Page 26 of All the Chaos of Constellations
“Y-yes.” Novalise nodded, ducking her head. “Of course.”
“Come along then, darling sister.” Solarius led her away from Ariesian and Prince Drake, both of whom had once again resumed their hostile staring contest. “Let us leave this tedious social gathering and find our own pursuits.”
With her head held high, Novalise walked with Solarius toward one of the waiting carriages. The Eponians stomped the soft grass, as though they too were annoyed by the whole ordeal. But an unwanted feeling of apprehension continued to poke at the back of her mind, needling itself deeper. She could only hope that Ariesian knew what he was doing, and that it was for the benefit of House Celestine, and not just himself.
CHAPTERTEN
“You can’t hide in your study for all of Midsummer, Asher.” Cyra’s voice carried through the door, incessant and tinged with annoyance. She would rap the hardwood three times, then call his name, repeating the process as though he didn’t hear her the first time.
“I’m not hiding.”
In fact, he was doing quite the opposite. Solace within his study granted him a peace of mind, and it was a welcome distraction. A reprieve from the societal norms. Surrounded by books, spending hours reading and dissecting magical histories helped him make sense of the world. Not only that, but losing himself in the archaic helped to keep a certain female fae from clouding the forefront of his mind. Here, he was safe to dwell in his solitude. Faerie fire lights sparked to life in their stained glass enclosures along the wall and filled the space with a cool, silver glow.
Asher leaned back, and the leather chair groaned beneath his weight. He adjusted his black-framed spectacles—they’d been a gift from Cyra. She picked them up at one of the shops in Terensel. The lenses were forged from crystal dust, and coated with a fine layer of magic that assisted with deciphering runes. Stretching, he motioned toward his wall of ebony bookshelves, and the pile of books on the desk in front of him returned to their proper places among the shelves.
“Youarehiding,” Cyra insisted through the door. She rattled the knob with the impatience of a child. “It’s been two days since Queen Elowyn lifted the Veil and I’ve scarcely seen you.”
Asher made a noise of disbelief.
Two days, and Drake Kalstrand had yet to pay him a visit. It was only a matter of time until the shadow prince came knocking on his door, ready to demand the terms of Asher’s repayment. Terms that he’d spent the last two years mulling over in his mind. He knew what Drake would require of him, and it wasn’t as though Asher had been wasting his time since he last saw the prince. No, he’d been scouring books and poring over notes, researching as much as possible about the powerful gemstone Drake sought, including its potential whereabouts.
“I would’ve thought you dead were if not for the lingering scent of your magic,” Cyra grumbled, her words echoing in the hall outside of his study.
“Not dead either,” Asher called back.
“Would you please open the door?” His sister huffed in exasperation. “I feel like we’re children again and you’ve locked me out of your bedroom to keep me from coloring inside one of your favorite books.”
At this, Asher chuckled.
He’d been furious at the time. The book was a thoroughly detailed collection of wars through the ages with inked drawings and maps. Cyra had colored red hearts over half the continents and seen fit to give everyone purple crowns. At least now he could look back on it with a shred of humor.
“Fine.” He waved his hand toward the door, and it unlocked. “Enter if you must.”
Cyra waltzed into the room and posed, planting one hand on her hip and lifting her chin to a stubborn angle. Her fiery hair fell over one shoulder. “Well?”
He studied her. “Well what?”
“What do you think?” This time she did a small twirl, spinning once.
“I think about a great many things, as is my nature.”
Her brows drew together and the scent of golden amber, apple blossom, and creamy sandalwood filled the air. “Of my dress, Asher.”
He gathered up the papers on his desk and shuffled them together, sparing her a brief glance. “It’s lovely.”
“You didn’t even notice, did you?”
There was pain in her voice. Raw hurt.
He looked up sharply.
“It was Mother’s. I found it in her closet, and Lilith helped me make a few small changes for a better fit.” Cyra fiddled with the edges of the scarlet gown trimmed with topaz and onyx.
Asher stood, coming around his desk for a better view. He hated that he had upset her and silently cursed himself for not making more of an effort. Cyra was the only family he had left, and she deserved better than he’d given her as of late.
“It’s the dress she wore the night she met Father.” His sister’s voice was softer now, yet each word weighed heavily upon his heart.
“You look so much like her,” he murmured, noticing the way Cyra’s eyes were suddenly glassy. She blinked rapidly, holding her emotions in check. “Sometimes the memory of her beauty escapes me, until I see you.”
