Page 76 of The War of Wings
But my breath caught in my lungs. My heart jumped into my throat before it stopped altogether as I took in the blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and tall, lithe figure of Larka.
Chapter 30
Petra
Larka’s movements halted, those familiar blue eyes widening in a very unfamiliar way before she dropped into a low curtsy. “Your Majesty,” she murmured.
I watched Larka die with my own two eyes. I’d seen it firsthand. But beyond that, I saw her in Heaven, spoke with her. I knew she was there. But she’d escaped, by some miracle. She’d managed to evade the Occulti and…somehow, some way, find her way back here to the Human Realm. Right?
I stared at the top of her lowered head, reeling at the sight of my sister here in the Human Realm. “Larka,” I choked out, the name mangled by my tightening throat.
She rose slowly, her hands wringing together. “My apologies, your Majesty, but I believe you may have mistaken me for someone else.”
Someone else.It was a punch to the gut. But why? Of course this wasn’t Larka. Larka was locked away in Soren’s castle,waiting for me to figure out how the fuck to get her out. Hearing this stranger tell me she was just that — a stranger — shouldn’t have hurt. But still my eyes stung, my cheeks reddening with the effort to hold back disappointed tears.
“Right,” I breathed before I let the silence drift on too long. I was dizzy as I stared at this woman who looked so much like my sister. “You just…look like someone very important to me.”
The woman gave a polite smile, sympathy in her eyes, which proved to me she was definitely not my sister. “My apologies,” she repeated quietly.
I nodded in thanks, trying to compose myself as I took an awkward step backward. I needed to leave before I scared this poor woman by staring at her like she was a ghost. But I had to ask. “What is your name?”
“My name is–” She gasped quietly, her posture straightening, those eyes that were so much like Larka’s flickering to Miles as he suddenly appeared at my side. He leaned in, taking a breath as if to say something to me, but then he froze, too.
His breath hitched, his spine suddenly painfully straight. “Cielle.”
Cielle.Cielle.The woman he’d told me about. The woman he’d loved.
Oh shit.
Silence had fallen over the two of them, their expressions unchanged as they stared at each other in utter shock. Suddenly I was a bystander. They were like two figures in a painting and I was simply strolling by where it hung on the wall, like they’d been captured in this moment and I was on a simple onlooker. A part of me wanted to slip into the background, leave the two of them to whatever the hell was happening between them right now. But the greater part of me was questioning why this woman looked so much like Larka.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice too cool, too even.
Cielle remained quiet for a moment, the shock still showing her features. Finally, she cleared her throat, snapping back into her body. “Queen Irli asked the Royal Orchestra of Tadrana to play during the ball, and I…” She gestured weakly toward the harp I hadn’t noticed was standing beside her. The wood was scratched and dinged, its polish long since worn away. I would’ve expected a harpist in the Royal Orchestra to have a finer instrument, but something about the way Miles’ eyes moved between the harp and Cielle told me I was missing something.
“You play the harp,” Miles said quietly, hand flexing on the pommel of his sword.
Her delicate chin dipped slightly. “I do.”
“That’s…good,” Miles managed to say, and the cool, collected mask he’d donned was gone just like that. “That’s very good. I’m glad to hear that. See that, rather. I didn’t hear you play. Well, I heard you play, but the rest of the orchestra was playing, so–”
Cal appeared at my side, cutting Miles’ rambling short, thank the fucking Saints. “Everything is arranged for the meeting tomorrow,” Cal said, giving Cielle a curt nod before turning to me. But his eyes snapped back to the woman standing with us.
“This is my brother, King Belin,” Miles said, his words far too quick.
Cielle’s blue eyes widened for a moment as she took in Cal, and I could almost see the moment she made the connection. “Cielle Andyr,” she said, lowering into a curtsy once again. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”
Cal’s expression was the picture of shock. I wanted to elbow him in the ribs and tell him to keep his fucking cool, but he quickly found his composure again. “Hello, Miss Cielle,” he said with a nod.
“Queen Cielle,” Miles corrected, his words even quicker now, his eyes locked on Cielle’s face. “Queen Cielle of Zidderune, yes?”
Cielle’s lips pursed before she offered a weak smile. “Just Cielle,” she answered, avoiding Miles’ gaze as she looked back at Cal.
Every muscle in Miles’ body tensed. This was a side of Miles I’d never seen before. He was visibly nervous, suddenly shifting back and forth on his feet. But who was Cielle? Why did she look like Larka? And what kind of hold did she have over Miles that broke straight through that rough exterior to turn him to a rambling puddle of a man?
“Forgive me,” Cal started, speaking to me but staring at Cielle, “but does she look like–”
“Larka,” I finished for him. “She looks exactly like Larka. So much so, I thought shewasLarka.”
