Page 39 of To Wake a Kingdom

After I smoothed the black curls that hung around her face, I moved to my father. His unruly nest of hair had a life of its own, even in sleep. I tucked it under his crown, wishing I could see his eyes. I pressed a kiss to his cheek, touching his face. “I wish you’d wake up,” I whispered. “I miss you so much.”

Normally, the cadence of sleep worked like a balm to soothe my tightly wound nerves—the murmurs and snores, the softly exhaled sighs of peaceful slumber. But tonight, the sounds were less comforting. They reminded me more of the clock that kept ticking, an incessant buzz in my ear winding down with a high-pitched drone.

Feeling no desire to linger, I moved in the kitchen’s direction, the one spot in the castle where I always felt safe now. As I descended the stairs, silent on slippered feet, I heard Em speak.

“Noah, remember those twins we met when we were campaigning in The Red Canyon? They dressed as cooks to sneak into the camp?”

“Remember them?” I heard Noah reply. “I thought I found the gods that night.” There was a burst of laughter.

“What I remember is how eager you were to attack Yagomond’s forces so we could get back to our tents where they were waiting,” Noah said.

“Damn right,” Em replied, and I smiled as I heard the clink of glasses.

Not wanting to disturb their conversation, I turned to head back up the stairs when Noah spoke again. “How about you, Ronan?” I stopped and waited, blood rushing to my ears. “I suppose it’s time to get back to her royalness, the Lady of Elsenmoor, soon?”

Everyone laughed again, and then someone groaned, followed up with another round of laughter.

“She’s not so bad,” I heard Ronan reply.

My legs melted out from under me, brackish sludge bubbling in my gut. Gripping the wall, I backed up the stairs, blocking my ears from overhearing more. Gods, I was such a fool. I’d been making such an ass of myself. No matter what he said, he was a prince and the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Of course, he had someone waiting for him in Estria.

I hated how disappointment filtered into the fractured chinks of my bones. How it burrowed so deep it would take years for me to unearth it. It didn’t matter. Technically, we were enemies. Heirs of rival kingdoms. I had no right to this misplaced emotion.

I killed his father.

And in twenty days, Mare would come for me, and I wasn’t one iota closer to figuring out how to break this curse.

Ronan was leaving the day after tomorrow. This time, I would make sure of it. I’d been throwing myself at a man who could never be mine.

Even if we wanted it, there was no future for us.

Chapter Eighteen

19 days left

Kiannawalkedintomyroom and made a sound of disgust. “What is that?” She pointed at me, her lip curled. I’d donned a simple green dress and pulled my hair back at the nape of my neck. Currently, I was tying up my warmest pair of boots.

“What?” I looked down at myself. “Do I have a stain?”

“You arenotgoing to Valentus dressed like that.”

She pranced to my wardrobe, throwing open the doors.

“What’s the matter with this?” But even as the words left my mouth, I understood. Kianna was stunning in a floor-length gown made of dark green silk, studded with sparkling crystals. Her deep brown skin had been dusted with gold, and even her wings were decorated with iridescent hand-painted stars.

She threw me a withering scowl.

“Kianna,” I said, my hands on my hips. “I am not yours to control anymore.”

The words hit the ground between us, slapping like wet cloth against river rocks. Kianna stopped thumbing through my closet, her posture stiff.

It was an unspoken wedge between us, leaving just enough space to examine it from every incongruent angle. Though we’d grown closer, I hadn’t let go of the misery she and her sisters had caused. Nor the way they had always made me feel like a shriveled grape left too long in the sun.

But I snapped at her too often. Was short with her, even when she didn’t deserve it. I was sure it was why she’d invited Ronan and the others to stay, so she wasn’t stuck here with only me for company. They provided a much-needed buffer against my diluted patience.

“I know, Your Highness.” She was having trouble meeting my eyes, and I dropped my hands. I wanted to bridge the chasm of our severed relationship, and I sensed she wanted the same.

“I suppose you’re right,” I said, finally, wanting to dispel the tension in her back. “This is rather drab.”

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