He turned to face Aric, and his expression was grave now. "The Council of War. We will meet with leaders from our allied realms to devise a strategy for ending this conflict once and for all."

  A chill ran through Aric at the ominous weight in Valerian's words. "And what role do you envision for me in all of this?"

  Valerian's gaze sharpened, and he stepped closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I intend for you to be at my side, Aric. I have seen what you are capable of—both your magical prowess and your understanding of the enemy we face." His eyes gleamed with ambition. "The mages of Astaria have long been overshadowed by the Pureblade Order in matters of war. It is time that changed."

  Aric studied Valerian's face, sensing the layers of calculation beneath the carefully cultivated facade. Whatever Valerian's true intentions, he was clearly intent on shaking up the delicate balance of power that had defined Astarian politics for generations.

  "I will do whatever is necessary," Aric said finally, the words feeling like both a vow and a warning.

  This time, no warmth graced Valerian’s smile. "I have no doubt you will."

  They had reached the outskirts of a district cloaked in thick fog and odd smells—an oily tang, like metal and ashes, that pricked at the back of Aric's throat. Valerian paused before an imposing gate flanked by hooded statues, their faces obscured beneath cowls. Aric realized abruptly that this was the area in the city where he’d seen the damage that almost looked like an assault had taken place. On closer inspection now, though, it became apparent that the warping was haphazard. Almost accidental. Not the work of an invading force, it seemed, but something less predictable.

  He frowned, reminding himself to ask Olaya about her comment later.

  "The Iron District," Valerian said, his voice carrying a note of reverence. "The center of our research and development endeavors. From here, our most ambitious projects are forged."

  Aric glanced at him sideways, studying his expression. If this district housed the city's armories and forges, then what new weapons were they creating to combat the demon threat?

  Or worse—what were they trying to harness?

  But Valerian simply smiled at him—a smile full of secrets as vast as the city itself—and gestured for Aric to follow him inside.

  As they entered the gate, Aric felt a peculiar tingle across his skin—a faint buzzing, like static electricity. He suppressed a shiver as they passed through shadowy corridors lined with doors. Behind each one, he could sense the muffled thrum of magic at work.

  This was no ordinary mages' workshop.

  One chamber door was cracked open, and Aric slowed his pace as they approached it. Inside, he caught sight of complex arrays drawn on the floor in chalk—circles within circles of intricate runes—and glowing crystals suspended from the ceiling beams.

  "What is this?" Aric asked, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

  Valerian stopped beside him, gazing into the chamber with unconcealed admiration. "A glimpse into what we could achieve. So much lost over these past centuries, lost to fear." He turned those penetrating eyes on Aric again; eyes that saw too much.

  "I'm trying to change that."

  Aric's pulse quickened under his scrutiny. As he'd feared. Had Valerian seen Aric's journal? Did he know about Aric's forbidden research into demonic magic?

  He held Valerian's stare though—steadfast and unyielding.

  If they wanted a witch hunt⁠—

  "They have surpassed my wildest imaginings," Valerian continued, undaunted by Aric's sudden steeling. "Our potential is limitless when we cease shackling ourselves. To choose a brighter future for Astaria." His words were tinged with the fever of the righteous now—the same tone he had used when addressing the council earlier that night.

  "And that is what we need you for."

  Aric ventured, "I don't suppose you could show me more? Let me see what's really going on down here?" He infused his voice with a playful note, hoping to pry some truth loose.

  Valerian's turned away from Aric, gesturing for them to move on. "I'm afraid such matters are of the highest sensitivity. Not even the Silver Tower has been made fully aware of our endeavors here." His tone was polite but carried a cool edge of warning. "For now, I must ask you to trust that we have only the kingdom's best interests at heart."

  Aric fell silent, his frustration mounting. He'd hoped to learn more about Valerian's true goals on this walk through Astaria, but the regent was proving maddeningly elusive. Whatever lay behind the district's gates was clearly of grave importance, and Valerian had no intention of revealing it anytime soon.

  Still, Aric could not shake the feeling that he was being led into a trap—one as elaborate and intricate as the magical wards he'd spent his life studying.

  As they turned back toward the city center, Valerian's demeanor softened, the hard edge of anger giving way to a more thoughtful expression. "I should like to discuss your role in tomorrow's strategy meeting," he said. "I have high hopes for what you might contribute."

  Aric swallowed hard, his heart skipping a beat. "My role, my lord?"

  Valerian smiled, and it was a smile full of promise. "You've been in the field. You've faced the enemy firsthand. Your insights could be invaluable as we plan our next moves."

  Aric nodded slowly, trying to keep his thoughts from racing ahead. He'd always wanted to play a larger role in Astaria's defense—but he'd never imagined it would come about like this. Was Valerian truly interested in his ideas, or was he merely hoping to use Aric's experiences as leverage in his own political games?

  "You've spent years on the front lines," Valerian continued. "But I think you're capable of much more than that. With your talents and your knowledge, you could help shape the very future of our kingdom."

  Aric took a deep breath, willing his racing heart to calm down. It was tempting—so very tempting—to believe Valerian's words, to let himself be drawn into this new web of intrigue and ambition. But he couldn't forget the secrets he still held, the truth he still sought. He had to be careful; had to keep his true goals close to his chest.

  "I'll do whatever I can to help," Aric said finally, choosing his words with care.

  Valerian's hand brushed against his again—a touch full of promise—and Aric felt a shiver run up his spine despite himself. "Good," Valerian said softly. "I knew I could count on you."

  They finished their walk at a scenic overlook, the city of Astaria spread out before them like a living tapestry. Valerian stood close, their shoulders almost touching as they admired the view.

  "I have big plans for this city, Aric. I want to usher in a new era of prosperity and peace, free from the shadow of war." His voice was fervent now, his eyes distant as if envisioning that future even now. "With your help, I believe we can make that dream a reality."

  Aric felt a weight settle in his chest—a mix of awe and apprehension at the task laid before him. He had come here seeking answers about the anomaly, but it seemed he had stumbled into something far greater than he could have imagined.

  As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the cityscape, Valerian turned to face him once more. "I will send word with details about tomorrow's ball and our strategy meeting." His hand lingered on Aric's arm. "For now, rest well and know that you are safe here."

  Safe. Such a subjective word.

  Aric couldn't help but wonder if all he'd really done was escape one cage, only to fall into another trap.

  Twelve

  As Aric entered the grand ballroom of the Regalia Palace, the sheer opulence of the setting nearly took his breath away. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the marble floors, while sweeping curtains of gold and crimson framed the enormous stained glass windows that looked out over Astaria. The walls were adorned with tapestries and paintings depicting legendary battles and mythical beasts—though none could rival the fierce beauty he had glimpsed firsthand in the demon realm.

  He was painfully aware of the eyes upon him as he moved further inside—noble ladies in glittering gowns, lords with polished armor glinting under the lights, mage scholars sporting embroidered robes that matched their guilds' colors. All were caught up in a whirlwind of movement and music and power.

  "Did you hear?" one of the guests was saying to her companion. "They say the king's health is failing faster than we thought."

  Aric's stomach tightened at this revelation, but there was no time to dwell on it as another voice joined the fray:

  "They say Lord Regent Valerian has his own plans in motion. Rumors about alliances with mages from beyond our borders⁠—"

  Aric ground his teeth together as he adjusted his cravat once more, his formal attire suddenly feeling too tight. He couldn't let their idle gossip distract him now; he needed to focus on his own mission for the evening.

  He found a quiet corner near one of the banquet tables and surveyed the room from there, forcing himself to ignore both the sumptuous feast laid out before him—more food than most saw in months, with endless possibilities for seasoning if not spice—and those unnerving whispers that seemed to follow him everywhere he went.

  But most of all, he tried not to think about Valerian—his impassioned voice calling for change, for progress and innovation⁠—

  His closeness in that starlit stroll across Astaria's bridges—each touch burning more than golden flames ever had.

  "Lord Regent." The other nobles lowered their heads in deference. "Will you join us for this next dance?"

  Valerian's piercing blue eyes swept over the group, assessing, before settling on Aric.

  "Actually, if you don't mind, I would ask Solarian here to join me for a waltz."

  The air seemed to still at Valerian's words. Aric's heart thudded in his chest. He caught a glimpse of Cyrus's eyes narrowing as he realized Valerian had turned from him, that smug leer twisting into a snarl before he turned away.

  "I—yes, of course."

  Valerian took Aric's arm, leading him toward the center of the dance floor. Even through his gloves, Aric felt the heat of Valerian's touch.

  The music shifted into a waltz, and they began to move together, Valerian's hand firm on Aric's waist, his other holding Aric's in a grasp that was more than guiding.

  "You look very handsome tonight," Valerian said in a low voice meant only for Aric.

  Aric's cheeks heated. "Thank you, my lord."

  They moved in time with the music, Valerian leading them across the floor with a grace that spoke of countless evenings like this one.

  "You've caused quite a stir since your return," Valerian said. "I've heard many whispers about you."

  "I imagine not all of them favorable."

  "Perhaps not. But the court loves nothing more than an enigma." Valerian's eyes locked onto Aric's, an intensity in his eyes that made Aric's breath catch. "And you are certainly that."

  Aric fought to hold his composure as they turned and swirled with the other dancers. The scent of Valerian—some kind of sandalwood cologne—was intoxicatingly close.

  "What is it you wish to know, my lord?" Aric asked carefully.

  "Oh, so many things." Valerian smiled, though it didn't reach those too-perceptive eyes. "But let us start with your thoughts on our current political situation."

  "I would hardly presume to advise you on such matters⁠—"

  "But I am asking." His fingers squeezed Aric's hand with surprising force. "As one outsider to another. I find myself in need of fresh perspectives these days."

  Aric nodded slowly. "I think...there are many threats to our stability that must be addressed," he said cautiously. "Both internal and external."

  "Indeed." They twirled again, and Valerian's hand slipped lower on Aric's back before returning to its proper position. "I've heard worrying rumors about certain factions gaining influence within our ranks."

  "The Pureblades have their own agenda," Aric agreed, unable to fully hide his distaste.

  "And what would your agenda be, Solarian?" Valerian leaned closer as they dipped together in perfect sync with the music.

  Aric swallowed hard. "To protect our realm from all threats. No matter where they might come from."

  "A noble goal." Valerian pulled him back upright, and their eyes met once more. "I share it as well—though I find our methods may differ."

  The song began to wind down, the final notes stretching out between them like a taut wire.

  "Tell me," Valerian said softly. "Have you given any thought to my proposition? About joining me in my...research?"

  Aric hesitated as the last chord hummed in the air around them.

  "I fear my answer may disappoint you, my lord."

  He braced himself for anger or scorn—but instead, Valerian only smiled.

  "On the contrary." Valerian lifted Aric's gloved hand to his lips with gallant deference. "You continue to intrigue me all the more."

  As the dance with Valerian ended, Aric's eyes were drawn to Ruta and Olaya in a secluded alcove, the two of them standing far closer than mere friends might.

  Olaya's hand rested lightly on Ruta's arm, her head tilted as she listened to whatever Ruta was saying with a soft smile. Ruta glanced up at her with an expression Aric had only seen when the other mages in their group spoke of their hometowns, or when recounting their own stories of battle victories—but never like this. Something deep and warm and far more intimate.

  Aric's heart lifted for her.

  He hesitated for a moment longer before approaching them, unsure if he should intrude. But Olaya caught his eye and gave him a barely perceptible nod, and Ruta turned toward him with a warm smile.

  "Aric!" Ruta greeted him, stepping away from Olaya just slightly. "You look as though you've been enjoying yourself."

  Aric shrugged, but he was smiling. "The Lord Regent is...an intriguing man."

  "Intriguing is one word for it," Olaya muttered, her expression cooling slightly at the mention of Valerian.

  Ruta elbowed her gently, and Olaya sighed. "I am glad to see you here, Aric," she said more warmly. "It has been far too long."

  "For all of us." Aric's gaze flickered between them again. "Though it seems you two have not been apart in quite some time."

  Ruta laughed softly, linking her arm through Olaya's. "We have been quite inseparable since our return to Astaria." Her dark eyes glinted at Aric. "I owe you so much for bringing me back to my people."

  Aric waved off the praise awkwardly. "I only did what anyone would do."

  Olaya was watching him carefully now. "Not everyone would take such risks for those they barely knew." Her voice was quiet, serious. "You have always cared far too much for your own good."

  Aric felt himself blushing, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the wine or the heat of so many bodies packed into one room.

  "I care because I believe we can be better," he said finally.

  Ruta smiled at that, squeezing Olaya's hand fondly. "Yes. We can."

  Aric's steps were faltering as he stumbled off the dance floor, still dazed from the Lord Regent's touch. But he barely had a moment to catch his breath before Davin appeared before him, eyes alight.

  "May I have this dance, Solarian?" Davin asked with a teasing grin, but Aric heard the undercurrent of something rawer beneath it. "I promise not to talk politics."

  Aric was too rattled to refuse. "Of course." He allowed Davin to take his hand, and the feel of Davin's warm skin against his own sent a jolt through him.

  As they moved together, Davin's touch was gentler than Valerian's but no less charged with unspoken tension. They fell into the rhythm of the music easily, as if they had danced this way a thousand times before.

  "It's been a long time," Davin said softly. "Since we've danced like this."

  Aric nodded, throat suddenly tight. Memories flooded back unbidden—summer nights at the Silver Tower, endless hours in the library debating magical theory until dawn...

  All the moments they might have shared if not for Aric's need to push everyone away.

  "I've missed it," Aric admitted.

  He felt rather than saw Davin's smile, felt the other man's fingers flex around his hand. "I've missed you."

  Aric's heart skipped a beat at the admission. He was suddenly acutely aware of how close they were standing, of the slight height difference that let him look up into those freckled green eyes. Davin's hair, coppery red, gleamed in the ballroom's golden light.

  It would be so easy to give in to this. To sink back into the comfortable companionship they had once shared and let all his responsibilities and worries fall away.

  But then he caught sight of Valerian watching them from across the room with an unreadable expression, and Aric was reminded of just how much hung in the balance.

  "Davin..." Aric hesitated, unsure what he even wanted to say.

  Davin's hold on him loosened ever so slightly. "I know there are things we can't speak of here. But whatever it is that's weighing on you—you're not alone."

  Aric swallowed hard as they continued their slow orbit around each other. He wanted desperately to believe that—but he knew too well how quickly things could change.

  "I know," he said finally. "But there are...complications."

  Davin nodded, understanding in those freckled eyes that threatened to undo him entirely. "Just don't let your fear stop you from living."

  They moved together until the song ended, and then released each other reluctantly as applause broke out around them.

  As much as Aric wanted to cling to Davin a little longer—to seek solace in old familiarities—he knew he couldn't ignore what was coming for them all.

  Mid-dance, Aric caught a flicker of silver hair, a glimpse of swirling eyes the color of twilight. Sylthris. Her presence was as brief and elusive as smoke, vanishing into the crowd before he could be sure she'd been there at all.

  "Aric?" Davin's brow furrowed as he followed Aric's gaze.

  "I—I need a moment. Please, excuse me."

 

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