Chapter 39

B aron hardly breathed as he watched Aria read. All night, he'd dueled his feelings, resisting something that could either remake him or destroy what was left. Then she'd kissed his cheek in the guest room, called him incredible rather than dangerous, and he'd realized the match was already decided. It had been since her letter.

His reply was the shortest of any they'd exchanged, but he'd rewritten it three times and then reread it enough to have every word memorized.

My Dearest Aria,

So that you may have the words from my own hand: I love you. I thought to pinpoint the moment it happened, but the moment doesn't matter, because looking back on our encounters, I can only think it obvious I should have loved you from the start. If the choice is mine, I ask for a place at your side for the rest of our lives and forever.

I would sign with all my heart, but it is yours already.

Baron

After keeping her eyes down long enough she must have read it twice, Aria refolded the letter and hugged it. She looked up with tearful eyes, her lips slightly parted, such raw emotion in her expression that he instinctively stepped toward her, cradling her face in his hands, his bare fingers chill with nerves against her warm skin.

"You've done it again," she whispered as a tear dripped down her cheek.

"Would you like me to stop?"

In answer, she laced her arms around his back, pulling him closer, removing any distance left between them. Baron's heart thundered, and he found himself shy. Not because he didn't want what she wanted, but because he wanted it so deeply he feared getting it all wrong.

"I've never kissed anyone," he blurted.

She was close enough that he felt her breath across his cheek, and the warmth of it melted his spine, leaving him wobbly on his feet. Clearly he wasn't thinking straight, ruining the moment with words, yet he couldn't stop.

"There was a girl at Fairfax who nearly ... Well, as it turns out, it was only by dare that she came close to me to begin with, and, in the end, the fear of being touched by a Caster proved too much for her to follow through. Most people would not regard it as safe."

Aria was smiling. Not in a mocking way but in an adoring way, her eyes focused on his with such purpose he felt she saw straight through to his soul.

"Baron," she whispered. "Kiss me."

He wasn't fool enough to be told twice.

He sank his fingers into her carefully woven hair and pressed his lips to hers.

His magic—alert since she'd removed his gloves—now woke fully. For the moment, he held it at bay, wanting nothing to distract him from the feel of her lips softening against his, meeting him without fear. The feel of her arms clasping against his back, trying to draw him closer even though there was no space left between them. He smiled, breaking the kiss for a moment to catch a glimpse of her dark eyes, filled with the same wonder that surely must have reflected in his.

A Caster and a princess. It defied logic. But defiance had always been something of a specialty for Baron, and it had never been more delicious.

Leaning into the kiss again, he wrapped one arm around her waist, his other hand too enticed by her bare skin to stay away. His fingertips explored the shape of her jaw, the lobe of her ear, the wisps of hair at the nape of her neck. She gave a little sigh at his touch.

Overcoming restraint at last, his magic sang its own praises of Aria. The awareness of his own heartbeat faded as the song of her filled his every sense, tangling magic and truth, pounding like a rhythm he wanted to march to the rest of his life. She smelled like lilacs in summer and like ink in a letter; she tasted like lemon icing and mercy in the dark. He felt the silk of her gown and the urgency of her lips, asking more of him than he'd ever given and, miraculously, treasuring each surrender.

Then her curse reared, a hand silencing a reverberating drum, spilling like a dark stain over what had been a bright awareness.

Baron's magic screamed warning, and despite himself, he broke the kiss, stepping back in a retreat from the monster inside Aria.

"What's wrong?" Aria asked, a slight touch of panic in her voice.

Baron swallowed. "The curse. It's louder than before."

He hated the despair that shadowed her expression. He could spare her from this, if only he could be strong enough to use his power.

He had to use it.

"Close your eyes," he whispered.

Without hesitation, her lashes fluttered closed.

She trusted him.

She trusted him.

Baron gently brought his hands to the curve of her jawline once more, brushing one thumb along her cheek. He pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and listening with magic to the song only he could hear. Her blood was like wine laced with poison, tainted in every drop, so thoroughly mixed he could not hope to find where poison began and Aria ended.

You have to .

He tried to sort the confusion, tried to guide his magic in a way that would isolate the curse, allow him to catch hold of it. But it slipped like a shadow through his fingers. His head began to ache with the effort of it.

They stood in silence, Baron's back pressed to the wall of the narrow enclosure as surely as it was pressed to the wall in the currently raging battle. The beast inside the girl he loved swallowed his every attack without flinching, and Baron's mind kept flickering back to his father's bedside, back to a day of darkness, back to—

Without meaning to, Baron gasped, sweat breaking out across his brow.

"Baron," Aria said gently. "It's all right."

His eyes shot open. "Am I hurting you?"

He was affecting her blood, after all. He'd not considered how it would feel from her side of things. Yet when he tried to step away, she caught his hands tightly in hers.

"It doesn't hurt. All I feel is tingling. Like kneeling too long and then standing. But you have to know, if you can't help me, it's all right."

He looked away. "How could that ever be all right?"

"Because I know—"

"Hey, lovebirds," drawled a new voice. "Get out of my passageway."

Aria gasped in surprise. Baron closed his eyes in a grimace. Had he been in possession of his cane, he would have used it to shove Leon back down the hallway into the kitchen.

"Leon," Baron warned. "Scat."

"It's my passageway, I said."

"I thought you didn't need it, since everything is already in the serving room."

"It was, but then I got bored and made these new meltaways. Pecan and sweet potato—learned that from the top-cut castle cook. Besides, you were supposed to bring Lady Highness to the kitchen already, so I thought you'd given up on the surprise."

Baron pressed his fist to his mouth, an attempt to hold back anything he'd regret.

Aria, ever graceful, asked if she could try one of the coin-sized cookies.

Leon lifted the tray proudly, then waited to hear her verdict.

"These are delicious!"

"Of course they are. I made them."

"And those lemon-chili cookies! I've never tasted anything like them before, where the spice seemed to enhance the sweetness. You're so inventive."

Leon started purring quite audibly. Aria's eyes widened, but to her credit, it was the only reaction she gave.

"Yes, I'm a cat," Leon said. "It's not fair if only the crow gets to be himself."

"Well, it won't be much of a surprise "—Baron shot Leon a look—"but there's something waiting for you in the kitchen."

"Gifts?" Aria blinked, staring at the small kitchen table. "Plural?"

Baron smiled, settling with his back against the pantry cupboards, arms folded across his chest. "I'm aware your birthday was several months ago, but seeing as we missed it, today seemed a good occasion for reparations."

"There's no need to make a fuss!"

"A fuss we have made," said Corvin.

"Open mine first," said Leon.

Despite her protests, Aria set into things with a smile. Leon's gift was a cake of his own invention, light and airy, topped with fresh lemons and sprinkled sugar.

"She's probably already full from the stuff in the serving room," Corvin said.

Leon shrugged. "You don't have to eat it, I guess—although you'll be missing out—but it's the name that's the gift. I call it ‘Highness Cake,' because it's the kind of highness you are. High enough to make a real impact, but no so high it's left everybody behind."

Aria gave him a hug, which he wriggled out of immediately.

Corvin handed her a small bundle of cloth next.

"The best crown princess," Aria read from the attached note, "should have the best crown. May it keep you light as a feather. Happy Birthday."

She unfolded the cloth to reveal a delicate navy hair comb decorated with a bit of black lace and crow feathers.

"Not mine," Corvin said quickly. "That would be like giving you my hair."

Leon said, "So you gave her some other bird's hair. Classy."

"I love it." Aria pulled Corvin into a hug that he readily returned.

She unpinned her sapphire hairnet, shaking her dark locks loose with her fingers and doing terrible things to Baron's heart. Then, after two failed attempts, she managed a tight twist of her hair, using the comb to hold it in place.

"I don't often do this myself," she admitted with a touch of red in her cheeks, tilting her head back and forth. "How does it look?"

Since his brothers were present, Baron resisted the urge to pull the comb right back out and resume what he and Aria had started in the hallway. Instead, he simply said, "Beautiful."

"Now you can climb the palace easily!" Corvin grinned. "And you won't get hurt if you fall, at least not from a reasonable distance, like a rooftop."

"How ... ?" Aria touched the comb again.

"It's an Artifact, Affiliate-style. Well, the feathers are." The boy danced one nervous step to the side. "Do you hate it now?"

"Certainly not. Although I can't promise to go leaping off roofs to test it out."

"If you wanted, I could actually let you fly. It's really—"

Baron cleared his throat sternly. "There will be no transforming the princess into a crow, thank you. She has enough magic to deal with as is."

Still, he couldn't fault the twins for a bit of excitement. Having someone other than Baron and Silas to be themselves around was a rare treasure.

Aria was a rare treasure.

She opened the final gift on the table, a bottle of wine from Baron; he'd always been more practical than creative in gift giving. All the same, she kissed his cheek in thanks, and that made any effort worth it.

"We'd best head back," he said. "I've robbed the party of both its host and guest of honor. Even with a three-room maze to lose us in, the absence won't go unnoticed forever."

Aria nodded, though she seemed distracted. She touched the back of her hair again. "I never thought to wonder what sort of magic Affiliates could perform. Shapeshift— it seemed self-evident. When I went to Northglen, I thought I was safe so long as I didn't drink anything Widow Morton had touched. That mistake cost me dearly, and there's still so much I don't know."

"To be fair," Corvin said, "you've only asked Baron about it. He's only one half of Casters, and Casters are only one half of magic. We're here too."

"What would it take for you to turn me into a crow, like you said?"

Baron tensed.

"Just some blood, like if I scratched you with a talon."

"At least that's a common theme I can follow."

She seemed so relaxed , standing next to two Affiliates and a Caster. If Baron had carried any doubt about the truth of her feelings from her letter, he couldn't doubt it now, not while she asked Corvin questions about transforming into a crow as if they were simply discussing the way he trained falcons.

Then Corvin surprised him by saying, "Fluid and Stone Casters used to be called something different, you know. They used to be Blood and Bone Casters."

Baron frowned. "How do you know that?"

"I read it in one of those books you used to have stashed under your floorboards."

"I found them first," Leon said proudly. "Baron thought we didn't know, but you can't hide something in a house from a cat."

In answer to Aria's questioning expression, Baron gave a sigh. "Family heirlooms, from my birth mother's side in Patriamere. They contained information about magic that's been lost in Loegria."

"May I read them?" Aria asked eagerly.

"I'm afraid they've been destroyed. My stepmother burned them when she left, though I still don't understand why."

Leon paled at the mention of his mother, and Corvin retook the conversation as if determined to bury any reminder of her.

"Anyway," he said firmly, "all magic ties to blood and bone, whether you're changing your own or someone else's. That's how Leon and I transform. That's how Baron makes tea or a Stone Caster makes a statue. When you think about it, rock and water are just the blood and bone of the earth."

"It's fascinating." Aria sighed. "But I'm afraid it doesn't help me stop Widow Morton. Unless you're willing to turn her into a crow for me."

"Oh, I'd do it! I'd peck her eyes out. But it wouldn't stop anything she'd already Cast. I'm sorry."

Aria smiled anyway. She caught Baron's gaze and nodded toward the door. But then Leon spoke up. The boy stood against the wall with his arms crossed over his brown apron. He kept his eyes on the other side of the kitchen.

"It's not what you don't know about magic," he said quietly. "It's what you don't know about Charlie."

Corvin frowned. "Since when did you know Charlie Morton?"

"Since Baron's eighteenth birthday party when Dad got too excited about his grown-up firstborn and invited half the court to overrun the house. I wasn't even allowed in the kitchen. Dad thought I'd get too worked up and transform in front of everybody."

Baron clenched his jaw. His father's worry over his two youngest sons had often kept them prisoners in their own house.

Then again, Baron had let Corvin fly to the palace, and he'd been discovered. If it had been anyone but Aria, it would have been a fatal mistake. He wondered what his father would think of him now, when he'd managed to fail every duty entrusted to him, from care of his title to care of his brothers.

Then he thought of Aria's words. I can say with certainty that Lord Guillaume exemplifies every attribute of his father.

Dared he imagine his father would feel the same? That he'd be proud of Baron's efforts even considering the results?

"I know birdbrain flew away when Dad wasn't looking," Leon went on, "but I couldn't. Then Charlie Morton came sneaking into my room. He'd been prowling all over the house, even lifted something from Dad's study. Sticky hands. He couldn't resist sneaking anywhere, he said."

"It's what got him killed," Aria whispered.

"That's not what got him killed." Leon's expression hardened. "Not really."

"Leon, what are you saying?" Though Baron had a sinking feeling he already knew.

"I promised him I'd never tell anyone, not even beak-face, and I don't know if it will even help to tell. It's not like it will bring him back." Leon glanced at Aria, a deep pain in his brown eyes. "But you didn't turn Corvin in when he was an idiot, so ... if there's any chance it does help, I'll tell you. Charlie was a cat like me."