Page 47 of All the Chaos of Constellations
“Ash…” Cyra frowned, slumping into her seat. “You can’t mean that.”
He tugged at the collar of his shirt. He needed Cyra’s assistance, needed her to keep Lady Novalise far away from Prince Drake’s vicious clutches. “Will you help me or not?”
Resigned, Cyra stood from the table. She held her head high, kept her shoulders pulled back. She looked every inch the lady, with her hands folded neatly in front of her, and her gown of scarlet silk shimmering in the soft glow of morning light. “Yes. I’ll help you.”
She excused herself from the table, retreating from the dining room. Pausing, she grabbed the doorframe and turned to look over her shoulder at him. “It’s not fair, Asher. To either of you. Rejecting the bond to Lady Novalise is no way to live your life, and it’s cruel of you to make her suffer.”
Asher’s jaw clenched, and he held his breath, releasing it slowly until the swell of frustration ebbed away. He could not turn into his father. He would rather die before lifting a hand to a woman or child.
“You know I can’t love her, Cyra.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” She glanced out the curving window of the dining room, her gaze chasing something he couldn’t see. When she looked back at him, sympathy softened her features. But whether it was compassion or pity, there was no way of knowing. “No one chooses to fall in love, just as no one can fully control a bond once it takes form. It’s curious though, is it not? Stars and frostfire…”
Her lips pressed together. “Reminds me of a story you told me long ago. Perhaps you should read it again.”
She turned to leave, and Asher stood.
“Cyra, wait. Where are you going?”
“I’m going to do what you asked of me.” This time her smile was cunning, a devious upturn of her lips. “I’m going to see if Lady Novalise would care to join me for tea. In the garden.”
“Here?” Asher stepped forward and almost tripped over his own feet. “You’re going to invite herhere?”
Cyra shrugged, ignoring his concern. “I can’t think of a safer place, can you?”
His sister slipped out of the dining room then, humming to herself, her lighthearted footsteps carrying her down the hall. Asher continued to stand there, dumbfounded, suddenly regretting his decision to mention anything to her at all.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Novalise stared at the invitation.
The letter was written in gold ink with elegant script flowing across the cream parchment. It was folded neatly in an embossed envelope, but what surprised Novalise more than anything was that it was delivered by a firebird.
The beautiful creature swooped overhead, its stunning crimson feathers glittering like rubies in the afternoon sun. It dropped the letter into her hands, then darted back into the startling blue sky. She gazed up at it from the front entrance of her house, watching as the magical bird flew in and out of ribbons of white clouds.
Breaking the seal, Novalise skimmed the contents.
“What’s that?”
She glanced up to see Sarelle walking down the path from the gardens to greet her.
“Oh, it’s an invitation.” Novalise read it once more, just to be sure.
Sarelle peered over her shoulder, rising on her toes. “To another party?”
“No. Actually, it’s a letter…asking me to come for tea.”
“Tea?” Sarelle leaned back, her midnight hair glittering like onyx, and laughed. “Who invited you to tea?”
Novalise shot her a look, and her sister had the decency to grimace.
“Ihavefriends, Sarelle.” It was a partial truth. The ladies she usually associated with at events and gatherings never called upon her and only seemed to make an appearance in her presence when it was a clear benefit to them.
“Of course you do,” Sarelle amended quickly, ducking her head. Pink colored her cheeks, and she blew out a harsh breath. “I didn’t mean to imply?—”
“It’s okay. I know what you meant.” Novalise tucked Sarelle’s hand into the crook of her arm and guided her back into the house. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re not wrong.”
She held out the invitation for Sarelle to see. “It’s from Lady Cyra Firebane.”
