#operation ghost leopard

Lorcan’s long legs proved to keep her out of her thoughts, too, as she scrambled to keep pace with him along the way. If he noticed, he didn’t care. His speed remained constant, so Lysandra made sure to school her breathing so that he didn’t hear her panting next to him. Before long, they were in front of Aelin’s door, waiting on an attendant to let them inside.

“Been a while on cardio, Ennar?”

So much for that.

“Fuck you,” she spat, ignoring Lorcan’s rough chuckle.

The door opened, and they walked through with little ceremony. Aelin was seated near her window, reading over some type of report and sipping her morning tea. She was the portrait of unruffled calm as she eyed them curiously.

“It’s a little early for you, Lorcan, but it’s nice to see you, Lys.”

The commander rolled his eyes, but his voice was professional. He filled her in on the events of the morning: Evangeline’s arrival, Vaughan’s role undercover, and Aedion’s absence. The news of Vaughan’s involvement had Aelin’s eyes widening, but she saved her comments for another time. Lysandra was sure to add the detail of Aedion’s dog tags that Vaughan had given her and reiterate the ultimatum that she’d been given by Arobynn.

The princess took the information in with a furrowed brow, but she gave no other indication of her inner thoughts. There were times where Lysandra envied Aelin’s game face, but at that moment, it only served to stoke her emotions. She huffed in annoyance, earning a subtle tilt of Aelin’s chin in her direction.

“What?”

“Just wondering how we should proceed, is all. This seems rather time sensitive if Aedion has turned himself in to Arobynn.”

“Do we have confirmation that he’s done so?” Her voice was calm, unaffected. “I get he delivered his dog tags to Arobynn’s assistant, but do we know that he stayed?”

“Well... no,” Lysandra stammered. “But all the signs point to him having done that.”

“Hmm,” Aelin mused, turning her head to look out the window. “Before we do anything, I think we need to take the time to figure this out. If Aedion’s made a move, he obviously has a plan. Acting too quickly risks throwing a wrench in all of it and putting him in further danger.”

Lysandra gawked at the back of Aelin’s head, then turned to Lorcan to see a quizzical expression on his face. He seemed to be just as conflicted by the princess’ reaction, or rather, her non-reaction. Lorcan cleared his throat.

“I know you’re no stranger to rogue side missions, but I would prefer if we mediate this sooner rather than later. There are too many loose ends.” There was a slight bite to his words, but Lysandra couldn’t blame him for it.

Aelin’s head whipped in his direction, but Lysandra spoke before she could lash out at the commander.

“Aelin, I hear you. I do, but you and I both know Arobynn well enough to know we don’t have time to see how it all plays out. I can’t pretend to know what Aedion’s thinking, but—“

“What did his note say, Lysandra?”

She could only blink at Aelin’s cool words. She knew it wasn’t genuine curiosity that fueled them considering she’d already told her. No, there was calculation behind those turquoise eyes. Lysandra pretended it didn’t hurt to look directly into them with Aedion’s fate being unknown.

She remembered suddenly that she had fisted the note on the way out of Aedion’s rooms. Stepping toward the princess, she shoved it in her general direction without a word. To open her mouth meant risking her various frustrations flowing out of her. She watched as Aelin’s eyes scanned the small piece of paper, pretending the words weren’t imprinted on the back of her own eyelids.

Please trust me, Lys.

Keep practicing. I love you. — Aedion

“This doesn’t seem like the note of someone without a plan, Lys.” Her voice was soft, a glimmer of emotion showing itself.

Lysandra released a sound of frustration nearing a full growl. Lorcan’s head snapped her way as Rowan’s tall form walked through the doorway to join them. His eyes scanned the room, taking them all in, as he moved to take the seat across from Aelin.

“Why should we honor his fucking plan, Aelin? Have you forgotten that we all had a plan? This whole court? He didn’t honor it, so why do we let him do whatever he sees fit? He’s putting himself in danger that he didn’t need to face alone. How can you be so complicit?”

“Why do you think he did it, Lysandra?” Aelin demanded, her voice raising. “I hardly agree with his decision, but I have to trust his intuition and his skills. We have no clue where he is in his plan, and if we intervene now, we risk his blood on our hands. I won’t do it!”

All she could see was red in her field of vision, and she was only mildly aware of anyone’s presence other than the princess’. Her voice dropped in lethal calm.

“Fine. I can’t talk you out of supporting this self-sacrificial bullshit, but I don’t have to accept it. If we’re all doing whatever the fuck we want, I’m going after him. I’m late for work, anyway.”

She spun on her heel, and the attendant already had the door open for her exit. Without even the satisfaction of slamming the door behind her, Lysandra headed for the lion’s den.

—

The door to the Keep was locked when Lysandra pulled the handle, causing a sense of absolute dread to flow across her skin. She retrieved her employee ID from her tote and scanned in. Annie sat at her usual desk, smiling tensely at Lysandra as she approached her desk.

“Why’s the door locked?” Deep down she knew, but she wondered what the story was around the office.

“It’s been a weird day already,” Annie lamented, loosing a heavy breath as she looked up at her. “It was really chaotic this morning, but it got really quiet all of a sudden. Not sure what that’s about, but Arobynn ordered lockdown protocol. Only people with IDs or ordered explicitly by Arobynn can come in or out.”

Lysandra’s stomach dropped to the floor, but she mastered her face into indifference.

Her tone was as nonchalant as she could muster. “You never know around here. It’s always something.”

Annie huffed a short laugh. “Indeed. Well, I think there’s some coffee left if you’re interested. Other than that, Arobynn asked that I direct you to conference room 4 as soon as you’re able.”

“Mustn’t keep him waiting,” Lysandra mocked, trying to keep the air around them as light as possible. “Thanks, Annie.”

On heavy feet, she forced herself to maintain a casual pace as she walked toward the conference room. Her heart thundered within her chest at twice the pace of her footfalls, leaving her feeling chaotic and unnerved. She paused with her hand on the conference room door and took a long, deep breath. It was best to prepare herself for anything she may see, but even in the event that she couldn’t, she told herself she only had to manage her external reaction. Her internal reaction was her own and an entirely different story.

Hauling the heavy door toward her, she watched as the latch clued her colleagues to her presence. Her eyes locked onto Tern’s, but she saw Mullin’s and Harding’s on her from the periphery. They regarded her with grim annoyance, but before she could ask what the fuck their problems were that day, Arobynn’s voice shook her from her thoughts.

“Nice of you to join us, Olivia. Perhaps this day will prove more productive now that you’ve arrived.”

“Conference Room 4” was a pretty moniker for the Keep’s interrogation room. The set-up emulated a lecture hall on a smaller scale, complete with long tables staggered in height to allow for numerous attendees to see the platform at the front of the room. There was an aisle of stairs between them, leading down to the pit. Her colleagues were scattered at various tables, seemingly spread out in case ground needed to be covered quickly.

What caught her breath in her throat; however, was when she looked toward her boss’ voice at the base of the stairs. There was a certain arrogance etched into his features, but more nerve-wrecking was the flash of golden hair she saw over his shoulder thanks to her elevated perspective. She didn’t dare look at him immediately for fear of what she would see, but she swore his posture stiffened at Arobynn’s words.

“I was chasing some leads this morning. I apologize for the delay. What do we have here?”

She hated the indifference in her voice, the taunt that she aimed toward Aedion. Deep down, she knew he would see it for the show that it was. At least, she hoped he would.

“It seems your charge snuck away to do some investigating himself this morning. He showed up first thing to speak with Tern, but I wasn’t made aware of his presence until a couple of hours ago.” The irritation he aimed at Tern was laced through his voice, and Lysandra didn’t envy her colleague for it. She turned her attention his way, if only to rip her temptation away from looking at Aedion.

“What business did he have with you?” Lysandra demanded, jutting her chin toward Tern.

She moved to one of the conference tables, setting her things down and getting settled. She chose one on the same side of the room as the doors, even with Tern who was on the other side of the aisle. Harding and Mullin flanked the aisle as well, placed a couple of rows down from the two of them.

“He came inquiring about you, actually,” Tern responded as if Aedion didn’t exist at all. “According to him, you’d arrived at the palace pretty shaken, and he felt like you were holding back. I told him that you’d been having more one on ones with Arobynn lately, but that’s all I knew.” He paused to allow her the chance to respond. She didn’t take it. “The interesting part was that he seemed surprised to hear that. Apparently, you’d only shared with him that I’d been giving you a hard time.”

She swallowed thickly, wondering for the life of her why Aedion would have chosen to share that news with him. Her heart crumpled for the man before them who had been so blinded that he’d walked straight into Arobynn’s web. His desire to avenge her had outweighed—

Wait. That wasn’t right at all, was it? Aedion Ashryver wasn’t a man who went in blind or sold her out to her colleagues by telling them she was sharing intel. There was a reason to this.

“That’s not exactly what I’d told him, is it?”

Hopefully she could get Tern to fill in the gaps for her, to lay out the narrative Aedion had presented. Her odds of doing so with Tern were far greater than being able to do it with Arobynn. That was her next clue that everything happening was very much by design.

“No. That’s the part I can’t figure out,” Tern responded, his jaw and shoulders tense. “He said I’d made advances at you, that I’d made you uncomfortable by coming onto you. Maybe you can tell me what that’s about.”

Shit, could she? She dared a quick glance at Aedion, but he was staring resolutely at his lap with a grave look on his handsome face. She hoped it wasn’t obvious to the others how badly she wanted to smooth his wrinkled brow.

She scoffed in Tern’s direction. “Don’t get so worked up, Tern. He was badgering me about what was wrong, and I gave him an excuse to keep him from asking more questions. How was I to know he’d bust in here to play the part of hero?”

Her colleague’s jaw ticked in irritation as he considered his next words. “It’s odd that you picked me for your lie when it’s you and Arobynn who have been having all these secret meetings together without the rest of us,” he spat. Lysandra dared a glance toward their boss. His face had gone totally blank, but his eyes were fixed on Tern with a predator’s focus.

If the man noticed, he didn’t let on as he continued talking. “I told you I knew you were up to something. Now is as good a time as any to come out with it.”

The fool really thought he’d backed her into a corner. She almost laughed at his myopathy, but she felt a sort of sympathy for him. Aedion had used the bits of information Lysandra shared over time to stoke Tern’s paranoia and effectively drive a wedge between him and Arobynn without so much as lifting a finger, really. If she wasn’t so angry with the prince, she’d be impressed.

It was his voice, low and defeated, that broke her train of thought. “Just drop the charade, Olivia. I know about the baby.”

Lysandra’s head whipped toward Aedion, who now looked directly into her face. It was then that she realized the zip ties that bound his wrists to the metal table next to him and the various bruises across his face. She choked down a growl at seeing him injured in such a way, but she couldn’t afford the show of emotion. She focused her energy instead on ignoring his split bottom lip and the deep purple beneath both of his eyes. She pretended his nose wasn’t swollen and slightly crooked, that it wasn’t his blood dripped across his stretched shirt. She’d rip the limbs off of every man present for what they’d done.

But she had to navigate Aedion’s damned riddles first.

Lysandra channeled her rage into an incredulous tone. “What?!”

It was Tern who took over. “It all adds up; your meetings with Arobynn, the vomiting in your office. It’s not like you did well hiding it. When Ashryver mentioned you’d been run down lately and seemed off, it wasn’t hard to put the details together.”

If not for the dire nature of their situation, Lysandra may have laughed at the dramatic widening of Arobynn’s eyes. So, Aedion had succeeded in his goal to drive a wedge within Arobynn’s inner circle. Was the pregnancy an attempt to keep her safe from physical harm? Should she lean into the theory or deny it? Those questions were a couple of many examples of why Aedion should have run his plan by her before the execution phase. Damn him.

“What is this about?” Arobynn demanded, his patience hanging by a thread. “Tern, you’ve lost your damned mind.”

What purpose could this possibly fucking serve? Lysandra willed her brain to pick it apart, to think like Aedion would. He could have taken so many other avenues, but he didn’t. She reflected on his note in hopes she could decipher any hidden meanings.

Please trust me, Lys.

Keep practicing. I love you.

— Aedion

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Arobynn turned his attention to Aedion when Tern didn’t give him anything. “What the fuck is this about? These claims are ridiculous.” His voice was low and smooth as he asked, his focus now trained solely on the prince.

“How the fuck would I know?” Aedion snarled. “Is this some petty fucking revenge? My cousin refuses your hand and you knock up Olivia to even the score?”

Arobynn took a step forward toward him, and Lysandra knew whatever he intended to do wasn’t good for Aedion. Before he could close the distance entirely, she spoke up.

“Enough of this. There’s no baby, Aedion. It seems you’ve fallen to Tern’s delusions.”

The prince’s eyes flicked over to hers, and she swore she saw a gleam of approval in them. At that moment, she was running on pure adrenaline, so she couldn’t take much credit for actual strategy. She only knew that her composure would shred the moment Arobynn laid a hand on Aedion in her presence.

Arobynn seemed content with her interruption, a feral smirk dragging across his mouth. He straightened the lapels of his jacket before sliding his hands into his pockets. “Has it yet occurred to you why she’s here in the first place?”

Aedion made a show of looking from Arobynn to Lysandra and back again. “N-no.”

The rhythm of the exchange started to settle into her bones, and Lysandra let out an ironic sounding laugh at Aedion’s apprehension. Arobynn turned toward her, but her eyes remained fixed on Aedion over his shoulder. That same gleam sparkled in his eyes as if encouraging her to continue. She could have been imagining it to justify her actions, but she decided instead to believe he was directing her through whatever the hell they were doing. He dared a quick half-smile, barely a swift uptick at the corner of his mouth, as if to say— Come on, Lys. Dance with me. Just one more time.

Except this time, he was prepared to let her lead.

“Truly?” she taunted. “Not once since I got here have you questioned it?”

He shook his head to reiterate his response. The others had no way of knowing that he would have questioned it immediately under different circumstances, that he was lying through his teeth. She was more than happy to use it to her advantage, turning to address Tern fully.

“For fuck’s sake, Tern. Arobynn and I aren’t having an affair. We’ve been meeting alone because there’s a level to this mission that only concerns me. Although, it doesn’t surprise me that your ego would have you assume you should be present.” She paused to allowed anyone to respond, but no one did. “The risk of it is mine, so I preferred to discuss it alone.”

“Does someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” The anger in Aedion’s voice sliced through a bit of her bravado, but she mastered herself quickly.

“I’m getting there, Prince,” she replied coyly, turning her attention to the room as a whole. “If I was meant to follow through on this task, it couldn’t happen within the walls of the palace. There would be too many witnesses and too little possibility of an alibi. That made me wonder how to lure him here, in the security of the Keep, to best execute said task. The male ego is fascinating, especially one of a man in love, so it took very little talk of Tern’s inappropriate behavior to have the prince bloodthirsty.”

She turned toward Aedion to see that same look of approval. Emboldened by it, she continued with her reveal.

“Am I right, Aedion? Were you prepared to defend my honor when you arrived this morning?”

The prince made a show of looking almost sheepish, leaning defensive. He offered her a tense nod, and she rose from her seat to prop herself at the end of the table. “As noble as that may be, it brought you here, making my job that much easier.”

Arobynn, blessedly, took over her recount from there. “You see, our Lysandra has been on a mission these last months. Your cousin has created quite a stir with the lords of Terrasen, and they hired me and my men to gather intel on her movements. They’re not overly keen on the idea of relinquishing the shared governance to which they’ve grown accustomed. Had Aelin been thinking of her country rather than her selfishness, she would have accepted my hand. It would have secured her future as Queen.”

“And you would be King,” Aedion sneered, unruffled by the abuse he’d suffered at Arobynn’s hand.

Arobynn nodded, taking a couple of steps closer to Aedion. Lysandra resisted her urge to go after him. “But now, she’s betrothed to the King of Adarlan. While I can understand the appeal, her people fear the possibility of an empire. Adarlan isn’t a nation to scoff about, and their forces backing any agenda that Aelin could possibly dream is dangerous. The only ways around this would be her abdication or her untimely demise.” Aedion jerked against his restraints at the clear threat to his cousin, to no avail. “That won’t do will it?”

The prince only stared him down, unwilling to humor him with any kind of response. Arobynn paced back and forth as he continued. “Your years as part of the royal family have surely allowed a certain level of education around succession. Tell me, Prince, who would inherit the throne in the absence of an heir.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Aedion ground out, warning dripping from the words.

Arobynn’s patience had worn thin, indicated by the increased volume of his voice. “Who is next in the succession, Aedion?”

He looked at Arobynn with murder brewing in his turquoise eyes, that ring of gold glowing as bright as Lysandra had ever seen it. His reply came through gritted teeth. “Me.”

“Exactly. Which is why Lysandra was an obvious choice for the task at hand. If anyone could get close enough, it would be her considering the nature of your infatuation with her.”

Aedion’s eyes widened in horror as he turned them her way. Even knowing that he knew the truth, the pain worn all over his place gutted her.

“Lysandra?” Aedion spat, as if the name disgusted him. Of all the times he’d said it to her, that was most definitely her least favorite. He dropped his voice as he addressed her, and she swore he’d never looked so earnest. Things with them had been genuine for so long that she forgot how skilled he was undercover. “Olivia,” he pleaded, “tell me what’s going on. I don’t know what he’s said to you or what dream you’ve been sold, but—“

“Don’t,” she interrupted, partly to seem harsh but also because she couldn’t bear it. “I know this is a lot to take in, but Arobynn tells the truth. You’re an unfortunate complication that had to be eliminated. I must admit I regret that a little. You’re not all bad,” she taunted.

Aedion’s jaw ticked with anger, his throat bobbing as he steadied his voice. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You’ve had plenty of opportunities. You would have done it.”

Lysandra hadn’t expected the clear hit at her credibility, but she supposed it would seem more suspicious if he didn’t question her. After all, he was meant to be a fool in love, someone she’d so clearly manipulated to her favor. She went immediately on the defensive.

“Maybe so, if I were impulsive and didn’t care for self-preservation. It would have been suicide to make an attempt on your life within the palace or around your court. I needed to draw you out, get you around my own before doing anything. What better explanation than you barreling into the Keep with your jealousy and your territorial male bullshit? Think of the PR nightmare with such behavior from a prince; Terrasen’s sweetheart, no less. They’d accept our claims of self-defense if only to keep it quiet,” she finished, praying to the gods that she hadn’t thrown any wrench in the plan.

She quickly decided that even if she did, it was on Aedion to wiggle his way out of it. If he wanted her on the same page so badly, he would have included her in the plan in the first place. Lysandra shook her head softly at the thoughts; valid as they were, they weren’t productive. She couldn’t afford to resent Aedion at that point.

“No!” Aedion bellowed, refusing to accept her words. As if remembering himself, he squeezed his eyes shut against the anger, and when he opened them, Lysandra had to breathe against the rawness of his emotions. “You’re lying, baby,” he said softly. “Would you just drop this? Please? Olivia, you told me you loved me. We have plans together.”

Realization hit her suddenly as the pieces of Aedion’s proverbial puzzle fell into place. It was his words, chosen artfully and intentionally to parallel their argument the night before, that finally made everything line up.

Go on; I want to believe you.

You’re lying, baby.

She hoped she wasn’t reading into the parallel too closely, but she had a hard time talking herself out of it.

Do your worst, Lysandra. Tell me that I don’t matter to you; that you never cared about me. Make me believe that you manipulated my trust so blatantly, and I never saw it coming. Lie to me, baby.

So, this was what he’d wanted. For her to refuse him in front of everyone, to absolve her of any responsibility to keep her safe. As much as she could throttle him for it, she didn’t dare get off track so late in the charade. Her own words to him echoed through her brain, the final piece that made Aedion’s note make sense.

I can’t. You know I can’t.

And the words from his godsdamned letter—

Keep practicing. I love you.

Lysandra must have been quiet for a length of time. Aedion’s voice jolted her back to the present, urging her to meet him fully in their game.

“I brought you to Adarlan with my court. I’ve met your sister, for the gods’ sake. Was it really all part of this fucked up game you’re playing?”

She looked into his face once more to find it wrecked, his eyes brimming with tears. The sight was convincing enough to riddle her with guilt despite her having committed no grievances. She schooled her face into a mask of someone totally indifferent to his words.

“Aedion, stop all this. Seriously, you’ll embarrass yourself,” she admonished, steeling herself to be convincing enough with the ridiculous things she had to say out loud. “The truth is you meant nothing to me, not really.”

She glanced to Arobynn whose face was covered in feral delight at her taunting. When she looked back to Aedion, a tear rolled down his cheek, and she hated it. Hated it. But as twisted as it was, she could do this for him.

“You saw what you wanted to see; what I wanted you to see. I did what I needed to do to earn your trust and gain access to Aelin.” She started down the stars, pacing her decent with her words. “You were a means to an end; a direct path to our goal as an organization. I honestly thought it would take longer to manipulate you so thoroughly considering your notorious cleverness, but you were blinded by the things I dared to show you.” She was right in front of him now, gripping his chin a jerking it upward roughly to look at her. His haunted expression nearly brought her to her knees. “Truthfully, you are my assignment and nothing more.”

Before the prince could respond to her painful monologue, an object, blurred by its sheer speed, flew mere centimeters from Aedion’s cheekbone. Both of them jumped at the loud thud on the wall behind him, and Lysandra snapped her gaze upward to assess what had flown so closely to Aedion’s head that several wisps of his blond hair now littered the forearm of her sweater. Her blood boiled when she saw the dagger embedded in the wall, and it took every single ounce of her self-control to turn slowly to determine which of her colleagues had so impetuously interfered with how she handled her charge.

Lysandra had never been so relieved to see Lorcan Salvaterre in all of her life.

—

He’d been perched casually at the very back, his ankles crossed with his boots atop the table. Once the room’s attention turned to him, he’d lowered his feet and wordlessly stood to meet Arobynn’s men who were already upon him. Lysandra wondered if her jaw was slack as she watched him make those trained men look like young children, effortlessly disarming them and moving to the next.

She’d only been vaguely aware of the code being called when men from various parts of the Keep flooded the conference room. Bile rose to her throat at the sheer numbers, and she knew she needed to make her way over to the dagger before anyone else. She wondered if that had been Lorcan’s intention all along, to make sure she was a armed before the chaos erupted.

That was where she found herself, dagger in hand and running back toward Aedion through the numerous agents engaged in combat around them. Lysandra was skilled, had trained in combat the better part of her life, but they were outnumbered. Lorcan was otherworldly, something entirely inhuman, but everyone had their limits. Her heart sank at the innocent people sprinkled through the Keep who may fall victim to the pandemonium she created. She had to figure out a way to evacuate them sooner rather than later.

As if summoned by Lysandra’s train of thoughts, the door nearest to the pit opened to reveal Aelin, Rowan’s form shadowing not far behind her. The princess was dressed for the brutality surrounding her, daggers in hand. She thought she could cry at seeing the blonde despite wanting to choke her only hours before.

“What are you—“

“No time for that, Lysandra. Here.” Aelin tossed another dagger her way, hilt first, from the small strap around her thigh. She caught it with ease. “It’s time we fought on the same side for once.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she would never give the woman the satisfaction of knowing it. She whirled for Aedion, kneeling to slice through the zip ties securing each of his ankles to the chair legs.

“You’re incredible,” he marveled at her, his eyes soft with emotion.

“Thanks,” she replied, grunting with the effort of slicing through the binds at his wrists. Aedion hissed at the sting of the ties, rubbing at his wrists with his large hands. “Now, go.”

Aedion’s eyes grew twice their size at her words, but she cut him off before he could argue. “I’m serious. Go to the front, find Arobynn’s assistant. Her name is Annie. She knows the Keep and can help you get everyone out safely.”

“Lys, I—“

“Don’t argue with me. Please.” Her voice broke on the word. “The risks are high enough. They need someone who can lead them out of here and keep them safe. You have the experience and the skill to do it, so I’m asking you.”

“I should be here to—“

“It’s an order, Ashryver,” Lorcan called from where he engaged with one of Arobynn’s men. Lysandra hadn’t know he was so close, nor that he could hear her words to Aedion, but she was thankful regardless. “Do what Ennar says. Find the assistant and evacuate the keep. Now.”

The prince ground his teeth at the order as if he meant to defy it. Lysandra took his face between her hands, careful not to aggravate his injuries, and tried to shake him out of his thoughts.

“Please,” she begged again. “I trusted you. I need you to return the favor.”

Aedion hissed a curse under his breath, his eyes closing slowly as he considered her words. Honor won out, and he tore himself away from her to head for the doors. He paused only long enough for Rowan to toss several weapons his way. She regretted the second his golden hair disappeared through the door, but it had been what she wanted.

Lysandra’s brain seemed to empty out as she joined the fray. She wondered if she would ever remember the men with whom she faced off, her body carrying her on autopilot as if not a day had passed since the last time she’d engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Rowan proved to be just as impressive as Lorcan, almost as if he was fueled by the altercations rather than drained by them. Aelin was nowhere in her periphery, but she knew the princess was alive and well since Rowan hadn’t made it his personal responsibility to rip the heads off of every one of Arobynn’s men.

The sound of bone crunching as she rammed the hilt of her dagger into her opponents face may have been the one thing with the potential to haunt her. The sound combined with the vacant look in the man’s eyes as he hit the ground brought her roughly to the present. She blinked when she realized no one else engaged her and allowed her eyes to scan the room to assess the damage.

Lorcan still faced off with two men, but he would best them in minutes, Lysandra guessed. Rowan was engaged with several men of his own, but his eyes still scanned the room every second he got in search of Aelin. That fact alone made Lysandra happy that Aedion wasn’t with them. She would have never been able to concentrate on the task at hand with him nearby.

Shaking her from her reverie was the deep timber of Rowan’s voice, yelling Aelin’s name from his place across the room from her. Lysandra whipped her head around in search of the princess to find what she assumed was Rowan’s worst nightmare. Aelin faced off with Arobynn Hamel himself.

Rowan’s warning had served its purpose in prompting Aelin to duck under the swing of another of Arobynn’s men behind her. The distraction cost her though, allowing Arobynn the opportunity to disarm her effortlessly with a cruel chuckle. Lysandra saw red as the other man grabbed Aelin by the arms, securing her in place before Arobynn. She moved to intervene, but any plan for freeing Aelin without risking either or both of them wouldn’t manifest. For the umpteenth time that day, Lysandra was winging it.

A loud thud to her left caught her attention, but she continued to move. In her periphery she saw a flash of silver hair keeping step with her toward Aelin, and she turned to him in hopes that he had a plan of his own. To her horror, he deferred to her, assuming she had any rhyme to her reason at all.

“I’ll cover you,” he assured her, and Lysandra was touched by the loyalty she heard in his voice. He’d only shown her indifference, maybe a little amusement at times, and she realized she’d dramatically underestimated his esteem for her.

How long had she cautioned herself against feeling any sense of belonging to Aelin’s court? Only to realize maybe she’d belonged all along.

Newfound resolve washed over her, and she readied herself to do right by the people there with her. Fighting for Aelin, fighting for her.

“I’ve got Arobynn. You take care of the man who has Aelin.”

Rowan barely grunted his agreement before his long stride inevitably pulled him away from her. Lysandra surveyed the scene. Arobynn had Aelin’s cheeks squeezed roughly between his fingers and his thumb, leaning closely to her face as he spewed whatever hate he’d landed on. His dagger was balanced across her throat, leaving Aelin motionless even if her face was as determined as ever.

With stealth seemingly incompatible with Rowan’s massive form, he’d successfully positioned himself behind Arobynn’s accomplice, his own dagger poised over the man’s throat. A wolffish grin spread across Arobynn’s face at the realization.

“Why am I not surprised to see Rowan Whitethorn playing the part of your hero, Aelin? I wonder how he’s managed with the news of your engagement. Perhaps he hopes being your saving grace will win your good favor after all,” he taunted.

Aelin’s lips curled into a sneer, but Lysandra took her place behind Arobynn before she could respond. The man behind the princess gawked at her, so she supposed any anonymity she’d hoped for was out the window.

“On your knees, Arobynn. And drop the knife.”

Her boss laughed at the realization of who now held a knife to his own throat, and Lysandra felt the vibrations of it through the hilt of the blade. He complied with neither of her demands. Her heart hammered in her chest at the boldness of her actions, but it seemed she’d finally hit her threshold of Arobynn’s control and manipulation.

“I said on your knees, Arobynn.”

That time, she didn’t give him the opportunity to defy her. The heel of her boot made rough contact with the inside of his knee, and unlike Lorcan earlier that morning, Arobynn crumpled. He landed roughly against the tile, barking a curse at the pain that radiated through his knees. Lysandra lowered herself with him, her blade still pressed against his throat. He recovered with his dagger still in hand.

“What is this, Lysandra? Are you making a statement now? You want everyone here to know how you made me kneel for you, bent me to your will?”

“No,” she breathed, panic rising in her throat as Arobynn poised his dagger to strike. She didn’t know whether he aimed for Aelin’s inner thigh or her, but she didn’t give the time to find out. “I only care that you bowed for the Queen of Terrasen.”

Her blade sliced true, and the only sound that followed was the splattering of Arobynn’s blood against the tile.

——————————————————————————

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His calm demeanor did help to soothe her slightly, but Lysandra remained impatient with the delay that a full update would require. At least he wasn’t asking her to wait and call a meeting with the court. They moved a little more into his rooms, but she couldn’t bear to sit down with the adrenaline running through her veins. Aedion stood nearby, casually perched against the small hutch adjacent to the sitting area.

Lysandra paced the carpet in short distances, the words spilling out of her with peak urgency. On the few occasions she glanced into Aedion’s face, his jaw was set in determination as he processed her update, and the gold of his eyes seemed to glow brighter the more she spoke. She made a mental note to take them in, to do her best to memorize the details of them before she no longer could.

Once she finished, Aedion’s only response was a short, sharp curse under his breath. She watched as his brows came together in contemplation, hoping to the gods that he would arrive at the same decision as she had. If only she had been so lucky.

“Lys, I can’t leave.”

Her eyes widened at the finality of his tone. “Why the hell not? Aedion, I can’t protect you. If I don’t follow through, one of the others will be assigned to do it. We maybe have a couple of days until the lords call their meeting to readdress the proposal, but you’ll need that in travel time. Please.”

The man exhaled a long, labored breath through his nose. “The mission isn’t complete. I can’t just run. What kind of life would that be anyway?”

“One where you’re alive!” Lysandra shouted. “What kind of question is that?”

Aedion’s jaw flickered in frustration, his eyes glowing even brighter. They looked much like his cousin’s when angry; she couldn’t help but notice. “Lysandra, do you have any idea what you’re asking me to do? To abandon you, Aelin, and the rest of the court that brought us this far? I’m not leaving all of you to deal with the mess of it while I crouch in some random cave in Adarlan, for the gods’ sake.”

His voice was quiet, near vicious. The prince she had come to know so intimately was fading by the second.

“You said you would do what needed to be done for Terrasen. Do you remember?”

“Of course I fucking remember, why would—“

“Then you need to remain alive, or you risk leaving them without a leader,” she insisted, her own voice taking on a quality she so rarely heard. “What happens if you’re killed, and despite what they’ve already said, they go through with killing Aelin, too? At least if you run, there’s an heir who could claim the throne and save Terrasen from all this corruption.”

“I never wanted the throne!” Aedion yelled, closing his eyes to gather himself before he spoke again. “That throne has always been Aelin’s. I need to stay and help her to reclaim her birthright. I have no interest in claiming it in her stead.”

Lysandra’s head fell back as she glared at the ceiling, her patience with Aedion’s honor complex fraying at an alarming rate. “Gods, it’s like you’re trying to make this as difficult as possible. Aed, think about me, too. If you go, you’re one less person I have to juggle on my list of who to keep safe. You’re one less person I care about threatened by their retaliation if you’re long gone. Why can’t you understand that?”

“Be pissed all you want, but you have no idea what you’re asking of me. You’re asking a war General to abandon his people and his family for self-preservation,” he explained, closing the distance between them to reclaim his grip on her upper arms. “It goes against every code I’ve ever lived by; formal and unspoken.”

She lowered her chin to look at him, and a solitary tear slipped down her cheek. Aedion’s face softened at seeing it, and he lifted a hand to whisk it away with his finger.

He continued quietly, his eyes scanning her face for any read at all. “And while that may be the case for you, you’re simply reassigning that crippling fear to me. How in the hell am I supposed to run from this when everyone I know and love is risking it all while I’m gone? I’ll go mad.”

Truth be told, she hadn’t considered that perspective. She assumed he could leave temporarily and rejoin the court once everything was handled, but there were no guarantees that they could navigate the threat successfully. Especially without Aedion’s input and skill.

Lysandra bit her lip as she fought another wave of tears. She was wildly unsuccessful with that.

“I just want you to be okay, and it’s hard for me to see how I can make that happen without causing any risk to Eva.”

“Well, maybe you could pull Eva from school. The two of you could lay low in Adarlan while we figure all this out. Dorian will house the two of you; no question.”

As tempting as it was, she knew it wouldn’t do any good. “That would be wonderful, but Arobynn would never rest until he tracked us down. It would blow our cover entirely, ruin the whole mission, and he would want justice paid. I appreciate the thought, though.”

The prince blessed her with a soft smile as he moved both of his hands to cup her cheeks. His thumbs worked across her high cheekbones to combat the tracks of tears that ran there, but she didn’t have the heart to tell him it was a lost cause. They weren’t going to stop anytime soon.

He placed a tender kiss to her forehead, lingering there as she spoke again. “Where’s the guy who was brooding when this mission started because he had to give everything up? This would be an easier sell to that guy.”

Aedion chuckled softly, barely a huff of air through his nose and a small rumble in his chest. “Well, things changed,” he murmured. Lysandra picked up on a heaviness in his words, and she knew his next were important. “That guy wasn’t pathetically in love with you.”

She stiffened at his declaration. How was she supposed to mediate such terror at what this meant for them with such unfiltered joy?

“Aedion... no.” Her words hadn’t been carefully selected, to say the least.

She regretted them instantly when she felt his violent flinch at her reaction. Her cheeks felt instantly cold when his hands fell to his sides. His face was unreadable, a mask of veiled indifference, as he slid his hands into his pockets and moved away from her.

“Is this the part where you push me away?” Aedion asked dryly, taking the several steps back to lean against the hutch once more.

“What? No, that’s not what I—“

The faintest glint in his turquoise eyes told her she’d hit him right where it hurt; that her words had landed a mark she never knew he had. Despite that small tell, he rested lazily against the furniture, his posture riddled with defensive arrogance.

“Stop it, Lysandra. If you’re about to give me some monologue about the mission and how I’m nothing to you; how I’m an assignment and nothing more, you can save it.”

Fresh tears, although it was nearly impossible to tell where one set stopped and another began, started to roll down her cheeks. Lysandra hated how much having her own words thrown at her stung. This must have been the Aedion that Lorcan had alluded to; the one Aedion warned her about when he said he didn’t like who he was. Her heart clenched at the difference in the man before her, especially upon realizing her words were the ones that brought this side of him out.

“That’s... it’s not...” she trailed off, her emotions choking off any productive speech.

“Actually, maybe this could be good. You know, for when you have to announce that to the court. Give me your best show, Lys. Make it really good, too,” he dared smoothly with a jerk of his chin. “Go on; I want to believe you.”

A soft whimper left her mouth. Lysandra raised her hand to stifle a sob, shaking her head as she took him in. She struggled to reconcile this version of Aedion with the one she knew, and it was tempting to simply flee the scene rather than try. Her feet wouldn’t carry her off.

“Do your worst, Lysandra. Tell me that I don’t matter to you; that you never cared about me. Make me believe that you manipulated my trust so blatantly, and I never saw it coming. Lie to me, baby,” he urged, his tone venomous.

The tears poured in earnest now, leaving her cloudy and short of breath. A sob tore through her chest, and Lysandra lowered her hand there to try and pace her breathing.

“I...” she trailed off, taking a couple of deep breaths in a failed attempt to steady her emotions. The sound of her broken voice seemed to strike true at the Aedion she knew; if the unsteadiness of his facial expression was any indication. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

Her words must have snapped whatever trance Aedion had found himself under, and his face crumpled as she continued to sob. Her backside had barely hit the cushion of the nearby armchair before he’d traveled the short distance and was on his knees before her, cupping her face gently in his large hands. Lysandra wanted to be angry, wanted to shove his petty comforts away, but she found that she simply couldn’t.

“Gods, I’m an asshole,” he muttered, bringing his forehead to rest against hers. His thumbs resumed their attempts at drying her cheeks. “I’m sorry. My mind is all over the place, and I’m taking it out on you. I don’t want us to fall apart now. There’s too much at stake.”

That hadn’t been the right thing to say, and she found herself leaning abruptly away from him. “Oh, you realized the risk to the mission and want to be agreeable now? How convenient,” she spat.

Aedion’s eyes tracked every movement on her face, the same look of devastation etched into his features.

“Of course not,” he breathed, shaking his head gently to prove his adamance. “I’m not talking about the mission right now. I’m talking about us; me and you, what we have. I don’t want to turn our backs on this.”

Lysandra lowered her forehead to his, the intense emotions softening her quickly to the sincerity in his voice.

“Please don’t ask me to leave you,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers delicately. “Just— give it some time. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

“Okay,” she whispered back as she leaned into him more heavily.

Aedion’s lips closed on hers urgently, igniting a fire that had been dormant beneath all her panic and heartbreak. Somehow, it seemed like she could never be close enough to him, and she longed to feel the warmth of his skin pressed against hers.

One of his hands moved into the hair at her nape, angling her head back slightly so that he could claim her fully. Lysandra whimpered into his mouth, earning a curse from her partner. She made room for him between her legs, and he pressed his body into her, the both of them grasping at each other’s shirts to discard them as quickly as possible. Aedion stood to rid himself of his pants and boxers; taking Lysandra’s hand to encourage her to stand and removing hers as well.

Grasping her by the rib cage, he gently lifted her body to his. Lysandra wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, circling her arms around his neck and burying her fingers in his long hair. She couldn’t think beyond the feel of his hands clutching her back and his mouth moving against hers. Aedion carried them over to his bed and knelt at the edge of the mattress to lower them both gently.

So many emotions, ripe and all-consuming, exploded in Lysandra’s chest at his tenderness. Another sob forced its way out of her chest, and Aedion immediately pulled away, sliding over to her side to give her room. She appreciated his consideration of her headspace, but she regretted the loss of his warmth immediately. He propped his head on his palm, using his free hand to turn her face delicately toward him.

“I’m sorry, love,” he whispered. The caress of his voice soothed her more than he knew. “I hate that I piled more on your shoulders.”

Lysandra shook her head back and forth, her brow furrowed as she collected herself enough to explain. “That’s not it. We’re both going through our fair share, and I know I asked a lot of you.” She brought her hand up to trace his chain, eventually resting her hand on the side of his neck. Her voice was timid when she gathered her nerve. “I love you, too, Aedion.”

His eyes shined at her admission, a smile blooming across his tan face. It was softer than usual, fond even, and the sight of it made her throat constrict.

“I’m scared of what that means for us; how he could use it to his favor. That’s why I’ve kept it—“

“Me too,” he breathed, saving her from having to explain her reasons. Of course he understood. Didn’t he always?

The delay grew intolerable, so Lysandra lifted her head to press her lips to his. Aedion grunted his approval, angling his mouth over hers and resuming the urgency from a few minutes before. His fingers glided across her skin to find her waist, causing her to arch into his touch as if pulled by some invisible tether.

Their movements were deliberate, nearly automatic as they gave into the repressed intensity of everything they felt for each other. Lysandra rolled toward him to press her body against his, throwing her leg over his hip to lie as tightly to his warmth as possible. Aedion groaned as he gripped her thigh and hiked her knee slightly higher for better access. Their hips rocked against each other, and at feeling his hardened length between their two bodies, Lysandra’s body lit up with wildfire.

She couldn’t stand the separation any longer, especially with their fresh declarations hanging in the air of Aedion’s bedroom, and reached between them to line him up with her entrance. Their kiss was interrupted by their collective gasps; Lysandra’s extended by the feel of Aedion’s hand sliding roughly along her thigh to find its home against her hip. His grip anchored her against him, resisting the back and forth motion of his hips as he moved in and out of her.

With surprising speed, Lysandra felt herself quickly approaching release. Aedion maintained a consistent rhythm to the rolling of his hips, the length of him gliding along the top of her opening in a way that delicately teased her clit each time he rocked backward. Rather than trying to resume their kiss, she tucked her face into the crook of his neck as she quickly fell apart. Her head was cradled by the bicep of the arm he wrapped beneath her, his chest swallowing each of the sounds that fell from her lips.

“I’m close,” she whined, a thin layer of sweat covering her entire body.

Aedion maintained his pace, tucking his face down into her neck to place a warm kiss behind her ear. Lysandra was clutching his shoulder blades, and she knew if she were to look, his skin would be littered with small crescents from the impressions of her fingernails. If he felt any pain at her tight grip, he gave no indication. In fact, his husky moans seemed to point to the complete opposite.

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me,” he murmured into her neck.

One more thrust was all it took. What felt like a year’s worth of muscle tension left her body all at once, her teeth digging gently into the skin around his collarbone to ground her through the wave of pleasure. Her cries were barely coherent against his skin.

Aedion’s rhythm never faltered. His lips traced the side of her neck in a most delicate torture, following the same path in reverse until he took her earlobe gently between his teeth. His forehead fell to rest against her shoulder, a growl erupting from him as she clenched in the aftershocks of her release.

The tension in her core began to return, regardless of the fact that Lysandra would have considered it impossible just moments before. She placed warm, wet kisses to his neck and the underside of his jaw, basking in the sound of his rough grunts and moans as he chased his own pleasure. At the feel of her lips against his skin, Aedion adjusted her thigh even higher, pinning it against his side with his forearm and gripping her ass tightly.

She leaned her head back to capture his mouth, and Aedion kissed her with matched intensity. It was thorough, all tongue and teeth, interrupted by each of their sounds flowing through his bedroom. Lysandra felt Aedion grow impossibly harder inside her, and judging by that and his louder moans, she knew he wasn’t far from release. He pulled his lips from hers once more to tuck his face into her shoulder.

“Lysandra,” he moaned, his breath fanning over her chest. “I want to feel you one more time. Can you give me one more, love?”

She could only whimper in response. Her impending release competed with any sensible answer to his question. At her non-answer, Aedion snapped his hips more roughly into hers. Both of them were dissolving rapidly against the other; Lysandra’s tighter grip earning a hiss from her partner.

Lysandra cried out in earnest then, her face screwed tightly in pleasure. She clenched her teeth as she put all her focus toward the tension in her core.

“Aedion,” she cried desperately, each of his thrusts punctuated by her short whimpers.

His moans were guttural, and just as desperate, as his hips snapped into hers. With a hoarse cry to the gods, Lysandra was coming again, and Aedion was quick to follow her. His grip was bruising as he pressed into her as deeply as possible, her name rolling off his lips repeatedly where her neck met her shoulder.

The only sounds that followed were their harsh breaths into the quiet room. Lysandra released the intense grip of her fingers to rub soothing circles across Aedion’s back. It took a moment for his muscles to finally relax, his grip on her softening and rubbing softly to soothe any potential hurt. His lips pressed gently to her temple as their chests continued to heave, Lysandra humming in contentment at his affection.

A few minutes of easing each other down passed before Lysandra finally felt compelled to speak.

“It’ll all be okay, right?”

His lips found her forehead, lingering there until his response had them brushing against it. “It has to be.”

—

Lysandra allowed herself to sleep a little later than usual the next morning. She was exhausted; partly from the emotions of the day before, and partly because she and Aedion had spent a good portion of the night wrapped around each other. The two of them would doze off, only to find each others’ bodies across the bed in their sleep. They were equally to blame for awaking the other on those occasions, taking the opportunity to make love lazily between the sheets.

Despite her adamant desire for Aedion to flee Terrasen, she breathed a sigh of relief each time she awoke to find him in bed with her. She wasn’t naive enough to believe things could carry on the way they had been up to that point, and she knew everything would come to a head sooner rather than later. For now, though, she decided to cling to the comfort of his continued presence while she mentally prepared to act as if nothing was amiss around Arobynn and the rest of the team.

Lysandra stretched dramatically, the lingering soreness in her body a bittersweet reminder of she and Aedion’s night. She glanced over to find Aedion’s pillow empty, and her heart started to thunder in her chest. Had he changed his mind? Did he decide to leave Terrasen after all?

A quick visual scan of the room eased her rising nerves. The large suitcase she had pulled from the his closet the night before was still tossed haphazardly across the floor, and his closet door was open to reveal the chaos she’d created. Guilt quickly replaced the relief she felt at seeing the items strewn about. She admonished herself for feeling that way, when it should have been ideal to find that he’d fled to safety. Instead, she’d been flooded with relief that he may be simply reporting early with the Bane.

She threw her hair into a high bun and threw on her most comfortable slacks with a warm sweater. While getting ready, the kitchens sent up a thermos of coffee and a plate of scones, and Lysandra’s stomach growled violently at the smell. She grabbed the thermos and one of the scones and headed down toward the garage. Aedion would probably admonish her for not calling to have Lorcan escort her, but she felt like she could handle a walk through the palace without a chaperone. The men in her life were no better than mother hens as it was.

“Miss,” a voice announced from behind her, “Miss!”

She turned to see a palace Guard running over the ornate carpet, his chest heaving as he approached. Once he stopped, he promptly straightened his posture and his uniform.

“I apologize for being so curt, but I have time-sensitive news. You are Miss Ennar, yes?”

Lysandra nodded, confused by the Guard’s urgency.

“I went up to his Highness’ quarters and thought I’d missed you entirely. I was hoping to catch you in the garage, but—“

“You said it’s time sensitive?” Lysandra interrupted. Her stomach was turning as it was without his rambling.

“Yes, of course. My apologies. I’m to inform you that you have a visitor. I don’t have much context, I’m afraid, but they’re being escorted to the Emerald Drawing Room by the Lords Moonbeam. Commander Salvaterre will meet you there.”

“A visitor? I wasn’t expecting anyone, least of all here.”

“I understand, Miss. Commander Salvaterre will be able to provide more information, I’m sure. I was only given the most pertinent.”

“Okay,” she conceded, blinking away her confusion. Considering she had no clue who could be trusted around her, she schooled her face into neutrality to avoid giving herself away.

As they walked, Lysandra sent an email to her colleagues from her phone, letting them know she would be “offsite” for the morning. Her stomach sank as she assured them she would be in the office by the afternoon. Until she knew who her visitor was, she wondered if it had been appropriate to make such promises.

They were first to arrive in the room, so Lysandra took it upon herself to claim one of the armchairs while she waited. The Guard stood near the door to vet anyone who tried to enter the room. The events of the last months had made her paranoid, and she couldn’t help but hope that the Guard was on her side of things. He’d given her nothing to the contrary, but if he was good at his job, he wouldn’t. She shook off the unproductive spiral.

Lorcan arrived next with a large paper cup of coffee in hand. He looked tired; dark circles beneath each of his dark brown eyes and his tan complexion paler than usual. Lysandra worried what this mission was doing to him.

“Lys,” he greeted, managing a small grin for her benefit.

“Morning, Commander,” she teased. His grin twitched infinitesimally at that.

“I wasn’t sure I would be able to join this morning given the impromptu nature of this visit, but I’m glad I didn’t have to ‘throw you to the wolves’, so to speak.”

“Clever,” she deadpanned, picking up on his subtle reference of the twins.

The self-satisfied smirk she expected didn’t appear. Her stomach dropped at the implications of Lorcan’s ego leaving the building.

“Look, I don’t know where to start. I have no idea what you know or—“

Lorcan was interrupted by the brisk opening of the door. Lysandra’s throat constricted at the sight of one of her colleagues from the Keep, Caio, who worked mostly behind the scenes gathering intel for several missions at any given time. He was also one of their most skilled in combat and defense, meaning he was usually a fly on the wall for back-up when needed. Although she didn’t work directly with him often, she would know his face anywhere. Arobynn had carefully selected Caio for all of Evangeline’s transport to and from her school. Due to his sheer competence, Arobynn didn’t have to sacrifice any additional man power to ensure her safety. Her blood ran cold at this intentional meeting rather than simply seeing her at the Keep.

“Good morning, Lysandra,” he greeted with a dip of his head. “Lorcan.”

The Commander nodded his head in return, and Lysandra’s snapped her head in his direction. He didn’t acknowledge her.

“What are you doing here, Caio?”

The words were out of Lysandra’s mouth before she could think better of them. Was this some kind of threat? Was Arobynn trying to show her that he could reach her anywhere? Maybe it was a subtle reminder of her task, with Caio as Arobynn’s contingency plan.

The man opened his mouth to speak, but the door opened once more. She heard Fenrys’ enthusiastic voice before she saw the twins. They appeared to be alone until they walked into the room and the blond moved his large form to the side to reveal their charge. Lysandra was on her feet in milliseconds.

“Eva,” she breathed, tears springing to her eyes.

“Lys!” Evangeline squealed eagerly, her short legs carrying her in small, quick steps over to her sister.

Her small arms wrapped around Lysandra’s waist with impressive strength for a 10-year old girl. Lysandra wrapped her arms around her head, cradling her against her body as tears rolled down her face. She wasn’t scheduled to the home for a couple of weeks, and her early arrival made Lysandra’s blood run cold as she remembered all of Arobynn’s threats.

The girl seemed like she was unharmed; totally unfazed by the heavy air in the room. Through her emotions, Lysandra struggled to mediate the details of her current situation. It didn’t make sense for Caio to bring Evangeline to the palace if Arobynn meant to threaten her, and it definitely didn’t make sense for Lorcan to assign the Moonbeams to her detail so casually.

Said twins moved forward to sit on a small chaise nearby, reluctant to be beyond a certain proximity from their charge. She knew they weren’t insinuating a threat in Lysandra, but she was pleased to see they were taking such care as if threats could be around any corner. If nothing else, she didn’t trust that Caio wasn’t a threat himself; despite his history with chauffeuring her sister.

“I was hoping someone here could tell me that exact thing,” Caio replied in reference to her earlier question. His eyes scanned the room, but no one took the bait. Lysandra continued to look at him as if he were boring her to tears.

Caio’s eyes landed on Lorcan and held his stare. The tension was palpable in the quiet room until Connall turned his head to excuse the palace Guard. He’d been long since forgotten by everyone else, so Lysandra appreciated the twin’s continued vigilance. She kept her eyes scanning the space between Caio and the Commander. Her patience was all but exhausted.

“So, you’re who’s been working with Lorcan, then,” she stated. There was no hesitation in her voice.

Caio, to his credit, nodded meekly. Lorcan’s face gave nothing away as she scanned his face, but she didn’t exactly expect much either. His insistence on keeping the identity of his source was for their safety, so if Caio was willing to expose himself, she supposed it was his own business.

“I would appreciate all of your discretion,” he added. “As you can imagine, it’s taken years to infiltrate Arobynn’s systems and his trust.”

Everyone nodded their assent, but it did nothing to alleviate the tension in the room. Evangeline stood with her arm wrapped around Lysandra’s waist, unsure of what moves she was allowed to make. There were so many things Lysandra wanted to say, so many questions she wanted to ask, but she knew it wasn’t suitable for her younger sister’s ears.

As if sensing her apprehension, the golden twin hopped to his feet and walked over to her little sister. Evangeline’s eyes grew larger at his approach, and a deep blush covered her cheeks. Oh boy, Lysandra thought, the last thing she needed was Eva’s broken heart at the hands of a Moonbeam. He assumed an almost regal tone of voice, offering his arm to her as an escort.

“Miss Evangeline,” he began, “it is customary to begin a stay with the royal family with a guided tour of the Palace and grounds.” His dark eyes flicked up to meet Lysandra’s, who nodded subtly in permission. “Would you allow Connall and me to show you around?”

Evangeline swallowed thickly with nerves, looking equal parts nervous and eager to spend the morning anywhere with Fenrys. Those eyes turned to peer into Lysandra’s face for permission, and she nearly chuckled at how much the simple look communicated. Her sister’s shoulders relaxed once she agreed, turning to Fenrys and reaching up to wrap her forearm around his.

Once the door clicked closed, Lysandra’s attention landed immediately on Caio and Lorcan. The two men were communicating seemingly through nothing but loaded looks, and she was growing weary of it.

“Why is Evangeline home?” Her voice was quiet, but the tension was impossible to miss.

Lorcan scoffed from somewhere behind her, but she ignored him.

“You weren’t scheduled to pick her up for weeks. Did Arobynn send you early?”

“No— no. This has nothing to do with Arobynn, to my knowledge. All I know is that Salvaterre called me in the middle of the night and demanded that the trip occur immediately. I’ve been on the road since 2AM.”

Before she could demand more answers, Caio was reaching into the interior pocket of his sport coat. Lysandra tensed, immediately on the defense, but all he produced was a small box. She relaxed at seeing the seemingly benign object in his hand. Lorcan’s deep voice sounded throughout the room next, his tone dry and serious.

“Lys, I’m hoping you can help me fill in some blanks.” She turned to look toward him. “As it stands right now, we have an agent who has gone rogue. I’m hoping you can provide some context.”

“Why would I be able to do that? Who is it?”

Lorcan balked at the idea that she was none the wiser, his eyes wide and shoulders tense. There was a pregnant pause that followed her words, and it was nearly eating her from the inside out. The man pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, steeling himself to respond.

“Ennar, it’s Aedion. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

Heat rushed to the surface of her skin, a thin coat of sweat erupting across the small of her back. Her breathing grew more shallow as she fought to process what he was telling her, but for the life of her, it wouldn’t register.

“I was with him all night,” she argued.

“Was he there when you woke up this morning?”

“Well, no, but—“

“I have something for you,” Caio interrupted, causing Lysandra to spin in his direction.

Regardless of his connections to Lorcan, her colleague had some nerve to interrupt an incredibly delicate exchange. She stared him down as he approached, his arm extended to offer the small box. His nod prompted her to open it, and her heart beat erratically at the contents.

“Where did you get this?”

“The box was given to Annie to pass to me. We stopped to pick it up before coming here.”

His face was earnest, but all Lysandra could see was blinding, blood red rage.

“Is this some kind of threat?” she spat, unable to extend the benefit of the doubt.

She eased the box onto the nearby table, her muscles winding tightly like a snake poised to strike. The man only shook his head, confusion clouding his features. She didn’t give him time to respond.

“What the fuck is going on? I swear to the gods if Arobynn has done a fucking thing—“

Her words were interrupted by her actions; overriding everything she originally planned to say. She lunged for Caio suddenly, unable to hold her temper any longer. The man moved to evade her attack, but her momentum was halted by an arm around her waist before she made it to him. Lorcan.

“Lorcan,” she growled, willing to launch herself at the commander, too if the situation required it. “Let me go.”

“Ennar, cool it.”

Deciding that reasoning with Lorcan was a lost cause in her state, she refocused her efforts on freeing herself from his grasp. She knew she appeared as chaotic as her brain in that moment, but pride and self-preservation had no home there. With as much strength as she could muster, she angled her foot to kick backward toward the inside of his knee. Her kick landed its mark, causing Lorcan to stumble.

He barked a string of curses through his pain, but much to her frustration, his grip faltered only slightly. In fact, it served to allow him the opportunity to adjust his grasp and secure an even tighter hold on her. Lysandra had many tactical skills, but even she had to admit her size disadvantage against the giant of a man wrangling her. She abandoned her physical efforts temporarily to address Caio again.

“He never takes them off,” she snarled through clenched teeth. “How the fuck did you get them? Do not make the mistake of **lying to me.”

He stayed so annoyingly placid, making her feel like a child throwing a tantrum. “Like I said before, I got the box from Annie. Neither of us knew what it contained. Aedion delivered it to her personally this morning.”

Lorcan was the next to speak. “Lysandra, I’m going to let you go, but I need you to sit down. There’s a lot of information floating around, and it’s plenty to get my head around already.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth in fear of escalation. Lorcan sat in the chair near hers, gesturing toward Caio to have a seat as well. Despite Lysandra’s outburst, he didn’t seem apprehensive to do so.

“I think some context could help here. Since you know we’re working together, there’s more you should know about Caio.”

Lysandra sat up straighter, curiosity taking the place of her rage; for the time being, anyway.

“There’s still a lot to figure out here,” he continued, gesturing in a circle between them, “but we’ll get no closer to that by ripping each other apart.”

The two of them nodded as if being scolded by their father for engaging in too much horseplay.

“Lys, his name isn’t actually Caio. That’s the name he took when he began collecting intel on Arobynn Hamel’s movements. This is Vaughan. He’s one of my oldest colleagues and friends, and I would trust him with my life. I believe you can do the same.”

She gaped at her friend, amazed at how thoroughly they’d managed to keep Caio— no, Vaughan’s— identity a secret. Lorcan went on to explain his assignment, how even the other members of the court were ignorant of his placement. His role as someone very much in the background had been entirely intentional, and the others thought he’d taken a private security job a couple of hours outside of Orynth. Lorcan had worried that if too many people knew of his actual assignment, the odds increased that he could be compromised unintentionally.

It surprised her to find out that Vaughan had been the one to notify Lorcan of Lysandra’s continued employment at the Keep. Once he’d been present for enough conversations to realize Aelin and Lysandra had history, he recommended that they consider the potential of an alliance with her. In all honesty, she had always assumed the court had stumbled upon her employment status through the grapevine, and the strategy had followed.

Finally, she nodded in acknowledgement of the information. Her focus shifted to Vaughan who sat in his armchair looking as agreeable as ever. She had to appreciate his ability to adapt.

“What else do you know about Aedion? Why was he at the Keep?”

“I don’t have details. I didn’t ask any questions for fear of tipping anyone off. It’s not like me.”

Lysandra traced the border of her lips absentmindedly as she considered his words. For a second, she was hopeful that Aedion had come to his senses and fled Terrasen, but that theory didn’t sit right. He wouldn’t leave his dog tags in the custody of Arobynn’s personnel. What would be the significance of that? She turned to Lorcan.

“What did he say to you when he showed up at your rooms last night?”

“Very little,” he admitted begrudgingly. “He had a certain urgency about him and said he had a lot to take care of through the night. He just kept insisting that Evangeline be accounted for and assigned protection. That’s all he would tell me.”

She considered that for several moments. So much of it seemed erratic and impulsive; none of which was like Aedion Ashryver on a molecular level. It didn’t make sense. The subtle shine of the brushed metal caught the corner of her eye, and she dared another glance at the small box. The panic that had taken her upon initially seeing them threatened to capture her once more until she realized the small slip of paper laying beneath them. She scrambled to pull it free, nearly spilling everything into her lap in her haste.

Tears sprang to her eyes at seeing the sharp, angular letters of Aedion’s handwriting. Something seemingly so inconsequential suddenly felt like a tether to him that she never knew she would need. She blinked against the blur of her vision to read the short note.

Love,

If you’re reading this, Evangeline has made her way to you. I promised to keep you and Eva safe, and I intend to keep that promise. In return, will you keep these warm for me? I’ll look forward to getting them back from you. That would mean we’ve made our way back to each other.

Yours,

Aedion

Lysandra didn’t bother trying to hide the tears steadily streaming down her face. She was relieved to know that Evangeline’s homecoming was indeed the result of good intentions rather than some sick power move by her boss, but she also found herself incredibly angry with Aedion for abandoning her after all the things he’d begged of her the night prior. And to leave without an explanation? No goodbye?

She stood abruptly, determined to figure out how things had shifted so quickly. It terrified her to think that Aedion’s actions could be motivated by interference from Arobynn, Tern, or any other of his lackeys vying for Arobynn’s approval. If that was the case, they needed to be acting sooner rather than later.

“Where are you going?” Lorcan asked, snapping her attention from her internal spiral.

“Back to Aedion’s rooms. Something doesn’t add up.”

She vaguely heard the two men exchange information. Something about Vaughan returning to the Keep to keep an ear to the ground. Lorcan scrambled after her, eventually falling into stride right next to her.

“Why did you agree?”

Dark eyes met hers, darting back and forth between her stare and the path in front of them. “What?”

“Why did you agree to Aedion’s demands? You’re our commander, right? Could you have refused him?”

He was quiet for some time. That was fine with Lysandra since they were arriving at Aedion’s door anyway, and she needed to unlock it. She immediately started to scan the space for any clues to Aedion’s whereabouts, growing progressively more frustrated as she saw nothing noteworthy.

Lorcan’s deep voice was rough once he deigned to speak. “I wouldn’t have been able to handle the guilt if something happened to you or Evangeline.”

“Hmm?” she questioned, the distraction causing her to forget her previous question to him.

“You asked why I agreed. I’ve seen men who were hellbent with purpose, and I saw that in Aedion last night. I didn’t want to deny his request and risk him going through with his plan anyway. The consequences could have been...”

Lysandra’s head snapped toward her friend as his words trailed off, taking in the far-off look in his eyes. If she wasn’t so determined to find a lead on Aedion’s whereabouts, she wouldn’t have been able to resist gripping Lorcan tightly in a hug. Their disagreement regarding the weight of his decisions and the impacts on his loved ones’ lives clanged through her brain and made her emotional all over again.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves as her eyes scanned the expanse of the small sitting area. They snagged on something on the small table near her favorite armchair; the chair where she would usually take breakfast each morning.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she approached to grip the small piece of paper. With a trembling hand, she raised it to read another note from Aedion; likely the one she should have seen first that morning. Of all mornings for her to sleep in, she thought.

Please trust me, Lys.

Keep practicing. I love you.

- Aedion

Lysandra found herself at a loss at what the fuck that was supposed to mean. The prince couldn’t have picked a worse time to be clever or cryptic. She only knew one person with any chance at all to help untangle the web before it got too intricate.

“Lorcan... we need Aelin.”

——————————————————————————

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“Pardon the interruption, sir,” he stated smoothly, dipping his head to Arobynn. The man bowed immediately, uttering a quick, yet reverent hello to his Majesty. Dorian’s attention shifted quickly to Lysandra. “Miss Olivia promised a dance earlier in the evening. I’ve come to take her up on that offer,” he stated, a mischevious glint in his eye. “That is, if she’ll have me, of course.”

Have him? The man was lucky that Lysandra didn’t take his face between her hands and kiss him right on the mouth for the rescue.

“Well, I am a woman of my word,” she drawled, offering a pointed look to Arobynn and hoping he picked up on her meaning.

Dorian cupped her hand gently, her long fingers draped over the side of his palm as he guided her to the dance floor. He gave her a quick spin before settling into the proper position and leading her through their dance. A smile pulled at the corners of Lysandra’s lips; partly out of relief from being freed of Arobynn’s company and partly because of how effortless she found Dorian’s company.

“You’re very brave,” she teased, laughing softly at his quizzical expression. “His Majesty dallying with the common folk? Whatever will the people of Terrasen think?”

He scoffed at that, holding loaded eye contact with her in the place of the eye roll that would likely follow such a statement.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Olivia,” he stated casually. The raven-haired king leaned close to her ear. “I prefer the ‘common folk’ over nobles any day.”

Lysandra gasped, feigning shock at such a bold declaration. “Does her highness, Princess Aelin know this?”

Dorian chuckled at her performance. “Absolutely not.” He spun Lysandra so that her back was to his chest, leaving an acceptable distance between their bodies, as he led them through another couple of steps. “I’m hoping to keep it that way,” he added, spinning her back around to resume their previous position.

A laugh, true and refreshing, bubbled out of Lysandra as Dorian led her. She had come quite a long way from that first formal dance with Aedion those months ago; proven by the fact that she had yet to step on or stumble over the king’s feet. She dared a glance out to the crowd and noticed numerous sets of eyes on them, but after their brief exchange, she found that she didn’t care.

“So, have you put any thought into my proposition?”

She glanced up into his face, momentarily confused by the question. A quick scan of her brain reminded her of the reference; his proposal that she join his court as a political strategist in Adarlan.

“I have to admit, your Majesty, I didn’t think that was a genuine offer.”

“Why else would I have mentioned it?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted,”maybe to antagonize your fiancée.”

Dorian threw his head back as he laughed. “That’s fair; but not the case. I do hope you’ll consider it.”

Lysandra’s eyes scanned his face for any evidence that he was teasing her, but she found nothing. The man barely knew her; had only spent a couple of days with her, so it seemed farfetched that he would offer such a position. When she showed no indication of a response, Dorian continued.

“I could keep you safe; you and your family,” he explained, his blue eyes staring intently into her face to convey his meaning. “No one would dare move on you if you held a seat in Adarlan. Just something to consider.”

It was beyond tempting to entertain it as a true option, but she didn’t dare hope for such a perfect end to her mission. To be able to end it, resign from Arobynn’s employment, and gain security of that magnitude seemed far too good to be true.

“I don’t know,” she lamented. “The logistics of that decision seem a little out of reach in this season of life.”

Having this conversation in such generic terms was a challenge in and of itself. Dorian remained patient with her, but he was undeterred.

“I acknowledge it could be complicated. But, if I may point out, you are far more than what they allow you to be. Surely, you know that.”

She did. She’d spoken to that very point for years, so she didn’t dare pretend he was incorrect. Arobynn and her colleagues had always tried to keep her in a certain box, which was why it seemed way too good to be true to be offered an out.

“I’m honored, truly,” she managed, squeezing his shoulder lightly in hopes of conveying her appreciation. “I promise to think on it.”

The king’s smile was breathtaking. “Good,” he breathed. “You would be compensated well, obviously, and I would arrange for you to have your own quarters in Adarlan. You’re welcome to visitors at anytime.” He offered a wink to that point. “And you would be free to travel as you wish. I know you have some stock in Terrasen at the moment.”

Lysandra shook her head in disbelief, glancing toward their feet as she fought the slight sting in her eyes at such a generous offer. Her mission had caused her more stress in mere months than she had experienced during the rest of her life combined, but she had come to know some of the world’s kindest people in the process. It was such a stark contrast to what she perceived the world to be due to her previous circumstances, and the reminders still gave her whiplash at times.

The song ended before she could respond, but Dorian didn’t pressure her for an answer. He lowered her hands gently to her sides as he bowed in thanks, and just like that, he was gone. Lysandra resumed her place on the outskirts of the room, eyes scanning the space for the dazzling blue eyes she longed to see. When she found them, she offered Aedion a soft smile, and he promptly finished his conversation to join her. The prince greeted her with a steady hand on her back and a devastating smile, and an intense sensation swelled within her chest. She wasn’t entirely sure what to call it, but it was starting to feel a lot like home.

—

There was a time where Lysandra may have said that Aedion Ashryver couldn’t possibly be more attractive; that surely, he had peaked. Time and time again he’d proven her wrong in various ways, and the way he looked in that moment was another example. The prince was on his back against the pillows, naked save for his dog tags and the sheet draped across his middle. His blond waves fanned around his head, falling slightly across his brow as he turned his head to look at her.

He took her hand in his, lacing and unlacing their fingers as he toyed with it casually. Lysandra’s head rested on his chest as she peered into his face, and the way he looked at her made her feel a little drunk with emotion. The man’s other hand was drawing soft lines up and down the column of her spine, covering her entire body in goose flesh.

“Tonight was fun,” he murmured before placing a lingering kiss against her forehead. “Although, I can’t believe you seduced me into the Study. Could have been quite the scandal.”

Lysandra felt, rather than saw, the smile stretch across his face. She managed a slight lift of her chin to offer a glare at his teasing, but the prince only chuckled and claimed her lips once more.

“You know,” she started between kisses. “You logic would be far more sound if I had even known the Small Study existed in that area of the palace. I’m not taking the blame for your deviousness.” Lysandra intensified the kiss as she rolled to straddle his hips. “I will take blame for seducing you once we made back here, though.”

Aedion pinched her sides playfully as he rolled them, leaning over her on his elbow. “I’ll accept that compromise.” His eyes scanned her face, but she couldn’t quite place for what he was searching. He kissed her reverently before pulling back with a more serious expression.

“How are you? You had a lot to work through tonight between Kyllian, Arobynn, and Dorian’s offer.”

“Okay,” she assured him, but she wasn’t quite sure how much she truly meant it. She was exhausted to her bones. “Dorian’s offer is so generous, but I hadn’t even begun thinking about the actual logistics. I decided that’s something to think through after a strong night’s sleep and a coffee,” she added light-heartedly.

Aedion chuckled, his attention never wavering as he waited for her to continue.

“Kyllian... he’s someone I’ve been processing a bit already. Knowing what I knew and that you see him regularly wasn’t my favorite thing in the world, but I figured if it was hard on anyone, it would be you.”

Aedion thought on that for a minute, looking at the sheet near her head while he gathered his words. “Once upon a time, it was hard. Really hard. Our assignments didn’t stop after we decided to split, so the close quarters made me want to crawl out of my own skin. I was fucking miserable to be around.” He huffed a laugh through his nose as he regained eye contact with her. “It’s been some time now that I’ve made my peace with it. I want him to be happy.”

“That’s big of you. I have to say I was surprised he mentioned you having a type in front of me. You know, considering the reason you split is because he’s not ready to be out publicly.” Lysandra bit her lip, afraid that maybe she said too much or pushed too far. That was information he hadn’t shared with her personally, and she feared he would bristle at the mention.

The prince blew out a breath through pursed lips. “I’m not,” he said, confusing Lysandra with the implication. He didn’t leave her in the dark for long. “Kyllian recently got engaged. To a man.”

“Aedion,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Really, I’m fine. When I heard the news, my pride wanted to hurt, but that journey is so personal. It didn’t take me long to talk myself out of that.” He took a steadying breath. “We haven’t talked about it, but I don’t know that he ever would have been ready with me. A life with the prince of Terrasen isn’t as desirable as people like to think; with all the publicity and social posturing.”

Lysandra reached toward his face, brushing his hair behind his ear as she scanned his expression. He gave nothing away. She sat up slightly to press a lingering kiss to his mouth, one he returned in kind. Aedion chased her lips as she lay back down, causing her to giggle softly as she pressed her index and middle fingers to his mouth to interrupt his pursuit.

“I don’t know,” she murmured around her smile. “I find it pretty easy to like you. I think I’d find myself pretty lucky to have you like me long-term.”

Aedion beamed at her, undeterred by her fingers in completing his pursuit of her mouth. He kissed her with intention until he pulled away and left her breathless. “Oh, I like you,” he promised. “I’d like you forever if you’d let me.”

—

The pair woke before the sun the next morning, much to their chagrin, but there was a silent agreement of nerves as the culprit. Aedion ordered a large carafe of coffee from the kitchens, and the two of them wrapped themselves in a blanket on the chaise as they woke up for the day. With the coffee came a copy of the local news, complete with a a headline on Page 1 regarding the princess’ engagement.

“News travels fast,” Lysandra rasped, her voice rough with disuse.

“You have no idea. I’m sure there’s all kinds of information in here.”

Lysandra watched as Aedion’s tired, turquoise eyes scanned the page. She was still a little too tired to participate wholly in the news, so she opted to lie back against his chest and rest her eyes. After some minutes, she felt the prince’s entire body tense beneath her, rousing her from her rest.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he sighed, folding the paper up and flopping it unceremoniously to the small table. “Just bullshit speculation that we’re all used to at this point.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” she argued, sitting up slightly to turn and face him. Aedion cupped her jaw with his hand and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead.

“Apparently there are some who are concerned about the implications of Aelin’s engagement to a king of a neighboring, powerful nation. The word ‘empire’ was thrown around quite a bit.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “If only they knew it was self-preservation, and not world domination, that motivated her.”

Aedion reached over to bring his coffee to his lips, taking a small sip as he nodded to her point.

“Well, very rarely does the Royal family get a say in all these rumors. It’s something we’ve learned to brush off. I find it much easier to do for myself than I do Aelin, though. She’s been through enough.”

“Right. The last thing she needs is another round of rumors to muck everything up even more. Imagine having to vehemently defend your engagement that’s not even real in the first place,” she mused.

Aedion placed his mug back on the table and gripped her upper arm gently to pull her into him. He rested his chin atop her hair as he spoke.

“It’s not for you to worry about, babe. She’ll be okay; she always is. You just focus on you and your meeting with Arobynn this morning.”

“Do I have to?” Lysandra lamented, earning a warm laugh and a tight squeeze from Aedion.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Fine,” she conceded, sitting up to initiate getting ready for the day. “But if it doesn’t go well, I’m blaming you.”

Turquoise and gold eyes shined up at her as he laughed. The sight was almost enough to make her call in sick and curl up on the chaise once again.

—

Lysandra arrived at the office earlier than usual. She appreciated the quiet of the Keep at such an early hour, but it was short-lived that day. Tern pulled in less than 30 minutes later, ruining Lysandra’s placid mood.

The man was still shameless in his close monitoring of her movements, but she was struggling, as of late, to care. She felt that his paranoia was rooted in feeling left out with Arobynn, if nothing else, considering he was used to being his right-hand man. All of their boss’ private meetings with her were getting under Tern’s skin, but as time passed, Lysandra felt it was more between the two of them than between Tern and herself.

The truth, if she was honest with herself, was that she didn’t have the mental capacity to track yet another person. She had made her peace with that.

What concerned her most was that Arobynn wasn’t present early that morning, despite their plans to meet first thing. Lysandra felt the usual dread and nerves associated with meeting with her boss, but the delay exacerbated them tenfold. After almost an hour, she decided to do some digging.

“Annie,” she called, walking toward the front of their office, “have you heard from Mr. Hamel this morning?”

Annie’s eyes sparkled up at her from her desk, as friendly as ever. “Morning, Lysandra. No, I’m sorry. I wondered if any of you had heard. It’s unlike him to be late.”

She considered that for a second before she responded. “No, nothing. If I hear from him, I’ll let you know. Would you do the same?”

“Of course! Oh, hey... I never got to thank you for the coffee you sent me a couple of weeks ago. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Are you kidding? I think you’re the sole reason this office doesn’t catch fire most days. You deserve to hear it more than you do.”

A shy smile stretched across the assistant’s lips as she dipped her head to hide her blush. “Thanks. You should hear it more than you do, too.”

Lysandra patted her desk with a hand as she walked away, touched by the sincerity in Annie’s voice. “I guess we’ll just have to be sure and tell each other then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Sounds like a plan.”

—

Arobynn Hamel didn’t show his face at the Keep until an hour or so before lunch, not bothering to say a word to Lysandra about missing their scheduled meeting. She wasn’t going pursue him on the matter, considering she almost always left their meetings overwhelmed. Instead, she worked through several of her cases that had been slightly neglected in favor of the Galathynius case, trying to be a fly on the wall until he deigned to speak to her.

Toward the end of the day, she had all but given up on the thought of them meeting. It was approaching the end of office hours, and since she arrived so early, she started to pack up her things to leave early. If he got pissed, she was happy to tell him there had been a spot in her schedule, with his name on it, that he failed to attend.

Just as she wrapped up her internal pep talk, her office phone rang. Annie’s extension flashed across the small digital screen, and she picked up with a happy greeting.

“Hey Lys,” Annie said. “Got a second?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Um, Arobynn just called my extension and asked me to check to see if you were still here. He seems really out of sorts, so I told him I would look around, but I wasn’t sure you would be available. Do you want me to tell him you’re already gone?”

“Why wouldn’t he just call me?” She asked rhetorically. “I’m sorry you got pulled in to take my inventory, Annie. When you say out of sorts, what do you mean?”

“I don’t know, exactly. A little erratic; very distracted. He didn’t mention anything out of the norm, otherwise I would give you a heads up.”

Lysandra loosed a loaded breath. “Better to just get it over with, I guess. Go ahead and call him back and tell him I’ll be there in 5 minutes. I’ll head to the restroom and pop into his office.”

“Okay.” The assistant sounded unconvinced, a little worried. “Do you want me to stay until you all are done if it runs over?”

“Oh. No, that’s not necessary, Annie. Thank you.”

She hanged up her phone gently as she pushed herself to her feet. Walking as quietly as possible to the restroom to avoid catching anyone’s attention, she locked herself inside and took several steadying breaths. An Ashryver pep talk was more than welcome, but time was limited already.

Since she was already inside the bathroom, she used the toilet and washed her hands. While over the sink she splashed cool water to her wrists, the inside of her elbows, and patted some into the skin of her neck. It helped to make her feel refreshed, but it was pretty worthless in steadying her nerves.

She dried off quickly and walked the rest of the way to Arobynn’s large office. She knocked as she walked inside, not pausing long enough to let her nerves get the better of her. Arobynn looked up as she approached, his eyes widening and hands gesturing for her to shut the door.

“Arobynn, what’s going on?”

“Shh— keep your voice down. The others are still around.”

“Okay,” she conceded, lowering her voice a fraction.

Arobynn shook his head and straightened his jacket, seemingly slipping back into his most natural persona. It was an odd thing to watch. Lysandra had never seen him anything but put together before.

“I apologize for missing our morning meeting. There was an urgent matter the lords wished to discuss, and it was rather non-negotiable. I meant to contact you, but it slipped my mind.”

“I understand,” she lied. His words did very little to calm her frustration at being left to wonder all day. “When we spoke last night, you said you had news. Did something change?”

“When we spoke last night, the primary angle was to target the media. The lords had strategically disseminated some information regarding the potential downfall of Aelin’s marriage to King Havilliard. The goal was to incite civil unrest, in which case the lords would act as mediators in addressing their concerns. They aimed to gather popular support of their shared governance that way.”

That certainly explained the information she and Aedion had discussed. She should have known they were behind it.

“I see. And what if Aelin didn’t back down? Did they really plan to go to civil war with Adarlan as an ally to Aelin’s side? That was never going to work out for them.”

“Not for them alone, no. However, in our discussions, they let me know they managed to secure an alliance with Queen Blackbeak should war become a real possibility. As a queen with experience, specifically in matters of civil war, she and her legions are invaluable resources.”

Lysandra felt a strange sense of pride at how effortlessly Manon ensnared the lords. She kept that pride strictly internal though, lest Arobynn decide he wanted to question her about her reaction. Before she could think of anything to say, Arobynn began talking once more.

“That being said, there wasn’t nearly the societal reaction to the news that the lords anticipated. Apparently, the people of Terrasen were quite charmed with Aelin and King Havilliard’s announcement, and very few of them see any true threat in their wedding.”

“Couldn’t the lords cultivate that behind the scenes? The same way they planted the seed in the first place?”

“In theory, yes. But that would take time; too much time. Now that Aelin is engaged, they’re feeling pressured to gain some favor in their direction. For all everyone knows, the two of them could plan a wedding within a fortnight, and everything we’ve planned up to this point would be moot. We don’t have time to create that level on unrest.”

“That’s why you were late. You all went back to the drawing board.”

Arobynn only nodded, and Lysandra’s heart began to race. The air in the room was suddenly more ominous, more spine-chilling.

“I’ve been back and forth with them all morning and all day. It took us quite some time to arrive at anything final with this being such a delicate situation.” Her boss paused to gather his thoughts, lacing his fingers across his chest as he sat back. Lysandra resisted the urge to scream at him to hurry up. “The lords are going to call another meeting with her to revisit the arranged marriage. Although there’s less unrest than they expected, they plan to do a bit of posturing with the help of the current media reporting. They’re going to re-present their option to marry me and allow shared governance of Terrasen, and if she refuses, they will tell her it would be an act of civil war considering the opinion of the people.”

“How do they plan to back all this up after the fact? Surely they’ll expect her to do some homework of her own. The woman would never lay down so easily.”

Arobynn let out a long-suffering sigh, and the implication had Lysandra’s skin erupting in goose flesh.

“I don’t know that they’ll give her that much time, Lysandra. They’ll pressure her for a decision within the meeting, otherwise, they’ll declare war. At that point, her life is very much in danger.”

“You agreed to all this? Arobynn, we’re in way too deep. This is treason.”

The man had the nerve to pinch the bridge of his nose as if she was the one who was out of her fucking mind. “I know that, pet, but we’re already implicated. If we back out now, they turn on us, and we’re surely all fucked. We have no choice.”

Yes we do, she wanted to scream. Just let me get everyone in a room, for fuck’s sake. She said none of that; only continued to gawk at Arobynn as if he’d sprouted another head right there before her.

“As you can imagine, it’s not even that straight-forward. Should we go to civil war, and Aelin’s life is taken...” Arobynn shuddered at the thought; the only sign of his existing humanity. “There are complications without an heir.”

Lysandra was transported to a past court meeting, after their meal at The Ferian, to a sound byte they’d listened to as a group with Arobynn’s voice saying:

“Should she refuse, and we explore the alternative plan, he is still a very real barrier in the absence of any heir."

And Lord Darrow’s reply.

"That's a bridge we shall cross when we arrive. I believe, between you and me, that's easily resolved.”

She blinked a couple of times as she arranged her thoughts. At the time the court thought he meant Rowan as her potential King Consort, since he wouldn’t be likely to take her death laying down. She assumed this was the complication Arobynn now referred to, but she had a feeling Dorian wouldn’t be considered “easy to resolve” with regard to his standing. To prevent showing how much she knew, Lysandra instead pulled on her character as the naive agent.

“It seems as though things would be easiest without an heir. But even so, she could always choose to abdicate. That would leave things unchanged.”

Arobynn huffed a wry laugh, and Lysandra knew she wouldn’t like his reply. She rarely did. “You would think so, especially should something happen before she and the king are wed.”

“I do think so. Even if they were already wed, Dorian wouldn’t have claim to her throne without siring her heir.”

A deep, harrowing feeling enveloped Lysandra as a realization came into her mind. She shoved it down, refusing to believe it was anything more than her anxiety rearing its ugly head.

“You’re correct. Right now, the arrangement only works because Aelin is the direct heir, and the lords have all agreed that she’s unfit for the throne. Best case scenario, she agrees to their terms, and she marries me. The other alternatives are that she abdicates the throne to marry Dorian or that her life is threatened by civil war. With the former, the lords will remain uneasy because of her rank in Adarlan. They’ll only fear that she tries to reclaim Terrasen through his means.”

“So, essentially, the only way they’re truly satisfied is if she marries you? And if she doesn’t, they kill her?”

“You have a way of putting things quite plainly, don’t you?” Arobynn sneered.

“It’s about time someone does! You still haven’t walked me around this whole concept of the complications. You keep saying she can’t simply die, so what is it? What else do we have to manipulate and rip apart to make this happen for them; for you?!”

Arobynn’s face looked haunted as he looked into her eyes, and that feeling of dread from before returned. This time, it was accompanied by nausea and a slight tremble that she fought, unsuccessfully, to contain. A look like that on her boss’ face never let to anything positive.

“That’s what I’ve spent hours trying to work around today. The implications change the nature of our involvement, and I hoped to shield you from it if at all possible. At his point, I don’t see a way out, Lysandra.

“The alternative, should Aelin abdicate her throne, or die as a result of war, is that Aedion Ashryver becomes the heir to the throne. He’s a man several years her senior with multiple years of war experience and has successfully led special forces for the kingdom on numerous missions. He’s decorated, loved by the people of Terrasen, and a well-rounded diplomat. This same arrangement will not fly with him as King.”

“What are you saying?” Her voice was timid and breathy even to her own ears.

Again, echoing through her mind as she awaited his answer— “I believe, between you and me, that's easily resolved.”

“We have to eliminate Aedion Ashryver.”

Lysandra’s brain went entirely quiet, her bones seeming to turn into gelatin as his words sank in.

“Arobynn,” she whispered, barely aware of her own voice. “So we’re assassins, now? This cant be what we signed up for, right?”

“Lysandra,” he snapped, losing his patience. “You’re the one who wanted better work; to be involved in the larger missions. Do you think he’s the first target we’ve acquired? I can assure you he’s not; you’ve only been sheltered from the uglier aspects of missions like this. Well, here it is, pet. You wanted a seat at the table; take it.”

How she managed to keep the contents of her stomach contained was a wonder to her as much as anyone else. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, what he was asking of her, but she knew she could only do one thing to try to keep Aedion safe.

“I’ll take it,” she responded, her voice resolute. “Consider it done.”

—

The rest of their conversation was all a blur; merely a collection of vague snapshots and muffled words. Lysandra forced herself to walk slowly to her car rather than sprinting full-out as she desired. Annie was already gone, and she was grateful for that. The assistant would have picked up on her mood immediately.

The drive and all the security checkpoints to get into the palace seemed to drag as if passing twice as slowly as usual. She forced herself to remain patient with other drivers and the palace Guards, but her thread of patience was fraying quickly. Once parked, she walked purposely into the estate and directly toward Aedion’s quarters. She hoped her leaving late would mean he beat her there. Now that she thought of it, she hoped they had agreed to meet there in the first place.

After an eternity, she was throwing his door open. She found Aedion sitting at his desk, reviewing some type of report, and tears immediately ran down her cheeks. She never had a chance to stop them.

The prince looked over to her, momentarily confused by her loud and severe entrance. Before he could respond, she was opening his closet, rummaging furiously for a trunk, a suitcase, anything. She ripped through any small storage space she could find, finally locating a large suitcase and hauling it over to his bed.

“Lysandra!” She could barely hear him through her adrenaline. “Lysandra, baby! Stop!”

“There’s no time.”

His eyes looked her over for a couple of seconds before he gripped her by the upper arms.

“What is going on? Please, tell me what’s wrong so I can help.” His face crumpled upon seeing the tracks of her tears, but his hands remained on her arms, afraid she may scurry off again.

“Aedion, I can’t explain right now, so I need you to trust me. You need to leave Terrasen as soon as possible.”

Her partner chuckled humorlessly. “I’m not going anywhere, Lys; not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Aedion, please,” she shouted. “Either you leave, or I have to kill you.”

——————————————————————————

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The idea that the king of Adarlan was inviting her over so casually was a little surreal, but she appreciated the gesture. “I will. Thank you again for having me. I had a great time.”

“Good. Oh, and if you ever find the royal family of Terrasen to be a little arduous, Adarlan would love to have you.” A mirthful expression donned his handsome face, his stunning blue eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “I could always use another political strategist in my court, especially one with your cleverness and intuition.”

Lysandra’s cheeks burned at his praise, her heart swelling with an appreciation she would never be able to explain. For someone to appreciate her skills so readily when he had barely known her for a handful of days meant the world to her. All she had ever known was a career as an agent, so his offer in political strategy surprised her. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea.

“Not happening,” Aelin interrupted, her expression matching Dorian’s. “We’re pretty attached to her already, so we’ll take care in making sure she’s happy.”

Aedion took the opportunity to wrap his arm around Lysandra’s waist in a reassuring squeeze. It seemed as though he agreed whole-heartedly with his cousin.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Dorian conceded. “The offer stands, regardless.”

Lysandra could only nod in his direction, which was plenty considering Aelin was wrapping her arms tightly around his neck in farewell. The king chuckled slightly at her aggressive affection as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I’ll miss you, Ae. Try not to start too much trouble before I see you again.”

“I can’t make any promises,” she snarked as she pulled away. “So, I’ll see you in Terrasen next week?”

“Of course. I would never make you announce our engagement alone,” he teased.

Aelin rolled her eyes affectionately at her friend. “Wow. How did I ever get so lucky?”

—

Lysandra settled into her seat next to Aedion, leaning into his side as she typed an “urgent” text to Arobynn.

L: Don’t have much time. Boarding the plane from Adarlan and will arrive late. I need to speak with you ASAP tomorrow morning, especially before we meet with the team. I have some information you’ll want to bring back to the lords. Let me know where to meet you.

“Sound okay?” she asked, looking to Aedion as he finished scanning the message.

“Perfect.”

She hit send just as a banner notification popped up with a reminder titled, Eva 💛

“I thought you usually call Evangeline on Wednesdays?”

Anytime Aedion made mention of her sister, her heart swelled with affection. His mentioning her with an acknowledgement of their catch up ritual had it threatening to explode.

“Usually, yeah. Last week was hectic, so I had to reschedule. I’m sure she’ll fuss at me,” she replied, her words punctuated with an affectionate shake of her head.

“When you’re ten years old, getting blown off is quite the scandal.”

Lysandra huffed a laugh. “It is.” She considered her next question carefully, but she decided she had resisted the urge long enough. On their weekly phone calls, she had been able to artfully dodge any of Eva’s questions around her personal life, but the girl was only going to be satisfied with her redundant updates for so long. “I haven’t told her that you and I are working together, or anything else about us, for that matter. Would you maybe want to meet her? Not formally, obviously, but over the phone.”

Her nerves had her talking more than necessary, but if Aedion noticed, he spared her the judgment. His eyes were soft as he met her gaze, and a smile bloomed across his face.

“Yeah,” he breathed, “of course.”

Lysandra pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to contain her smile. “Okay... good.”

The prince shifted in his seat to settle his head against her shoulder, closing his eyes and pulling her hand between both of his. He nuzzled his face gently against her neck.

‘You smell nice.”

“Oh, thank you. I bathed today,” she deadpanned.

Aedion laughed, but it was interrupted by a long yawn.

“Wake me when we’re almost home.”

Home.

—

Lysandra had woken Aedion as promised when the pilot announced their descent over Orynth. He had slept like the dead, and as much as she would have loved to join him, her brain hadn’t cooperated. She reflected on their days in Rifthold, and initially, she was satisfied with the results of their trip. They had successfully gotten Dorian to agree to an arranged marriage with Aelin, and even though Lysandra had been ignorant to Manon’s invitation, the three young monarchs had developed a strategy going forward for Aelin’s safety. All around, they had done well to halt the lords of Terrasen and Arobynn Hamel in their tracks.

She usually got something akin to a high from an artfully solved dilemma, specifically when she had a hand in developing the strategy. Years upon years of pushing herself and proving her skill-level had made her that way, so the feeling of dread that immediately followed had been a little disorienting.

In the current scenario, the more successful they were, the closer she was to a fall from grace. Lysandra loved how working with Aelin’s court pushed her professionally, and she felt more connected to that group that she ever had with her colleagues at the Keep. For the first time in her life, she felt she knew what it was like to trust the people who worked alongside her.

She wasn’t naive or ignorant enough to assume the day would never come that this mission ended. The closest she had come to thinking about the logistics was the night before they flew to Adarlan, and Aedion had been the one to bring it up. Lysandra had been quick to redirect the conversation because the future still seemed a little far removed.

Maybe that was never true, and she had done well in convincing herself that it was. Admittedly, things were more complicated now that she and Aedion had crossed that proverbial line of intimacy in Adarlan. On top of that, she had just asked Aedion to meet her sister, for the gods sake. Nothing about introducing him to the single most important person in her life was the behavior of someone prepared to walk away from it all. She cursed her lack of forethought in presenting it to him, but her brain subconsciously refused to entertain anything about the possibility of Aedion being a temporary fixture in her life. How had she let herself get here?

Ruminating on it all had kept her eyes peeled until the Staghorn Mountains had come into view through the airplane window. Now she was trudging heavily next to Aedion toward his chambers, the long flight making her body stiff. He took her things from her once they entered his suite, instructing her to go sit in a plush armchair near the window. By the time she was settled, there was a light knock on the door; someone delivering a small pot of tea from the kitchens.

Aedion carried it over to the small table and sat in the chair adjacent to hers. Both chairs faced the window, yet were slightly angled toward the other, allowing them to chat while enjoying the view of the Staghorns. The tea was mild, perfect for the evening hour, and the heat of it soothed Lysandra’s nerves and body alike.

“Are you okay if I go ahead and call Eva? Before it gets too late?”

“Of course. Whatever works for you.”

Lysandra mindlessly scrolled to the appropriate contact and communicated who she was calling to the school’s operator on the other end. She placed her phone on speaker, and after only a few rings, Evangeline’s voice carried through the room. Longing crashed into Lysandra at hearing her little sister. It had been way too long since they had spent time together.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Eva.”

“LYS! I thought maybe you forgot. It’s late.”

“I know,” she replied, her heart a little broken. “I would never forget about you though.”

“Good. So what are you doing? What took you so long to call?”

She should have known her sister wouldn’t let her off the hook.

“I just got back from Adarlan, actually. The plane landed maybe half an hour ago, otherwise I would have called earlier. I went for work.”

“Oh. That’s kind of cool. Did you go by yourself?”

Lysandra looked over to Aedion, who wore an amused grin at Eva’s rapid questioning. She shot him a small eye roll at her sister’s nosiness.

“Mm, no. I went with my co-worker,” she replied, choosing to leave out the majority of the details of who all travelled to Rifthold. That wasn’t something she had the energy to unpack with such an inquisitive sibling. “We just started working together a couple of months ago. He’s been great, though.”

“Is he cute? What’s his name?”

Aedion’s right brow quirked up at the question, as if he was morbidly interested in hearing her response.

“He is,” she replied casually. Her sister was far too young for the details. “His name is Aedion. Aedion Ashryver.”

Silence filled the room for a few seconds while Evangeline processed the information. Her shrill voice caused both of them to jump once she found it.

“WHAT? Isn’t that— wait. YOU WORK WITH PRINCE AEDION?”

Lysandra bit the inside of her cheek to conceal her laugh, only made more difficult by the playful exasperation on Aedion’s face. She chuckled softly before she answered her sister.

“Yes. I can’t really get into the details, but we’re partners for the foreseeable future. He’s a really nice guy.”

“How could you work with him for TWO months and not tell me?”

She grimaced a little at the offense in her voice. That was a fair question.

“To be honest, I don’t know. I wasn’t sure how long it would last, really. But we’ve spent a lot of time together now, and I wanted you to know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I guess. So do you like him? Like, like him like him? You said he’s really nice.“

“Alright, enough with the questions, Eva. He’s here, by the way. Do you want to meet him?”

“Uhh, yeah I do. But, really! Tell me. Please, Lys.”

Aedion oriented his body a little more in her direction, eyeing her expectantly over the rim of his mug as he took a sip. She almost sent a vulgar gesture his way, mostly because she knew he was more than informed on the matter.

“He’s growing on me,” she replied dryly. Aedion winced as if she had wounded him. “Here, I’ll let you talk to him.”

She shoved the phone closer to him, and he reached out to grab it. His voice was polite and soft as he gracefully greeted Eva, and they shared casual conversation like he’d know her for years. Evangeline told him about her boarding school, how much she loved it, and how the only downside was that she didn’t get to see her sister as much. They discussed her favorite subjects and the book she was reading. The attention he paid in learning about her little sister was incredibly endearing.

“Oh, hey. Aedion, I gotta go. It’s getting close to bedtime.”

“I’m sorry I kept you. I’ll let you say bye to your sister. It was nice meeting you, Evangeline.”

“Wait, before you go. Be nice to Lys, okay? She’s my only family.”

“You have my word. I promise.”

Tears rimmed her lower eyelids as Aedion passed her phone back, an unreadable emotion on his face.

“Hello?” She thanked the gods that her voice didn’t shake.

“Hey, Lys. I gotta go because it’s bedtime. Are you still calling on Wednesday?”

“Of course, love. Get some rest. I love you.”

“Love you too! Bye!”

Lysandra ended the call and set her phone lightly on the table. A single tear finally slipped from her eye, and she hurried to brush it away. It hadn’t been quick enough to hide from Aedion though, who grabbed her hand and pulled it to prompt her to go over to him. She settled into his lap, her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“She’s a great kid. I really like her,” he said, wrapping her tightly in a hug.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She missed her so much, and after her thoughts on the plane, she was overcome with guilt. The idea that she was putting Evangeline in any kind of danger by involving herself with Aelin’s court was eating her from the inside out.

“She really is,” she breathed, tightening her arms around his shoulders.

“I get it, you know? Her being a little protective... I’ve felt that, especially when Aelin and I were younger. All that has been creeping back up on me as of late.”

Without even trying, Aedion made her feel seen, understood; as if he had plucked the sentiment straight from her brain. Although he and Aelin’s age gap was far smaller, he understood Lysandra’s emotions around her sister’s words better than anyone could. He had lived his entire life with a sense of obligation to ensure his little cousin’s safety, only for it to be threatened over and over again.

“I get that.” Her voice was quiet, timid. “And all I can think about is what if I mess this up? What if I leave her to navigate life completely alone?”

“Hey,” he chided, pulling back to look at her. “None of that, alright? Lysandra, you’re the most brilliant woman I have ever known. Evangeline couldn’t be in more capable hands.”

The prince pulled her into him again, and she readily tucked her face into his neck. He rested his cheek against her temple.

“Plus,” he began, mirth lacing his words. “If you really just fuck everything up—“ He paused to laugh as she swatted playfully at the back of his head. “I’m here. I’ll help you fix it; whatever it is.”

Any trace of amusement was gone as he finished, and Lysandra knew he meant every word. She pulled her face away from his neck to look at him, eyes shining.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you do. We’ve made a great team.” He pressed his lips to hers, bringing one of his large hands to cradle her face gently.

“Yeah,” she breathed against his lips. “We have.”

—

Anticipation had Lysandra rising out of bed far earlier than usual the next morning. She had fallen asleep with various hypotheticals dancing around in her head, despite the comforting warmth of Aedion's body pressed against hers. They hadn't shifted all night, which she assumed was the result of travel fatigue, and she had woken up with her face tucked tightly into his chest, her head beneath his chin.

Extracting herself from his grip to go get into the shower had been difficult at best. Her movements were careful and slow; an attempt to jostle the prince minimally and avoid waking him earlier than necessary. Padding on silent feet to the bathroom, she turned the water on and threw her hair into a bun atop her head.

She stood facing the hot water of the shower, letting the steam cocoon her as she tilted her head back to avoid getting her hair wet. Minutes passed as she let the water relax her stiff muscles; lost in thought once again. The sound of the shower door opening startled her, her eyes snapping open to find Aedion holding the door only wide enough to see her. His hair was wild from sleep, one turquoise eye squinting against the light and the other one squeezed tightly shut. Lysandra chuckled softly at the sight of him.

"Well, hi, Sunshine."

"Hey," he rasped sleepily. "can I come in?"

Lysandra took a step back to share the spray of water, reaching her hand toward him in invitation. His hand was heavy in hers as he stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind him. The low, indecent moan that rumbled through his chest at the warm water had her thoughts moving in a very different direction. Lysandra restrained herself, choosing instead wash her body as he joined the waking world.

"Why are you up so early?" he complained, his eyes still closed.

She huffed a laugh at her child-like partner. "I couldn't sleep. You could have stayed in bed a little longer, you know."

Aedion only grunted his disapproval, tilting his head back to wet his hair. He ran his fingers roughly through it before blindly feeling around for the shampoo. His brow furrowed in impatience as he batted around for the bottle. Lysandra couldn't resist the urge to mess with him and pulled the bottle off the small shelf of the shower. She wondered how long he would stubbornly feel around for it until his bright blue eyes snapped open incredulously, looking at the small shelf as if it had insulted him.

Her quiet laugh snapped his attention toward her, understanding flashing across his face. A smirk worked its way across his full mouth. Before she knew it, he had her wrapped tightly against him, the shampoo bottle pressed between them. He lowered his mouth to her neck, beads of water sliding from his face onto her shoulder.

"That was mean, Lys." He nipped gently at her neck, and her body arched into him without her permission.

"It woke you up, didn't it?" Her voice only held a fraction of the bravado she intended. His proximity interfered greatly with her plans.

"I suppose so," he breathed, his nose trailing along the column of her neck. He reached between them with one hand, gripping the shampoo bottle tightly. "Can I have this?"

Her only response was to release it, if only to eliminate the distance between their bodies. She expected him to pull away in favor of washing his hair, but the prince dropped the bottle unceremoniously to the stone floor of the shower. His attention seemed to reside with her alone.

"What am I going to do with you, Lysandra?" he purred, his hands gripping her hips and making her pliant against him.

"Whatever it is," she began, whimpering as his teeth pulled at her earlobe, "make it good."

A dark chuckle vibrated within his chest. He spun her around toward the shower wall, and she braced herself against it on her forearms.

"Do you know what still haunts me?"

She shook her head back and forth, not trusting herself to speak when his mouth was moving against the sensitive skin of her shoulder.

"That night when we got back from the Ferian... you asked for help getting out of that dress." One of his hands left her hip in favor of trailing his index finger slowly down her spine. The sensation had her back bowing, and Aedion hissed as her backside pressed against his length. He wasn't deterred from his ministrations. "I sent you away, but gods, Lysandra. That was the last thing I wanted." Once his finger reached the end of her spine, just above the swell of her backside, he gripped one of her cheeks tightly in his hand, angling her hips toward him further.

"Fuck," she muttered, resting her head back against his chest. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, seatbelting her against him by resting his hand on her opposite shoulder. His nose resumed its torture across her cheek and down her neck. "What did you want instead?" she taunted. She knew, but she was dying to hear him say it.

"Full disclosure?" His lips ghosted over the shell of her ear as he spoke. Lysandra nodded vigorously at his question, her word count already exhausted in her lust. "I wanted to fuck you senseless."

Her knees nearly gave out at his honesty, but the prince held her tightly against him.

"Aedion—" she moaned, crashing her lips into his. She brought one hand around to grip the back of his head, hoping to keep him as close to her as possible. "Please."

He was happy to oblige, angling himself to slid into her. She rested her head on his chest as he pressed into her, his hand sliding to her hip to pull her against him fully. His mouth descended on hers again as they adjusted to each other, the sound of her panting encouraging Aedion to move.

Lysandra made to move her hips against him, but the combination of his hand around her hip and the gentle downward pressure of the arm across her chest had her anchored against his body. At this angle, his cock was resting against that tender spot within her, the sensation of it almost too much.

Aedion's thrusts were shallow, the movement of his hips staccato as he worked toward her pleasure. Her knees were weak as he brushed that spot repeatedly, and she knew her release wasn't far off.

"Ah— Aedion. Right there. Just like that."

The man groaned into her mouth, his kiss swallowing her own moans threatening to echo within the small shower. Her body clenched impossibly tighter around him until she shattered, leaning heavily against Aedion as she cried out. With only a few more thrusts Aedion was coming with her, slamming his hips home so deeply that she rocked onto her tiptoes with the force of it. She still held the back of his head with an iron grip, and she was grateful that her other forearm hadn't completely turned to jello as Aedion's weight sagged against her.

His forehead dropped to her shoulder. "Shit," he whispered as his chest heaved against her back, both of them shuddering as he pulled away from her.

Lysandra turned to him, her own chest heaving for air, too. "Yeah," she agreed, cupping his face to kiss him sweetly on the lips. She repeated the gesture several more times before pulling away and bending to grab the discarded bottle from the shower floor.

"Here," she offered, a grin on her face. "Didn't you need this?"

Aedion snatched the bottle from her, laughing softly. "I do. Got a little off track, I guess."

"Happens to the best of us."

—

The shower had been a quite effective distractor, as it turned out. Lysandra had been able to get out of her head enough to evaluate the morning objectively over her breakfast, her spiral officially disrupted. She resisted teasing Aedion that he had fucked her the opposite of senseless, being that morning tea didn't exactly seem like the time to mention it.

The prince had insisted on driving her straight to the Keep, pulling over a few paces away to pull her face to his for a kiss. "I know you won't, but I'm going to say it anyway. Don't take his shit, okay? He's not going to like the news a bit, but don't let him make you feel responsible for it. If you need me—"

"I'll call," she insisted, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand. "I promise."

"Okay," he breathed, his eyes scanning her with an emotion she couldn't place. "Keep me posted."

Lysandra gathered her things and exited the vehicle, walking up the steps to the Keep with renewed purpose. She scanned the text she had received from Arobynn the night before as she approached.

Arobynn: Annie checked all schedules and was able to push our group debrief to 9am. Come straight to my office when you arrive, and we'll talk. Just the two of us.

She paused with her hand on the door handle, pulling in a deep breath to keep her nerves even. Shoulders squared, she entered the building and walked directly to Arobynn's office. True to his word, he was the only one present. She slipped inside and shut the door, sliding into one of the arm chairs across from him.

"So, I take it this has something to do with the confidential information I shared with you prior to your trip?"

Straight to the point then.

"It does. I needed you to know as soon as possible so that you could relay the message to the lords; especially before the news hits the media outlets," she stated, urgency laced intimately with her words.

Arobynn sat straighter in his chair, his eyes widening slightly with something similar to concern.

"I— I believed Aelin to be great friends with King Dorian. I didn't realize that they.. that they were involved." Arobynn's facial expression told her she was selling her story well, that he was just as surprised as she. "That's why Aedion invited me to accompany them to Rifthold; to spend time with Aelin and Dorian."

Her boss pinched his nose in exasperation, blinking up at her once he finished. "Lysandra, this changes everything."

"That's not all, Arobynn. They're engaged. King Dorian proposed to Aelin while we were in Rifthold. He arrives next week to announce it publicly."

"But what of the prince from Doranelle? Whitethorn? I had on good authority that she's romantically involved with him."

"That's what I thought, too," she agreed. "He serves as her personal Guard. Nothing more, according to Aedion."

Lysandra left out any information regarding Queen Manon's visit. They had decided as a court that it would only raise suspicion to mention it. She and Arobynn discussed a few more details regarding the timeline of the announcement before he decided that he needed to call a meeting with the lords immediately.

"I won't be able to attend the brief at 9am. This needs to be dealt with first and foremost. I need you to run it in my stead, Lysandra. "

"Of course. Anything you need."

She still had a few minutes until the meeting to prepare notes of what she could share and what she couldn't. There were so many moving parts to this whole thing; things she knew that Arobynn told her not to share, things she knew that Aelin asked her not to share, and things she knew that could be shared with the team. Getting her wires crossed wasn't really an option.

The meeting was short and sweet. Once she weeded out the information that she wasn't allowed to divulge, she honestly didn't have much in way of an update for the rest of the team. Considering she was the one to lead it though, there were very few questions asked by her colleagues. It seemed a little too good to be true, but she was grateful that her morning had gone smoothly up to that point. She had overthought it all for nothing.

A couple of hours later, she was sitting at her desk completing case notes when Tern knocked on her office door. She turned toward him in polite greeting, inviting him into her office to sit. The man declined, stating he couldn't stay long, and Lysandra would be lying if she said she wasn't a little relieved.

"So what can I do for you? Do you have something for the Galathynius case?"

"Nah," he stated, his shoulder leaning against the doorjamb. "Just curious, is all."

Her blood ran a little colder, but she wasn't quite sure why.

"Curious about what?"

"You. That case. I've been watching, you know. I think you know more than you let on, and I want to know why you don't come out with it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I just briefed all of you this morning," she countered, thankful that her voice came out as confident as she intended.

"Yeah, but things don't always add up that beautifully do they?" Tern took a step back out of the doorway, but his eyes never left hers. When she didn't respond, he huffed a laugh and continued.

"You're hiding something. I'm going to figure out what it is."

He turned on his heel and walked away; just in time to miss Lysandra bending behind the desk to empty her stomach into the wastebasket.

——————————————————————————

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Chapters:

Part 1 

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you, miss.”

Lysandra turned her head sharply and had to look up to peer into the face of her greeter. Her green eyes fell on ones of bright turquoise with a ring of gold; Ashryver eyes through and through. She scanned his face, observing how he had his golden hair swept into a low bun at the back of his head. If she truly had to complete this mission by any means necessary, she decided she could be much worse off than the beautiful man next to her.

Part 2

Silence, albeit tense, settled over the vehicle for the remaining minutes of the drive. Lysandra’s eyes drifted over slightly to Aedion, taking in the determined set of his jaw and the elegant strength of his upper body. It baffled her to think they’d been so comfortable with one another just a short time ago; laughing together, spinning across the dance floor, and genuinely enjoying each other’s company. In that moment, he was only a middle seat away from her, but it might as well have been miles.

Part 3

Aedion bit his lip as he considered; battling some internal etiquette war, no doubt. She dared to lean over and pat the other side of the bed, her final invitation. She wasn’t going to beg, for the gods’ sake.

Part 4

She had been his closer more times than she could count, and it was about time he admitted it to her and the others. The idea of continuing to pad the fragile egos of these men and allowing them to credit themselves with her contributions was absolutely nauseating to her now.

Part 5

Lysandra learned more everyday about what made Aedion so successful in winning the charms of others. His voice rolled over her skin with painful gentleness, and she was grateful that her body managed to avoid flushing at the sound of it. 

Part 6

“Mhm. You looked just as enamored with him as he did with you. To a certain degree, that’s to be expected considering the nature of your assignment. But you see, you and I, we watch people for a living, and I couldn’t help having some trouble discerning what was genuine from the role you’re to be playing.”

Part 7 

His words were cut off by a firm click of the space bar to pause the audio. Lorcan's eyes scanned the table, gauging the reactions of the court, but with particular interest on the princess. Lysandra dared to look her way again to see her face was white, almost green, with panic starting to brew a tempest in those turquoise eyes. In this state, Lysandra would swear the gold rings of her eyes were living flames. 

Part 8

He asked the the Guards who followed him to hang back and slid his hands into the pockets of his deep navy blue suit. Eyes the color of bright sapphires gleamed as he smiled toward them and slowed to a stop.

“Welcome to Rifthold,” he announced, his tone smooth and casual.

Part 9 

Dorian brought the queen forward, in greeting to some and introduction to others. She was polite, diplomatic, yet she did not emanate the warmth that Lysandra so often encountered when meeting royalty. It appeared that her Majesty had no interest in pretense, no matter her rank. Something about Manon made her feel exposed, vulnerable even, as if she saw through every cell of Lysandra’s body.

Part 10

Nothing about introducing him to the single most important person in her life was the behavior of someone prepared to walk away from it all. She cursed her lack of forethought in presenting it to him, but her brain subconsciously refused to entertain anything about the possibility of Aedion being a temporary fixture in her life. How had she let herself get here?

Part 11 

Lysandra couldn’t find the words, but it didn’t matter because Lorcan had already stepped forward to pull her roughly to his chest. He tucked her head beneath his chin, his hand gripping his other wrist to hold her against him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, blubbering excuses for her behavior into his now soaked shirt. 

Part 12

Lysandra reached toward his face, brushing his hair behind his ear as she scanned his expression. He gave nothing away. She sat up slightly to press a lingering kiss to his mouth, one he returned in kind. Aedion chased her lips as she lay back down, causing her to giggle softly as she pressed her index and middle fingers to his mouth to interrupt his pursuit.

“I don’t know,” she murmured around her smile. “I find it pretty easy to like you. I think I’d find myself pretty lucky to have you like me long-term.”

Part 13

Fresh tears, although it was nearly impossible to tell where one set stopped and another began, started to roll down her cheeks. Lysandra hated how much having her own words thrown at her stung. This must have been the Aedion that Lorcan had alluded to; the one Aedion warned her about when he said he didn’t like who he was. Her heart clenched at the difference in the man before her, especially upon realizing her words were the ones that brought this side of him out.

Part 14

On heavy feet, she forced herself to maintain a casual pace as she walked toward the conference room. Her heart thundered within her chest at twice the pace of her footfalls, leaving her feeling chaotic and unnerved. She paused with her hand on the conference room door and took a long, deep breath. It was best to prepare herself for anything she may see, but even in the event that she couldn’t, she told herself she only had to manage her external reaction. Her internal reaction was her own and an entirely different story.

Part 15

The prince grunted loudly at the pain on impact, but his grip on her remained as tight as he could manage. She wondered what the severities of all his injuries were, but she supposed she would find out in due time. In that moment she was content to hug him, to feel his warmth pressed along the lines of her body, to have his large hands fisted in the back of her shirt. She clutched his back as if he was the only thing keeping her from toppling off the face of the earth, her face buried against his chest as various emotions flooded her.

“I’m so fucking mad at you.”

Part 16

Heavy, malignant silence settled over the entire room. Aedion glanced at Lysandra then, mirroring her look of concern. Perhaps no one had briefed Dorian on the growing, rampant whispers of he and Aelin’s intentions over the last couple of days. Had he known, surely he would have understood the implied weight of his words. Darrow seemed happy enough to have Dorian back himself into his own trap, indicated by the slow, serpentine smile that stretched across his face.

Epilogue

Aedion waved her out to the balcony where he had a large glass of wine waiting on the small table between the ample lounge chairs. They were comfortable and one of Lysandra favorite places to relax. She dropped unceremoniously into the closest one, letting out a whoosh of air on impact. Aedion chuckled at her display, and although she knew he meant no harm, she scowled at him anyway.

Vignettes/Alternate POVs:

Parts 1-3 • Lorcan POV

Warning: contains spoilers if you haven’t read through Part 13!

Part 7+ • Rowan POV

Occurs during the court meeting in Part 7 and carries on after the meeting.

Parts 12-15 • Aedion POV

Should Have Known Better • Part 1 • Part 2

Part 1 covers OGL 12-13

The security checkpoints to get through the iron gates went smoothly. Operating nearly on autopilot, she was striding through the halls toward the war room and wishing she would have had a little time to share this information with Aedion prior to sharing with the group. There was no specific reason that she wanted to do so, if only to have an ally.

She plopped into her seat and took her time getting settled. The rest of the group filtered in one-by-one for the next couple of minutes, all of them greeting her happily and settling in. It struck her again how different her dynamic was between this group and the colleagues she'd worked alongside for numerous years now. Despite her hostile past with the princess, each of them greeted her as a veteran member of the court every time they had a meeting.

Her eyes were trained on the door in anticipation of seeing that familiar head of wavy blond hair walk through. After the night they spent and her complete failure at keeping Aedion out of her head all day, she'd long since decided to stop pretending she didn't look forward to seeing him. As if on cue, the prince walked into the war room, his stride brisk and purposeful. She watched as he scanned the table before his eyes landed on her, and he offered a bright smile in her direction as he approached the chair next to her.

"Hey," he spoke quietly, only for her to hear. "I, uhh. I missed you today."

The tops of his ears turned pink, and Lysandra was more than tempted to take his face between her hands to continue their kiss from last night.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Me too."

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth absentmindedly, his eyes tracking the movement quickly. As soon as she realized he had done it, he was turning his gaze back toward the table. Her hand patted his knee gently, just because she wanted to, and his shoulders visibly relaxed at the contact.

"Connall," Lorcan recruited. "Would you brief everyone on the intel we gathered last night?"

Her friend shot her one of his sly winks, no doubt to tease her of what he'd learned about Lysandra and Aedion's sleeping arrangement. She doubted he would have said anything to Connall about it, but even if he had, at least she could trust Connall to keep it professional in the war room. She made a mental note to throttle Lorcan.

"Sure. Aedion and Lysandra were successful in engaging Lord Darrow, and as Aedion suspected, he did indeed invite the two of them to share drinks with him and Arobynn. After their meal they made their way over, and I instructed them to excuse themselves for a short interval of time to see if we could capture any of their conversation on the mic installed in Lysandra's clutch," Connall explained, pausing to allow for any questions or comments.

The court all nodded their understanding, and he continued.

"Commander Salvaterre and I thought they may be inclined to speak quickly about their plans for Aelin in the agents' absence, and we believe we recorded some relevant dialogue. We entertained a couple of theories upon hearing it initially, but we thought we would play it for all of you and discuss it as a group."

When there were no objections, Lorcan started to pull the audio files on the small laptop he brought to the meeting. After a few scrolls and mouse clicks, he was ready, and the group held their breath in anticipation. Due to the mic's placement, the audio was a touch muffled initially, but soon enough, Lord Darrow and Hamel's voices sounded through the room.

Lysandra shot a glance toward Aelin. Her head was bowed toward the table to make sure she could hear as well as possible, and her posture was rigid as she chewed the inside of her lip. Understandable, she decided, considering this entire thing revolved around men who may or may not want very bad things for the princess.

"While we have a few minutes, Arobynn," Darrow began. "I'd like to urge you to consider what we're proposing."

"It's a great risk, Lord Darrow," Arobynn replied, his voice uncharacteristically meek. "Her highness will not readily accept it. If I remember her temperament accurately, anyway."

"Bah. I think given the alternative, she would be grateful for the opportunity to ascend to her throne. We realize our trade agreements with Adarlan aren't secure for long considering her relationship with King Havilliard, and this would allow for shared governance of Terrasen in the absence of withholding her birth right. You and I both know the princess will not forego the possibility of becoming queen. Her pride wouldn't allow it."

"I do not disagree, I assure you. However, I've kept tabs on the princess as you all requested, and it's possible that she's romantically involved with the prince of Doranelle. That certainly complicates this proposal."

"Hm," Darrow considered, but ultimately he was undeterred. "That seems as though it's out of our hands, Arobynn. We make this proposal, and it's up to Princess Aelin to do the adequate soul-searching in order to make such a delicate decision."

"Perhaps. Should she refuse, and we explore the alternative plan, he is still a very real barrier in the absence of any heir."

"That's a bridge we shall cross when we arrive. I believe, between you and me, that's easily resolved," Darrow trailed off. "I wonder if our guests are alright. Have they been gone some time?"

"It seems that way," Arobynn agreed, trailing off. "Oh, look. Just there. They're coming our way."

"Gentlemen," Aedion's voice sounded smoothly over the mic. "I apologize for our delay. The lines—"

His words were cut off by a firm click of the space bar to pause the audio. Lorcan's eyes scanned the table, gauging the reactions of the court, but with particular interest on the princess. Lysandra dared to look her way again to see her face was white, almost green, with panic starting to brew a tempest in those turquoise eyes. In this state, Lysandra would swear the gold rings of her eyes were living flames.

Rowan sat next to her, his hands white-knuckled around the chair arms so tightly that the wood started to groan beneath them. Despite her own turmoil, Aelin extended her hand to him, placing it on his forearm and trying to communicate silently through eye contact.

It was silent in the room for several moments, each minute seeming like its own individual eternity. Aedion was tense next to her, and she couldn't refrain from placing her hand between his shoulders, just below the base of his neck. He leaned into her touch automatically, and she couldn't give half a shit if anyone at the table noted the gesture.

"Lys," he said, his voice rough with emotion. He swallowed thickly before he turned to her and continued. "Before we discuss theories, do you have much to report from work today? Did you run into Arobynn at all?"

He slid his gaze over to Lorcan in silent permission of his idea. The dark-haired man nodded simply, encouraging her to share. She shoved down the anxiety roiling through her stomach, cleared her throat, pulled her hands into her lap, and launched into telling them of the beginning of the meeting with Arobynn.

"And just what the fuck does he have to be concerned about with you?" Rowan snapped loudly, interrupting Lysandra's monologue.

Rowan Whitethorn was a tough nut to crack in terms of getting to know someone, but Lysandra realized then that he could be utterly terrifying.

"Ro," Aelin murmured, placing her hand over his on the chair arm. He maintained his iron grip, but he instantly tried to breathe through his temper at the soft tone of her voice.

"It's okay," Lysandra assured them, understanding perfectly well that he was likely spiraling after hearing threats against the woman he loved. "He was concerned that he didn't see my 'tells' as it relates to how I interact with Aedion. I think he had concerns regarding my objectivity because he wasn't seeing evidence that my affection was contrived."

Most of the others nodded their heads. It was Lorcan to push the issue further.

"And what did you say to that?"

Lysandra was surprised that he seemed all business; that this wasn't one of his cheeky, suggestive questions.

"I told him that Aedion was my assignment and nothing more. He said he had no option but to believe me, so we're good."

She pretended that she didn't see Aedion flinch out of the corner of her eye and continued.

"He transitioned pretty quickly from that to his actual goal in talking to me. Apparently, I'm the only one of his agents he's shared this information with, so we'll need to be delicate in how we move forward."

Lorcan's brow furrowed tightly, and in that moment, he reminded Lysandra more of how Aedion had described him that first night. Lorcan and Lysandra had hit it off early, bonded over a history of mutual exasperation with Aelin, and it was interesting to see the return of this intense demeanor so suddenly.

"Of course," he replied dryly, gesturing with his hand that she continue.

She began telling them everything Arobynn had shared with her, committing to sharing the information as accurately as she could, near verbatim. Their theories surrounding their trade relations being on a certain timer were met with nods of confirmation, indicating that her boss hadn't been far off.

Aelin’s head snapped toward Lorcan. “Does he know of our travel to Rifthold tomorrow? Has your source mentioned anything about this?”

Her voice didn’t convey any doubt in Lysandra’s account. It was more of a confirmation and probe for additional intel. An odd feeling, not entirely unpleasant, worked it’s way through her at Aelin’s clear show of trust.

“My source hasn’t mentioned anything to indicate that Arobynn knows of your travel. I would assume if Arobynn knew, especially if he knew it was only you and Whitethorn, there would be plans to intercept,” Lorcan supplied. “I’ll see if I can figure out a way to pry without offering the information myself.”

“Please do. Let me know as soon as you hear,” Aelin instructed. “Apologies for interrupting you, Lys.”

“If it’s any consolation, I haven’t heard anything surrounding travel to Rifthold. Considering the conversation we had earlier, I would think he would have mentioned it; even on accident,” Lysandra explained.

That seemed to appease the group for the time being, but she insisted that Lorcan still look into it to be certain.

Connall was the next to speak, his shift in topic a little premature given that he wasn't aware that Lysandra had yet to scratch the surface. "Salvaterre and I believe that the context of their conversation had to do with—"

"Wait," Lysandra interrupted. "I think I can save you, and everyone else, some time."

The full attention of the room was on her with a level of scrutiny that wasn't there before. She pulled as much air as possible into her lungs as and forced it out in an attempt to settle her raging emotions.

"Since their trade agreement would be a perpetual source of tension, they acknowledge that Aelin will likely never stop pursuing her right to the throne. They believe it to be a matter of time before she negotiates King Dorian into a more competitive trade agreement being that they have significant rapport, so rather than it come to blows, they're prepared to negotiate a way for you to ascend in what they believe is a mutually beneficial way.

There was a spark of optimism in Aelin's eyes, and Lysandra was afraid to delay the blow much longer. It was going to be painful enough to watch that light die, much less if it got much brighter.

"They're planning to propose an arranged marriage with a man of their choosing in the hopes of maintaining some influence over Terrasen's governance. They think that if you marry appropriately, they would be able to maintain some autonomy of their respective territories."

She hated watching the muscles of Aelin's beautiful face go slack as the news permeated her brain. Rowan's facial expression was nearly feral at that point, yet he managed to keep his reaction contained to a low groan and a firm pinching of the bridge of his nose. Because she couldn't help it, she glanced sidelong at Aedion who had gone absolutely still.

"They want to offer me to Dorian as some kind of bartering piece? And what if I refuse?" Aelin demanded, red-hot anger working its way into her voice.

Rowan spoke next, the calm of his voice scarier than when he had raised it before. "Fireheart, that answer was in the recording. There's only one reason things are complicated by the lack of an heir."

"What the fuck is my life?" Aelin muttered, her question very clearly rhetorical. "These men haven't deigned to sit down and have a legitimate conversation with me regarding my politics, yet they've already devised a plan where I'm married off in Adarlan or killed. They don't know enough to know that I have absolutely zero intention of stripping their influences."

"Aelin," Lysandra began. "They are planning to propose that you marry Arobynn Hamel."

A silence so deafening had never existed before that moment, she decided. She scanned the room to find looks of absolute shock and terror on every face.

"So," the princess croaked, no shortage of venom in her tone. "I have to choose between death and being a wife to Arobynn." She sucked on the inside of her cheek, her turquoise eyes fixed on the center of the table. "As if there's much of a difference."

Rowan was barely hanging on, the wood of the table being the next victim of his iron-like grip. It groaned in protest, but his hands remained white-knuckled around the edge.

"No," Aedion said with finality. "There has to be an alternative."

Her partner was as white as a sheet, and she longed to comfort him. The rigidity of his posture told her it was best if she didn't; that he needed to work through this on his own.

"Did you hear one, Aedion?" Aelin snapped. "It seems pretty black and white."

"Maybe you're okay with accepting that fate, but I won't hear it. Aelin, we can figure this—"

"Do not insinuate that I'm giving up; on Terrasen or all of us. If this is my sacrifice to make sure you're all safe, I will do what I need to do," she seethed.

"Save me the martyr bullshit, Aelin," he retorted, not at all intimidated by the fire roaring in his cousin.

"Watch it," Rowan warned through clenched teeth, although the warning sounded more like a promise.

"Whitethorn, I don't see your bloodline being threatened here, so you can save it, too."

Lysandra knew her eyes were the size of saucers now. Conflict was hardly rare at court meetings, but this was the first she'd seen of them launching at each other's throats.

"Aedion," she warned, placing a hand on his bicep to check him politely. He promptly shrugged her off, her warning the equivalent of dust.

"Enough," Lorcan commanded, his voice stopping them all in their tracks. "This is our nightmare, and I get that. This shit—" He gestured between Rowan and Aedion. "— is not productive, and I'm not throwing my ass between you two again."

She made a mental note to get that story later. Fenrys was looking at Aelin with a gentleness and concern she rarely saw from the twin. It looked as though they were communicating almost telepathically, and it reminded her of how much hope Aelin brought to this entire court. She tried to force her brain to a solution but was coming up short.

It was quiet for minutes while each of them got their bearings again. The vacant stare was back in Aelin's eyes, so similar to the first night she'd sat with this court, and Lysandra couldn't imagine the terror that she was experiencing. The thought of an arranged marriage nauseated her on Aelin's behalf; the idea of having to marry someone against her will completely abhorrent.

"It would explain why Darrow asked of our courtship announcement," Aedion murmured to her, barely audible. "He specifically asked if there was any issue with you as a 'suitable partner'. I guarantee he was fishing for any barriers to their proposal of Arobynn."

"Yeah," she breathed. It was a weak response at best, but she wasn't sure what to say instead.

"I'm not sure how much time we have before they call a meeting," Lorcan stated, "but we will exhaust every avenue in the meantime. Worst case scenario, maybe you could accept while we work through this."

Aelin only nodded, a look of defeat etched in every square inch of her face.

Rowan hit his threshold, launching himself from the chair abruptly. The force of it sent the chair crashing behind him, but he never looked back as he stalked out of the room. There was a faint roar of curses that echoed in his wake.

Aelin stood to follow him, but Aedion lifted his hand to stop her. "I'll go," he told her, already on his feet.

"Is that a good idea, Ashryver?" Lorcan asked. To be fair, it was a reasonable question given their earlier exchange.

Reason aside, a flicker of anger so reminiscent of Aelin's showed itself in his face. His responding voice was low and lethal.

"Anyone think they can relate better to the magnitude of what he's losing?" he spat, his eyes softening as they landed on his cousin. His question was only met with silence. "I'll debrief with you on the rest later," he announced, and then, he was gone.

Lysandra struggled to conceptualize the war raging within Rowan. It was one thing to lose the love of one's life to an arranged marriage, but losing them in a marriage where you knew their needs would never be met seemed especially gut-wrenching. The man didn't even have the benefit of knowing she would be married to someone with strong morals, who would keep her safe through life's—

"Aelin," she said suddenly, a cohesive image appearing within the fog of her brain.

The princess' head snapped up toward her. "How close are you and King Dorian?"

"Very. Although, I'm sure he'll hold a grudge when I cancel our trip tomorrow," she said, huffing a humorless laugh. "I just can't imagine going to negotiate a trade agreement when I know it won't matter."

"Close enough that he would ask for your hand in marriage?"

Lorcan's eyes grew, his attention glued to her every word as he realized where she was going.

A chuckled sounded from Aelin. "Um, not quite. That potential is ancient history with Dorian."

"What if it were temporary? Long enough to buy us time without you having to tie yourself to Arobynn Hamel."

Their commander looked almost giddy at this breakthrough, especially when realization dawned across the princess' face.

"And you called me a clever bitch, Lysandra."

"Couldn't she just marry Rowan if it's a matter of being betrothed to a member of nobility?" Connall interjected.

"Aside from that being more obviously reactionary, Arobynn and the lords would likely aim to eliminate him entirely. Then, they would be free to execute their original plan," Lysandra replied.

"Rowan is one of many members of Doranelle nobility, and if they're skilled in staging accidental deaths, it's possible that it wouldn't be questioned without significant prompting," Lorcan continued. "But if they make a move on Aelin as the bride-elect of King Dorian Havilliard, it risks a powerful alliance. He knows her too intimately for them to expect that he wouldn't investigate her death, and regardless, it would be considered an act of war on Adarlan. One that Terrasen isn't in a position to win."

"Aelin and Rowan aren't public with their romantic relationship, so we could easily present that he's her personal Guard. It would be enough to explain away Arobynn's theory of their involvement,"Lysandra added. "And I can feed information subtly to the team in support of that."

Aelin sat a little straighter over the course of the discussion, hope starting to shine delicately across her features.

"Well, it looks like I need to work on a completely different proposal for tomorrow," she announced. "Lysandra, would you be willing to accompany us to Rifthold? I'm going to need you to help me keep everything to do with Arobynn and the lords straight."

"Of course. I can't imagine that Arobynn would discourage me from going. The potential for information is too great."

"Good. That means Aedion will need to join us as well. Otherwise, our travel together would seem more suspicious. Lorcan, I think it would be best if you joined us too considering you're commanding this mission."

Lorcan seemed apprehensive to leave Terrasen so vulnerable, but Fenrys and Connall promised they were capable of holding things down for the duration of the trip. Additionally, Aelin reminded them that Aedion could recruit the Bane to aid in security without divulging any sensitive information. They discussed the logistics of travel for several minutes before Rowan and Aedion rejoined the group; the former offering a firm clap on Aedion's shoulder before finding his seat next to Aelin.

Lorcan filled the both of them in on their game plan with unplanned and sporadic assistance from Aelin. Hope bloomed in Lysandra's chest as she watched some of the heaviness leave Aedion and Rowan over the course of the discussion. Neither of the men had any trepidation for the plan; in fact, they both looked relieved to involve Dorian rather than any alternative.

—

A while later the meeting adjourned, and they all left quickly to start making travel preparations. Aedion announced that he would be briefing the Bane as soon as he could get them together, so Lorcan would be accompanying Lysandra to her apartment. Before leaving the estate, Lysandra needed to talk to him about her comments from earlier, and she jogged down the hall to catch him.

"Aedion!" she called. "Wait!"

She watched as his shoulders tensed, his feet coming to a halt at her words. He turned around and walked back a little to meet her.

"What's up? Everything alright?"

"Can we talk?" she asked, not realizing until now how nervous she was to have the conversation.

The prince rubbed the back of his neck as he considered.

"Ah— I don't know if I can right now. I don't know about you, but I'm wiped from drinking so much last night. I was going to take a power nap and get ready for the trip before I meet with the Bane."

Disappointment settled in Lysandra's stomach. Aedion was incredibly busy, she understood, but he seemed far more aloof than usual at her presence.

"Oh. Okay. I just wanted to make sure you weren't upset with me... for what I said about you to Arobynn."

Something like hurt flashed in his eyes, confirming her nerves at seeing him flinch in the meeting. He let out a long breath before he responded.

"I'm not... mad, Lys." His eyes bore into hers, and she knew he was being genuine. "I won't lie and say it didn't sting, but it wasn't you. More than anything it reminded me what we're doing here, and reality set in more suddenly that I would have liked."

"Okay," she breathed. "I just needed you to know I meant what I said last night. I don't want you to think you can't trust me or that—"

"Hey," he interrupted, his hand reaching out to hers and his thumb rubbing softly over her knuckles. It may have been comforting if not for the grave look on his face. "You're doing what you have to do. I get it. I've been in these situations before."

Lysandra managed a nod, cursing herself that she couldn't think of anything to say.

"It's the nature of the beast," he continued. "It's not your fault that we'll never be able to trust each other, you know?"

At that, he slipped his hand from hers, taking care not to shove it away or drop it. He offered her a sad, sideways smile before turning around and walking away.

——————————————————————————

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"Absolutely not. You will continue with your other duties and maintain your rank as you always have. Your hours already mirror Lysandra's to a certain extent, and in the event that your schedules are incompatible, Lorcan will substitute as her Guard in your absence."

Lorcan winked at Lysandra then, a sly smile stretching asymmetrically across his beautifully tan face. She took the opportunity to wink and smile back. The way this conversation was going, Lorcan seemed like he would be more fun, which was surprising, to say the least.

"You and Lysandra will alternate staying at her place some nights and in your quarters on others," Aelin continued. "That will ensure she's protected at all times in the evening hours, and Lorcan will substitute during the day when she's not actively working."

"Wait," Lysandra interjected. "This all seems excessive, no? As you said before, I'm well-trained. I could manage on my own just fine."

"I don't doubt it. From what we both know about Arobynn, though, he won't send his weakest, nor will he send anyone alone. He knows of your training better than anyone."

Lysandra only nodded. She supposed the princess made a point, and if she had to live a double-life, she didn't hate the idea of additional security.

"What about when she's with Arobynn and the others at his headquarters? Is she not at risk there, as well?" the green-eyed man asked.

"Nah, Whitethorn. Too many eyes on him; too obvious. He won't risk damaging his rapport with the others by killing one of his best in their presence," Lorcan explained.

"Exactly. Arobynn would never be so straight-forward. He'll contrive things to look like an accident of sorts. Anything else may lead to word of his corruption getting to the public, and he can't afford that. He'll send 2-3 people after her, then visit her family once the news gets out to offer to pay for her funeral or something. But that's a fair question, Rowan," she assured him with a smile, placing her hand on his tattooed cheek.

Lysandra was relieved to finally know the identity of everyone in the room. She wasn't sure how she felt about Rowan Whitethorn yet, but he struck her as someone who revealed himself over time. It was interesting to think about what he may look like when he smiled considering his stoic demeanor now.

Aedion sat back, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. The circumstances weren't ideal, that much was clear. Lysandra didn't particularly love the idea of being babysat anymore than the next person, but his sudden annoyance at their association started to grate her nerves.

"What?" she demanded.

Turquoise eyes snapped up to hers quickly, confusion flashing over his features.

"Are you talking to me?"

"Yes. Anything else you need to say about the less-than-satisfactory conditions you're forced to work under?"

Lysandra knew her words were partly unfair, but she couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for him right now. She was in the same exact boat, but she was playing with fire in a way he wasn't. At least he believed in his cousin, their country, and his purpose. She didn't have that luxury working with Arobynn.

The tension in the room thickened, every pair of eyes trained on them.

"No, Lys. Gods, I'm just wrapping my head around all of this. It's a lot to take in," he responded impatiently.

That last little shred of patience that she held for Aedion snapped. She was irritated, exhausted, and ready for the night to be over.

"You think so? It's a lot for you? Forgive me if I can't give a fuck about this being hard for you, Aedion. If it's too much, maybe I can just fake-date Lorcan instead. He's not bitching nearly as much about spending time with me," she snapped.

Lorcan dared to huff an arrogant laugh, eyes flitting from her face to Aedion's.

"Now there's an idea," he drawled, shooting Lysandra another secret wink as Aedion rubbed at his face.

"Lorcan—" Rowan warned, his voice low and stern.

"Lysandra suggested it; not me."

"And it's not fucking happening," Aedion snapped, eyes flaring and surprising everyone with the finality of his tone.

He glanced around the room, taking in their expressions. His voice softened once he noticed the raised eyebrows from Aelin and his colleagues.

"The mission has already been initiated," he said gently. "A switch now would be a threat to its integrity."

A few moments of silence passed until Aelin dared to break it.

"I have to agree. I think it's time to end the meeting and get some rest. It's been a long night already," she said. "Lysandra, when you arrive at Arobynn's tomorrow, you're to play ignorant when you address the team. For all you know, they could have succeeded in gaining access to me since you completed your part of the mission. Assuming you truly want to do this."

Her eyes raised to meet Aelin's, the eyes of a woman she'd considered an enemy her entire life. These days, she was learning that things were never quite so black and white.

"I'm in."

—

The meeting was adjourned, all five of them dragging themselves out of the war room and toward their respective rooms. No one said a word as they parted, too exhausted for small talk or shallow farewells. Aedion's rooms were farthest from the war room, naturally, leaving them alone in awkward silence for several minutes before arriving at his door.

He opened the door unceremoniously, inviting her inside with a subtle jerk of his head. She obliged, but she found herself very shy at the idea of being in such a personal space with someone she barely knew. Her eyes bounced around the room to take in as much as possible about her surroundings.

"We had discussed you having your own rooms, but—"

"If you have eyes in Arobynn's inner circle, you can't be sure no one's watching," she finished. "I get it; keep it as authentic as possible."

He nodded his agreement before walking over to the wardrobe to retrieve his nightclothes.

"So, we don't have any of your stuff here yet. Do you want something to sleep in? I meant to ask Aelin, but I forgot."

Her stomach fluttered at his consideration, but she shoved it down. He probably learned this infinite politeness in cotillion.

"That would be great. Thank you," she replied, unsure of what to do with herself.

Aedion handed over some clothes and showed her to the ensuite bathroom. It was massive and beautiful, just what someone would expect of the royal family's estate. She changed quickly, and after a few minutes, she heard Aedion knock softly at the door.

"Come in," she called as she adjusted her night clothes. She wasn't a petite woman necessarily, but Aedion was far bigger in frame. Everything was hanging off of her awkwardly, overwhelming her with what to do with all the extra fabric.

"Just need to brush my teeth," he replied as he creeped around the door.

His eyes latched onto hers in the mirror, and a small chuckle bubbled out of his chest at her current predicament.

"You're swimming in those," he murmured, turning toward her to offer his help.

Lysandra didn't object to his adjustments as he moved deftly around her. He rolled her sleeves quickly as he'd done with his dress shirt at the gala, then reached toward her waist to adjust the band of her pants. Without thinking, Lysandra lifted the too-long hem of her night shirt slightly to allow him access. Aedion's hands froze at her waist, hovering just inches above the band, as if he had caught himself doing something he shouldn't.

"It's okay," she whispered, hoping to the gods that she wasn't blushing at his proximity.

He hesitated another second before his hands were on her, methodically adjusting the fit of his sleep pants. He tugged the drawstring tightly and glanced up to Lysandra to make sure it wasn't too snug. When she didn't give him such an indication, he inserted his thumbs on each side of her hips to roll the band a couple of times.

The feel of his skin against hers was heavenly, and for a second, she completely forgot her annoyance with him from only moments ago. Her mind transported her back to mere hours ago; when she had been content to laugh openly with the man before her, and they exchanged subtle touches as if it were second nature. That version of them was far preferred to the tension humming through them both now.

Aedion cleared his throat as he finished, his brows furrowed with something Lysandra couldn't place. "There's face wash by the sink if you want it, and I have an extra toothbrush out for you there." He pointed near the edge of the sink, where a fresh, green toothbrush was propped.

He brushed his teeth quickly and left the room shortly after, leaving Lysandra to finish up for bed. She emerged into his bedroom a few minutes later, fresh-faced and heavy-limbed. The bed was prepared for sleeping, the pillows fluffed and duvet pulled back to make it easier to slip in. Her mouth practically watered at the sheer size of it combined with, what looked like, the softest of linens.

Her eyes caught on Aedion nearby, draping a blanket across a long chaise near his bedroom window. There was a pillow propped to one side, and he made to lay down as she padded toward the bed. She bit back her giggle at the sight of him. His legs were drawn up in an effort to fit his tall body onto the chaise, and he shifted gracelessly in an effort to fit his broad frame on it comfortably. After watching him adjust for the third time, she couldn't fight the laugh that forced its way out of her chest.

"Care to share what's so funny?" the prince demanded, but there was no bite in his voice as there had been earlier.

"I'm just amazed that there's truly no limit to your politeness. You clearly don't fit on that chaise, Aedion."

"It's fine," he responded.

"No," she laughed, "it's not. You're not going to sleep a wink. Switch with me."

His head popped up from his pillow, eyes wide. "Absolutely not. I'm not going to sprawl across that bed while my guest crams themselves onto this chaise."

Lysandra wondered if she would come to regret her suggestion, but it pained her to see him folded up on that piece of furniture.

"This bed is massive. Why don't we share? I'll keep to my side."

"I— uh. I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable. I don't mind sleeping here for the night," he insisted.

"If I'm inviting you, I'm not uncomfortable. Although, your consideration is quite charming. If you're not okay with sharing, I understand."

Aedion bit his lip as he considered; battling some internal etiquette war, no doubt. She dared to lean over and pat the other side of the bed, her final invitation. She wasn't going to beg, for the gods' sake.

Finally, he walked over, hesitating slightly at the side of the mattress. The shuffling sounds of the sheets were the only noise in the room until he lay back on his pillow and moaned indecently at his comfort.

Lysandra pretended it did nothing to hear the sound come from deep in his chest as she shifted to get settled on her side.

Each of them were on their backs, laying as far apart as they could without any of their limbs hanging over the edge. Lysandra took a deep breath, exhaling loudly as she snuggled deeper into the pillow. There were definitely worse accommodations than where we was currently, that was for sure. Aedion leaned over to shut off the lamp next to him, and suddenly, the silence was deafening.

A giggle bubbled out of Lysandra, surprising even herself with sound. The sequence of events from the evening dawned on her out of nowhere, and she wasn't confident that she wasn't living in some type of simulation. Was she really in the royal estate, sharing a bed with the promiscuous prince of Terrasen? Had she actually just agreed to do recon on her own boss, consequences be damned?

Yes to all of the above. This day had taken quite the detour.

"You're certainly a giggle box tonight," Aedion remarked, that familiar mischief dancing through his words.

"I'm sorry. I think I'm delirious from exhaustion or something."

Her laughter continued. When Aedion didn't comment further or join her, she spoke again.

"All of this isn't crazy to you? We started the night as strangers; agents from opposite sides of a mission who were tasked with flirting with each other, essentially. Fast forward, and I've agreed to double-cross my boss who's one of the most lethal men in Adarlan to help your cousin regain control of her throne," Lysandra rambled through her laughter. "Now, I'm in bed with a man that I know almost nothing about, and we're not even having sex. Aedion, what the fuck is my life?"

The prince started to laugh openly along with her, but whether he was tickled by her words or her manic behavior remained to be seen. She felt the the bed shift next to her, and she could make out the outline of his form facing her by the outdoor lighting filtering in around the curtains.

"When you put it that way, I have no idea what your life is," he joked, his head propped up on his hand.

Lysandra recovered slowly and wiped at the tears that had leaked from her eyes. "Sorry again. I don't mean to keep you up. I'm a terrible roommate."

He chuckled at that. "Not even close. It's been a weird night by anyone's standards."

Lysandra hummed her agreement, turning on her side to face him. The distance she noted in the backseat of the SUV seemed almost close compared to the space between them in Aedion's massive bed, but she supposed that was for the best.

"Do you want to know me, Lys?" he murmured, and her breath caught in her throat.

"What?" she replied dumbly. She cursed herself for not having a more charming response, but his words paired with the low rasp of his voice was overwhelming in that moment.

"You said we're strangers, and you're right. Regardless, we're going to be spending a ton of time together, so it seems wise to get to know each other. Go ahead, ask me something."

"Okay," she began. "What's your favorite color?"

"Easy. Green."

"Hm. You struck me as a blue guy," she mused.

"What qualifies me as a 'blue guy'?"

"I don't know. Just a hunch, I guess."

"Alright," he replied, content to accept her logic. "It's my turn. What's your favorite animal?"

"Oo, good one," she said, falling silent as she considered. "I'm going with ghost leopard."

Aedion let out a short laugh. "That was incredibly specific."

"Who's your best friend?" she asked quietly.

"Aelin. I don't know what I would do without her."

For some reason that answer surprised her. It wasn't that she didn't think Aelin would have people around her who cared, but she was used to people claiming someone outside of their family as their best friend. The immediacy and sincerity of his reply touched her, too.

"That's really sweet," she replied. "It's your turn."

"How do you know Salvaterre?" She noted the hesitancy in his tone and smiled a little at his curiosity.

"I met him tonight. Why?"

He was quiet for a few seconds, leaving her to wonder if he believed her.

"No reason, really. You two just seemed familiar, I guess. Lorcan is grouchy at best with most people, but he seemed comfortable around you. I thought maybe you two had worked together before or something," he explained.

"Oh. He didn't seem so bad."

Another chuckle from Aedion. "Well, consider yourself one of the chosen ones then. I can't remember if it was the first or second time I interacted with him that he punched me. Do with that information what you will."

"Did you deserve it?" she asked through a laugh.

"I really don't think I did. I'm the first to admit to being antagonistic at times, but I think I met him at the wrong time or something."

"Or you remind him too much of Aelin," she theorized.

"Oh, shit. I bet you're right."

They shared a laugh, followed by a contagious yawn from Lysandra. Aedion's followed immediately, and he rolled to his back to situate himself in blankets.

"Let's do one more before we pass out, yeah? Your turn."

Lysandra considered several different questions, struggling to decide on one due to her grogginess. After a minute of silence, she blurted the next one to occur to her.

"If you could have dinner with anyone in the world, who would it be?"

"Dead or alive?" Aedion asked through another yawn.

"Either."

"My dad. I'd kill to talk to him one more time," he murmured.

Lysandra's eyes snapped open and fell on his profile. From what she could make out in the low light, he looked unbothered, but she felt like a jerk anyway. Her hand gravitated to his shoulder automatically.

"Aedion... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bring up something so heavy."

His head rolled her direction, and she could just barely see the fluttering of his eyelashes as he looked toward her. The turquoise and gold of his eyes were branded into her mind, so she used her imagination to picture them meeting her own.

"Hey, it's okay. No harm done. He passed a while back," he assured her.

She pulled her hand away, missing the warmth of his body in a way she didn't feel allowed. The pillow cradled her head comfortably as she settled onto her back and pulled the duvet up to her chin.

"Okay," she conceded weakly, although guilt continued to course through her.

"By the way, I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. I was caught off guard and being an ass, none of which was your fault."

"Thank you. Goodnight, Aedion," she murmured, his sincerity and her exhaustion making her more emotional than usual at his apology.

"Night. Oh, and Lys?"

"Yeah?"

"Good call on blue. It used to be my favorite, actually."

A smile stretched across her lips, her competitive nature pleased at the admission.

"I knew it! When did it change?"

"Tonight."

Her heart thundered in her chest as her brain caught up to his reference of her; in an emerald green dress only hours ago. She was rendered speechless by his words, but his even breathing told her he had fallen asleep mere seconds after the words left him. She remained quiet, focusing all her energy on steadying her rapidly beating heart.

Lysandra's smile stayed in place until sleep claimed her.

——————————————————————————

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