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She was sick of my foul mood, just as I was frustrated by her apparent freedom. I wished I could circle the skies all day.

Still, the morning was young, and the temperature was already rising. It was working up to being a scorcher, and despite my dove-like skin’s aversion, I had always loved the heat of Tanmer. The walk, combined with the fearful nods of passersby, grounded me. I was a Prince of Droundhaven. I could not be ruled by a fickle emotion or driven so easily to rage. It was my duty to be neutral and fair.

Though, when I crossed back into the marble constraints of the castle, I felt the weight of the stones, the weight of expectation, the bonds of my birth shackling me.

I weaved through the main hall and up two flights of stairs. I exited out into the southern gardens, in hopes of finding Princess Derynallis. Instead, I found her son. He studied a crop of medicinal plants, his white hair falling over his face as he knelt in utter concentration.

“Cousin.” I could not help but smile at the way he straightened instantly, his perfect composure momentarily broken as he whipped his neck to look up at me. I folded my arms. “Did you have a hand in this, then?”

Septillis blocked the sun with one arm as he righted himself onto his feet and bowed. “Welcome back, Your Grace.”

I scanned the plant at his feet and realised this was one of the very few I could name. Domil, used for drowsiness. Had he been having trouble sleeping? It would not surprise me, given the very large secret he was hiding from my father about a certain guest’s identity. “Your mother has taken it upon herself to repost my men. Where is she?”

His enviable mask was back. “If you mean Foxlin, then I must admit the action was my own.”

I narrowed my eyes on him. Septillis had done this?Septillishad ordered my own man? He who exercised such droll fucking caution in all things, acting like a serpent the moment I turned my back? Part of me respected it.

“There was a matter for which I believed he would be well suited, and when I heard he was not accompanying you to the Vidarium, I thought it would be no problem.” He bowed again, ever the picture of an obsequious helper. “I apologise for any inconvenience.”

“What matter?”

Septillis paused, then he met my eyes truly. “I posted him at Vorska's door. Wainstrill was needed at Unger Lift after all.”

He had posted Foxlin outside Tanidwen’s door? Why? Something in his white eyes, something about his whole manner, was off. “What happened?”

“The lady was taken ill. I thought it best we keep everyone out until we know if it could spread. I thought Foxlin would be adept enough to keep any guests away.”

“She’s ill?” Iasked.

“She appears to be on the mend now, but it’s best everyone keep their distance.”

Oh.Oh.

So, that was the play. And he was completely in on it. She must have left already, yesterday hopefully, and this whole ruse with Foxlin was merely to keep Wainstrill from discovering her sickness was really nothing at all. She was long gone, and he had bought her days of time.

Ever the loyal Brother. Choosing his Eavenfold kin over his own.

It was clever. Truly clever. As much as I resented his betrayal, if he had warned me of it, I would have aided him.

Instead, I only sighed. “I know you fool my father, Septillis, but you do not fool me.”

He stiffened. “Your Grace.”

I saw it in his eyes then, the love he had for her. The same love I’d seen there back on Eavenfold. “Edrin’s watch, you haven’t changed a bit,” I said. “Still as moony-eyed as ever.”

Septillis flinched. “I do not—”

I took a step forwards, close enough that I could see every fine hair on his cheek, and he stopped talking. “Never repost my men again.”

Septillis only breathed through his nose, unmoving. “As you say, Your Grace.”

Then I turned on my heel and headed back up the stairs. The tiny garden looked less magical in this light. I had reimagined my visit here so many times, wishing I had kissed the girl that night, or concocted an excuse to stay longer. I thought of her, a leaf stuck to her braid as she held out the tome of our history.

By Edrin, she was beautiful. And now, she was gone.

If she was lucky, she would never see any of us again. I mourned that reality, stepping around the pillars, not wishing to rewrite my last time here with her with this new absence.

Foxlin leaned against the wall as I moved around the final pillar.