Corien hesitated, then moved closer and cupped her cheek. She leaned into his palm, the cool softness of his skin making her shiver.

“Yes,” he murmured, bitterly. “You were a dutiful Sun Queen that day. You served your kingdom well.”

Now he held her face in both hands, his fingers unsteady against her cheeks. He leaned closer, lips hovering above her own. Rielle held her breath, every muscle in her body drawn tight and hot. If she moved an inch, she would kiss him.

“In my kingdom, in my world,” he murmured, his breath hot against her lips, “you would serve no one.”

Rielle placed her hands on his chest, but not to push him away. She stepped into the bend of his body, her eyes blinded with sudden tears—because she was afraid to be so near him, terrified of what she might do, and because his words resonated within her like the first notes of birdsong after a hard winter. As he wrapped his arms around her, she melted into his embrace. She closed her eyes, breathing him in. On the stiff, fine fabric of his coat were traces of the cold winter outside and some kind of spiced oil that reminded her of leather and smoke. He buried his face in her hair with a muffled sigh of her name, and his fingers dug painfully into her shoulders, but the sensation made her blood hum alive, and she found herself wishing for more of it.

Frantic for clarity in this moment she did not understand, she closed her eyes—and with that small movement, the world shifted beneath her.

She faltered, her eyes flying open.

She was on the Kaalvitsi, straddling Audric. Suddenly, his arms were around her instead of Corien’s, his voice was groaning her name.

He sensed her unease at once and steadied her with gentle hands on her hips. “Are you all right, darling?”

She hesitated, breathless and feeling newly vulnerable in his arms. When he reached for her face, she flinched away from him.

He drew back, not quite masking the hurt in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, tears rising fast. Real tears, not creations of Corien’s imagination. Tears she could trust. She wished she could go back to a few moments ago, when she was happy and content in the warm familiarity of Audric’s love and her own desire—and yet she couldn’t. Now, Corien’s voice lingered in her ears, and she welcomed it.

In my kingdom, you would serve no one.

Furious with herself, her skin flushed and crawling, she settled beside Audric and curled against him like a child. He turned on his side to face her, waiting patiently.

Rielle’s chest tightened. She did not deserve him, and she could not meet his eyes. She grabbed his hand, held it to her heart.

“What can I do?” Audric whispered. “What happened?”

She shook her head, unable to speak.

After a still moment, Audric asked, “Was it Corien?”

The question jarred her. Was she that transparent? She finally managed to look at him, fearing disgust on his face. But as he regarded her warmly, with no judgment or anger, the tension she held within her melted away. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her face pressed against his curls.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I couldn’t see anything. I didn’t… I don’t have anything to report. All of a sudden he was there, and I was there, wherever he was, and I was so surprised, I didn’t pay attention. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Please don’t apologize.” Audric cupped the back of her head, his touch so tender it made Rielle ache. She held him like someone lost at sea, clinging to the only steady thing in an ocean of storms.

She spoke against his neck. “I should have paid better attention.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re here now, and safe. That’s all I want.”

A sudden, terrible fear took root in her heart, and she clung even more tightly to him. “Don’t let me go, Audric. Please.”

“Never. I’d never do such a thing. I’m here.” He drew the bed’s quilt over their bodies, creating a warm cocoon.

“I don’t understand what he wants. He speaks in riddles and half truths. He frightens me.”

And that was the truth, but not the entire truth, a fact that made her hate herself—even as part of her balked at that hatred and rejected it, defiant.

In my kingdom, you would serve no one.

Was that such a terrible thing to crave? Was that a desire deserving of hatred?

“I’ve got you,” came Audric’s voice, low and soft. His lips brushed her temple, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on his warmth, his solidness. “Hold on to me. Stay with me.”

Shouted words from the deck above pierced their quiet nest, followed by an echoing cry from Atheria, who had spent much of the last week circling the ship from the air, diving happily for sharks.

Rielle waited for Audric’s translation: “We’ve arrived.”

• • •

From the long white shore, a company of two dozen archers in long gray robes watched their approach, hooded and still. They hadn’t yet raised their weapons, but as Rielle stood on the main deck of the Kaalvitsi, snarls of tension twisted hotly in her shoulders.

Audric came to stand beside her, and Ludivine on her other side—both of them attired, as she was, in fur-lined traveling clothes and heavy woolen cloaks that fastened at their throats with silver clasps in the shape of the legendary Borsvallic ice dragons. Even so dressed, the sea winds cut bitterly.

“The Obex,” Audric said, a thrill of excitement in his voice.

The Obex. The sacred guard, loyal to no kingdom or country, and instead loyal only to the legacy of the saints, to the protection and maintenance of the Gate. Rielle wished, for Audric’s sake, that circumstances were different. He had longed to make the journey to the Sunderlands and meet the Obex guard for as many years as he’d known of their existence.

But inspecting a damaged Gate in danger of falling was surely not the visit he’d always dreamt of.

“We sent word of our arrival,” snapped Ingrid, standing rigidly a few feet in front of them, hands tight around the hilt of her sword. “Why this aggressive stance?”

“Because they guard the Gate,” Ilmaire replied, watching the shore with a wondering gleam in his eyes. “A message means very little to them, even a message from a prince. In their eyes, this could be a trick.” He glanced back at Audric, and a pang twisted Rielle’s heart as she noticed a similar excitement on her beloved’s face. Two bookish, peace-loving princes who could have been true friends—were it not for Ingrid’s warmongering soldiers, whatever evil plagued the Borsvall borderlands, and the long years of ill blood between their kingdoms.