Page 94 of Love & Letter Charms
Ryden dropped onto the stone bench with a sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his being, his elbows on his knees, his head falling into his hands. Either way, she would require time. Time to process what he’d revealed. Time to reconcile the two versions of him that had, until tonight, existed as separate entities in her mind. Time to decide if she could forgive the deception, even if it had been born of desperation rather than malice.
His thoughts drifted to her earlier words about her brother—Kazrian could craft something to keep his magical surges in check. The possibility stirred a complex mixture of gratitude and melancholy in his chest.
If it worked, it meant freedom from the constant threat of uncontrolled power. No more careful distance maintained from others for fear of what his magic might do if provoked. It was a gift beyond measure.
And yet …
Some shamefully selfish part of him had found comfort in the knowledge that Aurelise’s music could soothe his magic. That she alone could bring peace to the chaos that threatened to consume him. It had felt like proof of something larger,something destined—as though the very universe had crafted them to be two halves of a whole.
But that was a dangerous thought, was it not? He did not want her to feel obligated to choose him simply because his magic responded to hers. Did not want her to wonder, years hence, if she’d been forced into a marriage by circumstance rather than choice. If Kazrian’s solution worked, at least that particular burden would be lifted from her shoulders. She could choose freely, without the weight of his magical instability influencing her decision.
“L,” he murmured aloud. Then, softer, “Lise.” And finally, with a tenderness that would have mortified him had anyone been present to witness it, “Aurelise.” A thoroughly besotted smile spread across his face, despite everything.
The confrontation on the terrace had been disastrous, certainly. She’d fled from him as though he were something to be escaped, her music spiraling into chaos around her. But beneath the sting of that rejection lay a profound relief that the truth was finally in the open. No more careful performances, no more measured words designed to reveal just enough while concealing the full truth.
She knew now. She knew everything.
And though the uncertainty of her response was eating at him like acid—would she refuse him entirely? Would she return home and never speak to him again?—he could not suppress the hope that fluttered in his chest like a caged bird. Perhaps, if fortune smiled upon him, she would grant him one more chance. Perhaps he could write to her properly, as both himself and R united in one voice, and find the words to make her understand that they had always been the same person. That every word he’d written had been true, every confession genuine, every declaration of love absolutely real.
Perhaps—
The sound of wingbeats cutting through the night air broke through his reverie. Ryden straightened, looking up to see a midnight-blue pegasus swooping toward the sky garden, silver sparks trailing from its wings.
Cobalt, he realized. Cobalt and Evryn.
The pegasus swooped low over the terrace, and Evryn dropped from the saddle. His boots hit the stone with a solid thud, and he tore off his riding cap, throwing it to the ground as Cobalt glided away into the night.
Ryden rose slowly from the bench, his muscles tensing instinctively.
“Tell me the truth.” Evryn’s voice was deadly quiet, all trace of his usual humor absent. His face was hard as granite in the moonlight, his hands clenched at his sides. “Tell me you did not know it was her.”
A chill shot through Ryden, swift and absolute. Somehow, Evryn had found out.
“Tell me,” Evryn continued, taking a step closer, “that you did not look me in the eye and lie when you spoke of this mystery woman whose identity you supposedly did not know.”
Ryden drew in a careful breath, forcing himself to meet his friend’s furious gaze. “I did not lie.”
“Really?” Disbelief dripped from the word. “You did not know you were writing to mysister? That you?—”
“I did not know!” The words burst from Ryden with more force than he’d intended. “I knownow, yes, and have known for some weeks, but when we spoke that morning—when I confessed to you about the letters—I had no notion that the woman I was writing to and Lady Aurelise were one and the same.”
Evryn released a cry of pure frustration, his hands flying to his hair, tugging at the dark strands as he lurched away. Hisvoice, when it came again, was thick with self-recrimination. “How could I have let this happen?”
“You?” Ryden frowned, confusion momentarily overriding his defensive posture.
“Yes, me!” Evryn spun back to face him, and there was something almost wild in his expression. “I suddenly remembered where I’d encountered such an enchanted letter box before. We were merely perusing an oddities shop in Bloomhaven—Aurelise and I—and she discovered a curious wooden box that promised correspondence with an unknown recipient. And I, in my infinite wisdom—” his voice turned bitter with self-mockery, “—believed the shop owner’s assurance that it was nothing more than a simple trick of magic and purchased it for her. And now here we are.”
He spread his hands wide, the gesture encompassing the terrace, the palace, the entire mess of a situation they now found themselves in.
“All she has ever wanted was a simple, quiet existence. A peaceful life away from the busyness of society and court and—” he gestured sharply at Ryden “—and men like you. And instead she’s wound up trapped at Solstice Hall, while you’ve been toying with her affections, leading her into stars know what manner of impropriety and?—”
“Trapped?Toyingwith her?” The words ignited something hot and dangerous in Ryden’s chest. Yes, he’d convinced Aurelise to embrace a few improprieties—midnight swims and rooftop stargazing and that memorable evening with the driftshade—but he knew precisely what Evryn was implying, and it went beyond innocent mischief. “Is that truly what you believe? That I have been amusing myself at your sister’s expense? Are you still so determined to think so little of me?”
“Yes!” Evryn stalked forward, his jaw tight with fury. “Because all evidence suggests?—”
“Even after I told you that was little more than a public persona? A performance?”
“That was before I discovered it was mysisteron the other end of your correspondence!”
