Chapter 39

Chapter 39

T he knock on Ciana’s door was soft—a gentle rap on the solid wood.

She shuffled across her room, butterflies dancing in her stomach. Gripping the brassy knob, she opened the door with a flourish.

In the doorway stood Sebastian, dressed comfortably in a deep green cotton t-shirt and brown pants, an easy smile on his lips and a veil of hesitation in his hazel eyes.

Ciana stared at him, mind emptying, even though she’d been expecting him. “Hi,” she said a little dumbly.

“Hi,” he murmured back. His brown hair was short and neat, his hands slipped too casually into his pockets. Through his shirt, she could see the lines of the warrior’s body hiding beneath his polished, studious exterior, his stance too solid to be anything other than that of a man trained to be always on alert.

Gods, he was handsome. All the men in Mariah’s Armature were attractive, but something about Sebastian tugged at Ciana’s gut in an uncomfortable, unfamiliar way. The way he was kind, but strong and smart and masculine …

Heat burned in her cheeks. What was she thinking? This was her friend.

Just her friend.

Just her kind, handsome friend with dark hair, a sweet smile, and great abs.

Ciana had been used by men all her life. She was still plagued by nightmares and mourned the loss of her childhood and innocence. Men had never made her comfortable, and she’d long resigned herself to a life on her own.

The thought of feeling anything genuine toward a man was like a silly little fantasy. Trust one of those monsters? Never.

But there she stood, smiling like an idiot up at a man she’d learned to trust over a few too many late nights while sharing the finest bottles of palace wine. A man who had listened as she shared all her dark, poisonous secrets. Who’d helped her adjust to a new life and had never once shied away from the things she shared. Had never once made her feel anything less than her .

Not that anything more than friendship would—could—ever happen between them. Despite whatever bond they built, Sebastian was still Mariah’s. His soul was bonded to hers for eternity. He would live hundreds of years by her side, forever young and strong, while Ciana would grow old and eventually leave this earth the same way she’d entered it.

Alone.

Sebastian chuckled softly and she blinked up at him in surprise. He pushed off the door frame, straightening his shoulders.

“Ready to get that beer?”

“How, exactly, did you find this place?”

Ciana tossed her head, golden ringlets spilling around her shoulders. The sun was out and shining today, and she reveled in the warmth on her skin, her dour thoughts from earlier long suppressed behind her familiar radiant mask.

“It’s a long story. Maybe one for another day.” She shot Sebastian a glance, tossing him a wink. “Or perhaps, after I have that beer in front of me.”

A grin tugged at Sebastian’s lips. “It’s quite an interesting name. Unusual for an establishment in the golden city to be called The Silver Moon.”

Ciana nodded, somewhat absently. She’d remembered thinking the same thing the day she and Delaynie first stumbled upon this place.

So much had changed since then, and yet so much was the same. Mariah was back, and she was safe, but things still felt so uncertain. Not only with the allume issues causing hysteria in the city, but the angry conversations she’d shared with Sebastian. About the way a wall still felt like it existed between them despite his relaxed demeanor.

She forced a bright smile. “The ale is the best in the city. The name is just a bonus.” She grabbed Sebastian’s forearm, trying not to think about the way the muscles there tensed and flexed under his skin or the way heat coursed through her from where they touched, and pulled him toward the awning and through the door.

The tavern was much the same as she’d remembered it—bright and warm, allume lights overhead illuminating the polished bar and long rows of tables. However, unlike the last time she’d been here, the tavern was packed nearly to the brim with off-duty soldiers and other city patrons alike, the loudness of their comfortable chatter wrapping around her like an old friend.

“Girl!” a female voice rang out over the din.

Beva stood behind the bar with a broad grin stretched across her warm face, four full pints of ale in her hands, and two dishtowels slung across her shoulders. The barkeep set the mugs down, pushing them toward the patrons, before waving Ciana towards the other end of the bar. Ciana followed her pointing and spotted two stools tucked neatly at the end, the last open spots.

“C’mon,” she said brightly to Sebastian, sliding her hand down his forearm and latching onto his hand. She once again tried not to think about the way her cheeks flushed and her core burned a touch hotter when his fingers curled around hers as he let her drag him through the throngs of boisterous patrons.

It only took a few moments of maneuvering before Ciana was pulling herself into one of the open stools, dropping—somewhat unwillingly—Sebastian’s hand in the process. She forced herself to fold them neatly on the bar, waiting for Beva to finish her round. Sebastian settled onto the stool beside her, his thigh brushing hers.

The silence between them was a little awkward, but just as Ciana was about to turn to Sebastian, Beva appeared.

“I was wondering when I’d see you again, blondie! Should I pour you the good gin, same as before?”

Ciana ignored the look Sebastian shot her, eyebrows raised. She smiled sweetly at the barkeep, fingers drumming on the polished wood.

“Not today, Beva. We’re here for a few pints of your coldest ale.”

Beva’s attention turned to Sebastian, surveying him with that same sharp, too-perceptive stare. “Is this him? The boy?”

This time, it was embarrassment that made Ciana’s cheeks flush with burning heat. She was sure even the tips of her ears turned scarlet and was glad they were hidden beneath her full-bodied curls.

“‘The boy?’” Sebastian repeated, turning to Ciana with a shit-eating grin. “Is that what I am now?”

“Beva,” Ciana squeaked, swallowing past her embarrassment. “This is Sebastian. Sebastian, this is Beva, the owner of The Silver Moon.” She refused to look at him but could feel his grin widen.

“Pleasure to meet you, Beva,” Sebastian said warmly, extending his hand to the barkeep. Beva gripped it, shaking firmly, the way only a businesswoman who’d spent her whole life catering to soldiers would know how.

“Seems much busier than last time, Beva! Did we miss an invite to something?” Ciana asked, desperate to change the subject.

Beva grinned. “Shift change, dearie. Just have to learn when the guards rotate their watches, that’s all.”

Ciana relaxed slightly into her stool. “I wasn’t sure you would remember me.”

“Oh, I never forget a face, girl. Especially one belonging to Her Majesty’s court.” She tossed Ciana a wink. “Let me get you two those ales.” She left them, pausing along the way as she was flagged down by a few other patrons.

It took Ciana a few moments before she felt the warmth of Sebastian’s gaze. She tilted her head to find him studying her intently.

“She knows who you are.” His words were light, but the question in them was clear.

Ciana glanced at her hands resting on the bar. “A few weeks ago, when …” She took a deep breath. “When Delaynie and I went with Kiira and Rylla into the city to look for signs of Mariah, we got frustrated with how the residents were refusing to talk to us. Kiira and Rylla suggested they go off on their own, and Del and I … well, we decided we needed a drink.”

Ciana braced herself for Sebastian’s familiar anger that always sparked when her brazen trip to the city was mentioned. This time, however, he was silent, watching her with a slight furrow to his brow.

“And is that when you told her who you were?”

Ciana snorted, relief rushing through her like a broken dam. “Gods, no. She just … guessed. Said she saw my palace horse, and since not many were allowed to freely come and go from the palace, she put the two together. And,” Ciana said with a smile, “she said she knew Mariah’s parents. ”

“That I did, my dear,” chimed that familiar feminine voice. Beva set two full pints of amber ale on the bar top, gray eyes sparkling. “I have known Wex and Lisabel for many years, ever since they were barely older than teenagers. I’m glad to hear our young queen has returned safe.”

Ciana stiffened. Mariah’s disappearance and return were no secret—it couldn’t be—but Sebastian was more protective of that information than any of them.

But, to her surprise, Sebastian only tipped his head graciously. “We are glad as well, Beva. I’ll be sure to give Mariah your kind words,” he said.

Beva nodded, glancing one more time at Ciana, before walking away to see to the other patrons.

Chest squeezing at Sebastian’s calmness, Ciana leaned forward and took a deep, long drink from her ale. It was crisp and cold, the rich flavors of malt and barley and honey exploding across her tongue. She groaned slightly before licking her lips and setting down the mug, now close to half-empty.

Sebastian was acting like how he’d been before . Before Mariah was taken. Before he blamed himself. And for just a moment, Ciana forced her worries from her mind.

When she turned to Sebastian, he was smiling, but there was the touch of a shadow across his handsome features.

She furrowed her brow. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” He sipped his ale, then stared down at the mug. “Gods, that’s good.”

Ciana chuckled. “You’re welcome.”

He set down his glass. “Actually,” he began, running a finger down the side of the glass. She tracked his movement, swallowing heavily. He turned to face her.

“I wanted to apologize to you. For real, this time.”

She flushed again and looked away. “You already apologized.”

“Not in the way I wanted to. I—I had no right to say the things I said or to keep you locked up in the palace. I never should have dismissed you like that. I’m sorry, and I hope you can forgive me.”

Ciana refused to look at him. Instead, she slid her fingers along the cold rim of her glass, the beads of moisture coating her hands. “You just … you have no idea how trapped I felt. I was scared and vulnerable, and instead of letting me help and do something, you locked me up behind those pretty doors. Just like …” She sniffed, quickly wiping a hand across her cheek and glaring at her glass. “Just like they used to do.”

Even though the tavern was boisterously loud, the silence between them stretched thick and heavy. Ciana’s emotions—all that pain and trauma and terror she’d grown up knowing as her companion—exploded wildly through her chest, and she grasped desperately for control to keep the tears from spilling down her face. She took another sip from her ale, and just as she placed it back on the bar, a large hand wrapped around her own.

“Ciana.”

She pulled her gaze to Sebastian’s, and her stomach dropped at the way he looked at her.

He looked … devastated.

His thumb stroked idly across the back of her hand, and she gulped, some of the ache in her chest fading at the touch.

“I am … so sorry,” he murmured, holding her gaze with so much intensity she thought her heart would burst. “For how I was. I was just so hopeless, and I felt like … like a failure. But I was selfish about it, because even though I wasn’t the only one who felt that way, I acted like I was. I lost sight of myself, and if you never forgive me for that, I’ll understand.” He sighed, his thumb still tracing maddening circles across her skin. “It wasn’t fair of me to take any of it out on you, or to remind you of those monsters. Mariah may be my queen, but you will always be my friend.”

More tears prickled behind Ciana’s eyes, and with a sniff she again wiped them away with the back of her hand.

“You’re a softy, you know that?”

Sebastian grinned, loosening a light chuckle. “I prefer to think of myself as ‘emotionally available.’”

“Alright, that’s too far. No need to indulge in that sort of flattery.”

His smile widened, so brilliant that something in her chest cracked. His beauty was radiant, and it was unfair that his heart shined just as bright.

Too bad it would never work between them. For thousands and thousands of reasons.

She pulled her hand from his, reluctance straining her movement, and reached for her ale. They both took a few sips, watching the crowds around them in companionable silence before she steeled herself and turned to him again.

“There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

He glanced at her through his thick lashes. “Oh?”

She tightened her jaw and lifted her chin. “When are you going to stop punishing Andrian for something we all know he didn’t do?”

In an instant, the warmth vanished from his eyes. The mask of the cool commander slid over his face, hardening everything about him. “We don’t know for certain it wasn’t him.”

Ciana scoffed. “I know you’re not an idiot, Sebastian. You’ve known Andrian longer than any of us. He’s an ass, sure, and I know we were all a bit worried there in the beginning, but I am willing to bet that Enfara itself would freeze over before he would ever willingly hurt her.”

“He’s the one who took her, Cee.”

“And he claims he was just as trapped as she was.” She glared back at him. “You’ve called him your brother before. I didn’t know being family meant turning your back on someone the second those loyalties are tested.”

Sebastian was tense and angry, scowling as he held her stare. Then, as if a breeze washed through the tavern, his mood lifted, a thundercloud vanishing on a morning wind. He loosened a great exhale and sagged.

“You’re right,” he said. “I just … I need to do something. I can’t just sit here as she’s in pain.”

This time, it was Ciana who reached out a hand to him, resting it lightly on his broad shoulder. “I understand,” she said. “But … you can’t protect her from everything. And this decision? What to do with a member of her own Armature, especially him? She needs to be the one to decide. Not you.”

He looked at her, then at the hand on his shoulder, then back at her. With another breath, he deflated further, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the bar.

Beva reappeared, two fresh mugs full of ale in her hands.

“We looked like we needed a refill down here.” She set the pints on the bar, swiping away the now-empty glasses. Ciana reached for hers just as Sebastian did. She turned to him, glass lifted.

“Cheers,” she said, “to having our queen home and not knowing what the fuck happens next.”

With a spark of hope and glee in her heart, Sebastian turned to her, lifting his own ale. A smile spread across his handsome face.

“Now that, I’ll cheers to.”

As their glasses clinked and Ciana lost herself in the mug and in Sebastian’s friendship, she felt genuine happiness.