Page 96 of Hand-Fasting and Other Hazards
Thane gave him a pointed look but didn’t take the bait. “It’s a big deal. I need you there, by my side. The Silver Guard is the kingdom’s elite battalion, sworn to protect its most sacred sites and the royal family. Every five years, we commission a new group of soldiers in a public ceremony. It’s tradition—an important tradition. This year, we need to show the family is strong. United. Like we want the kingdom to be in their support of us.”
Lochlan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “And you want me to do what, exactly?”
“Just be there,” Thane said, his tone pleading. “Stand with me. Smile. Wave. It’ll be fine.”
Lochlan shook his head, his laughter bitter. “You’re asking me to pretend the last eight years didn’t happen? That I wasn’t driven away in the first place?”
Thane stepped closer and put a hand on his shoulder. Lochlan met his earnest gaze, seeing something there he hadn’t expected—Thane didn’t beg. But this was as close as Lochlan had seen him come.
“Please,” Thane said quietly. “Don’t do it for them. I need you there… for me. Because I’m trying to hold this together, and I’m running out of people I can trust. Out of moves. If you’re not by my side, The Dover Coalition—and the public—will take it as another sign of our weakness. They’ll move fast, using any perceived crack in our leadership, our unity, our family, as an excuse to remove any power we have.”
The words hit Lochlan like a punch to the gut. A breath whooshed out of him as his mind churned. “I’ll think about it,” he muttered, his voice rough.
“Don’t think too hard.” Thane gave him a crooked smile before gesturing for Lochlan to follow. They walked in silence through the palace corridors, Thane was quiet, which was good, as Lochlan’s thoughts swirled in a tangled mess.
Drusilla’s fury still rang in his ears. He had expected her resentment, but not the depth of the emotions behind it, the way her grief bled into rage, rage to hate, how she’d blamed him for everything. And then there was Thane—standing between them, trying to bring together what had already and irreparably fallen apart.
When they reached the grand suite, Thane pushed open the doors, gesturing for him to step inside. “Try to get some rest,” he said, gently.
Lochlan didn’t answer. He stepped forward and heard the door click shut behind him. The suite was a masterpiece of opulence: polished wood, shimmering fabrics, and gold accents gleamed in the soft candlelight. But it felt stifling, a gilded cage rather than a retreat.
His gaze landed on the bed.
A sleek cat was curled up in the center of the plush covers, its fur a glossy obsidian. At the sound of his steps, the creature stretched languidly, its collar glinting with a small scroll. It wasn’t like the other delivery cats from Stella Rune—this one was friendlier, purring loudly as it rubbed its head against his hand.
“Are you a better class of delivery beast?” he asked, his tone wry.
The cat chirped in agreement, its tail curling in satisfaction.
“Well, aren’t you full of yourself,” he murmured, gently untying the scroll from its collar.
The note was from Nia. Lochlan sat on the edge of the bed, letting her words sink in.
I know we can text, but I thought you might need a little magic from home.
—N
Lochlan’s chest tightened as he read it again and again.
Warmth spread through him, cutting through the cold detachment of the palace. The cat curled against his side, its presence a small, comforting piece of Stella Rune—of home—in a place that felt as far from that as possible.
CHAPTER 32
Nia
“I’M WORRIED—THERE WAS A DELIVERY BRAWL IN THE TOWN CENTER. HOW WILL I GET MY FOOD?” —MAGICALPOSTMATE45
Nia sat behind her desk at Charis. Afternoon sun streamed through the windows, catching on a dust mote parade, while Jade snored from an old armchair Nia had dragged into the light so the dog could sunbathe.
Her phone buzzed beneath a stack of donation receipts.
Mira
5 minutes out.
Me
I hope you have coffee.
