Chapter 34
The moment Yassie's door clicked shut behind us, I stiffened. His grip on my wrist was firm but not painful. It was as if he was testing boundaries.
"You've been avoiding me," he said, voice low. The room was dim, lit only by a single candle guttering in its holder. Shadows carved hollows beneath his cheekbones, sharpening the playful charm I remembered into something darker.
I tugged my arm free. "I've been busy."
"Busy?" He stepped closer, forcing me to tilt my head up to meet his gaze. "Or are you still afraid of what you feel when you're near him?"
A log cracked in the fireplace. I focused on the sound, steadying my breath. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Yassie's smirk was infuriating. "Liar. You forget—I've seen the way you look at Sey when you think no one's watching. Like he's the only star in a sky full of shadows."
My pulse fluttered. Had it been that obvious?
"And what if I do?" I challenged, lifting my chin. "It changes nothing. The Phoenix chose me. The flames are my duty. Not… this." I gestured between us, the air thick with unsaid things.
Yassie exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "You're so stubborn. Duty didn't stop you before."
"Before, I wasn't queen."
A silence stretched between us, taut as a bowstring. Then, softer: "Do you remember anything? From… us?"
I hesitated. Fragments flickered—laughter in sunlit gardens, his fingers brushing mine as he passed me a book. But the emotions were blurred, like ink smudged by rain. "Pieces," I admitted. "But they don't feel like mine."
Yassie's expression softened. "Then let me remind you." He reached out, slow enough that I could pull away—but I didn't. His fingertips grazed the back of my hand, feather-light. "We used to sneak into the palace orchards at midnight. You'd steal peaches, and I'd pretend not to notice."
A laugh escaped me, unbidden. "That sounds like me."
"Or the time you—"
A knock shattered the moment.
"Aurora."Sey's voice through the door was velvet-wrapped steel. "We need to talk. Now."
Yassie dropped my hand, rolling his eyes. "Worst. Timing. Ever."
I smoothed my skirts, willing my heartbeat to slow. "I should go."
"Of course you should." Yassie's grin returned, though it didn't reach his eyes. "But ask yourself this—why does he sound so tense? Jealousy, perhaps?"
The Letter and the Flames
Sey stood in the corridor, his silhouette framed by torchlight. He didn't speak, just held out his hand.
I placed mine in his—a mistake. His fingers closed around mine, warm and calloused, and something electric skittered up my arm. Dangerous.
He led me to the palace's oldest tower, where the wind whistled through cracks in the stone. A single parchment lay on the table, covered in symbols I didn't recognize.
"The first flame," he said, tracing the map with his fingertip. "It's hidden in the Mirror Lakes. But there's a condition."
I leaned in, my shoulder barely brushing his. "Which is?"
"It only appears to those who've faced their deepest regret."His gaze flicked to mine, gold-flecked and unreadable. "Do you know yours?"
The question settled like a stone in my gut. Regret.The word conjured images—a battlefield, Sey's voice screaming my name, my own hands stained with—
I flinched. "I don't remember."
"Liar." He said it softly, almost fondly. "You remember enough to be afraid of it."
I turned away, hugging my arms. "Why does it matter? The flame won't care about my past."
"It will." He stepped closer, his breath stirring the hair at my temple. "Because the fire judges the heart, not the crown."
I swallowed. "Then I'll face it. Alone."
"No."His hand hovered near my back, not touching but close enough that I felt the heat. "I'm coming with you."
"Why?"
A beat. Then, so quiet I almost missed it: "Because I can't watch you burn twice."