do you forget that every minute I spend at court is a product of my trust in you?”
My frown deepened. I could’ve exposed Keil as a kidnapper several times over by now. But my silence had nothing to do with trust.
“You still owe me a favor, Ambassador. I’m unlikely to reveal your secrets until I recover the debt.”
“Until?”Keil ambled closer, amusement teasing around his mouth. “And after my debt is settled, would you go back on your word? Reveal me after all?”
I could, I wanted to say.Because you’re here for the compass, just like I am. We both know we’re waging a silent battle. And neither of us is going to let the other win.
Instead, I placed the dayglass on the railing. This game of flirtation was one thing, but I didn’t want the burden of Keil’s trust. Not when I might have to break it.
“Court is filled with charming vipers,” I said, chin lifted. “But we are vipers all the same.”
Keil stopped two paces away. The playful light in his eyes softened. “I saw your face at the exchange,” he said quietly. “When you realized what was inside that wagon.”
I winced at the memory of my kidnapping—the horror in realizing Keil had traded my freedom for the Capewells’ Wielder prisoners.
“I know vipers,” he said, still earnest. “You, Lady Alissa, are no viper.”
The dayglass lifted from the railing, glistering with a sheen of starlight, and slid into my pocket.
As the pressure of Keil’s specter trailed against me, withdrawing, I raised my hand to find it—grasping, as I had that night on the Verenian fields.
