Xander started, realizing that vision wasn’t in his head. His princess had taken off and her ivory wings pumped as she raced around the room, darting and dropping and twisting as her attention jumped from one spot to another. At first, he didn’t believe his eyes.
Then, with a sinking feeling, he did.
Because her arms weren’t full of books, and her focus wasn’t on the shelves but on the windows. The longer he watched, the more she began to remind him of the firebugs he and his brother used to catch as children—how they zipped and zoomed in the little glass jars, glowing like magic in the dark. Once he and Rafe had fallen asleep before they remembered to release them, and when they woke, the bugs were nothing more than motionless black pellets at the bottom of the glass. He had turned the jar over, trying to release them back into the air, but they’d simply fallen to the ground and disappeared between the blades of grass. It was only then that he realized all the buzzing in circles hadn’t been a show for his benefit, but a desperate attempt by the bugs to get out of the jar. He never caught them again after that.
“The view is spectacular,” Lyana marveled, nose against the glass as though if she pressed hard enough, she could be outside, too.
Xander cast another longing glance at the fireplace before straightening his shoulders and walking across the room to open one of the windows. The wind whistled as it rushed through the crack, ruffling the pages all around him. Lyana was by his side in a second. Xander gestured toward the landscape, pretending this was what he’d wanted to show her, trying to infuse his words with an enthusiasm he could no longer feel.
“From here, you can see the entire city of Pylaeon,” he told her. Lyana was enraptured, unaware of the lack of luster in his tone. “Taetanos’s Gate is that spot of white all the way over there between the mountains, and you can see the sun glinting off the river as it cuts through the center of the valley and into the city. The wooden homes along the outer edges are for the more modest ravens, while the stone ones closer to the castle and city center are home to some of the people you’ve been meeting. I don’t know if you can see, but over by the river, most of the buildings are on stilts or columns because during spring, the snow melts and the river spills over its embankments, flooding the streets. And do you notice the black archways spotting the city? There’s one to the left over there, and another over there, and there and there. Well, we call them spirit gates. They lead lost souls through the maze of our city and toward the river so they can follow the water to the entrance of Taetanos’s world. At least, that’s what we’re told as children. And that over there is the main town square, though it’s more of a rectangle really, since the river cuts between the two halves. The bridge connecting each side is the widest and flattest one in the city. And the fountains on either side siphon water from the river to make them shoot into the air like that. Every month there’s a market that gets set up and everyone in the town goes just to gossip, even if they have nothing to sell and no money to buy things. This time of year, children sometimes swim in the shallows of the fountains. But in the winter, the water often freezes over, and they hold hands while they slip and slide across the ice. I used to watch them all the time as a child, wishing I could go out and join them, but I never did, because, well, you of all people must understand why. Anyway…”
He trailed off, unsure what else to say. But he didn’t have to speak. Even without his words, her eyes widened, focusing on the smallest details as though trying to memorize everything she saw, as though trying to drink it all in.
After a few moments, she blinked, only then realizing he’d stopped talking, and turned to him with a curious groove on her brow. “You really love them, don’t you?”
“Huh?” Xander asked. “Who?”
“Your people,” she said, as though it were obvious.
“I’m sure no more than you loved yours,” Xander offered, feeling a little uncomfortable. Surely his actions hadn’t warranted such scrutiny.
But the warmth in her expression was still there, steady and strong as she shook her head with a half smile. “No, no, you really care for them, about them. I can tell from your voice, from the way you talk about your home. I loved my house and the doves, but I’m almost ashamed to admit, I loved myself more. But you don’t. You love them first, and yourself second.”
“Isn’t that what a future king is supposed to do?” he asked offhandedly, overwhelmed by eyes that seemed to probe into his soul.
“Probably, though my guess is they rarely do,” she murmured.
Xander slid his gaze back to the window, searching for a distraction or a shift in the conversation—anything to take the attention off him and how easily she saw through him, especially when she remained a mystery.
“Oh, look,” he exclaimed a little too loudly as he found a familiar figure down below—the owner of a set of speckled wings that could never belong to a raven. “I think that must be your friend Cassi in the practice yards, and that’s probably Rafe with her.”
The princess tensed beside him.
Xander turned from the window, observing how she watched her friend and his brother with a slight curl of lips. He suddenly remembered her words on the last night at the House of Peace, when they were standing at the edge of the isle, having their first few moments of honesty. She’d called Rafe rude and a grouch as a sneer passed across her features.
“You don’t like him very much, do you?” Xander asked softly. “My brother, I mean.”
The princess inhaled sharply as she spun toward him, eyes wide as though caught in some illicit act. Her wings dropped, and a small puff of air slipped through her lips. “Am I so obvious?”
A soft laugh escaped his lips. “A little.”
“I’m sorry—" Lyana paused, folding her lips.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He was grinning now. “What?”
“Nothing, it’s just, well…” Her face scrunched tightly for a moment. “He never apologized,” she rushed to say, as though the confession were a flood she couldn’t control now that it had started. “He never apologized for tricking me in the trials, for pretending to be you. He acted smug when we returned to your guest quarters, and arrogant, and not the least bit sorry for fooling me, and I’m not sure I could ever actually like someone who acts like that.”
Xander’s throat constricted as he shifted his weight, mirth vanishing in an instant, because the princess could just as easily have been talking about him and his actions. Rafe hadn’t been the only one involved in that trickery.
As though she could read his thoughts, Lyana continued, voice smoother this time, no longer filled with ire, “I don’t understand how two people who look so similar could be so completely different. You are so kind, Xander, so honest, and I knew at a glance how horrible you felt about the trials. I could read the shame across your face as soon as you confessed the truth. But him? He just— He just— He—”
Lyana broke off, and her feathers bristled, leaving her words at that.
“He’s complicated.”
Xander sighed, turning from the window to lean against the shelf, feeling grounded and supported by the spines of his books as he faced the princess. He wasn’t surprised at her words. Lyana had grown up with a mother and father who perhaps loved one another. Her brother was her equal in the eyes of her people, a sibling they all cherished just as much as they did her. His childhood, Rafe’s childhood—they were as foreign to her as his home. But he didn’t want them to be. Lyana would never fully understand him until she understood his brother. His mate and his brother were the two most important people in his life. He wasn’t sure what he would do if they couldn’t find a way to get along.