26. Chapter 26

twenty-six

A s Kallessa stepped onto the brick path winding around the western part of the estate, she couldn’t help but steal another glance at Nevander. In the distant torchlight, his smooth, angular jawline and mysterious mask transformed him into something magical.

The wind whispered through the oak trees, their papery leaves rustling secrets as they ventured into the darker reaches of the grounds. A shiver ran through her, and she hugged herself against the chill.

“It feels colder than before,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nevander’s eyes flicked to the night sky. “Yes, the weather is changing. Soon it will be winter here.”

The thought of snow and ice made Kallessa’s teeth chatter. “We don’t have much of a winter in Teansong. The warm breezes from the south sea keep it temperate year-round.”

“Vaston isn’t quite so lucky,” Nevander replied with a wry smile. “We can get brutal ice storms that lock down travel and commerce for days.”

Kallessa wrinkled her nose. “Ice storms. No, thank you. I have too much of my mother’s Reykian blood to appreciate that. The cold goes right through me. ”

A gust of wind whipped a loose curl across her face. She pushed it back and snuggled deeper into Nevander’s coat. It smelled of smoldering wood smoke and warm male. If she could somehow bottle and sell that intoxicating scent, she and Aunt Gevene would be set for life.

As they rounded a corner, the towering hedges of the estate’s maze appeared, the carefully sculpted shrubbery casting eerie shadows in the moonlight.

“Is that the maze?” Kallessa whispered. It looked much more intimidating in the dark than when she’d spotted it from the upstairs window of the estate.

Nevander raised his eyebrow, a mischievous grin quirking his lips. “Up for a little adventure, my dear scullery maid?”

Kallessa bit her cheek to stifle a grin. “We don’t have a lantern. How will we find our way in the dark?”

He winked, his ornate mask glittering in the pale light. “Where’s the fun in that?”

A thrill raced through her. She’d never done anything like this before. Wandering through a maze with a masked dream of a man and only the moon for company? A chance to escape her mundane life for just one night? Yes. She was up for a little adventure.

The three-quarter moon, veiled by racing clouds, cast everything in strange highlights and shadows. Glistening limestone gravel crunched under their shoes as they entered the maze. The fragrant boxwood shrubs towered above them, pruned to vertical perfection, creating walls of greenery that seemed to close in around them.

She took Nevander’s hand. His palm radiated warmth, feeling like a furnace against her chilled skin .

“Your hands are like ice,” Nevander murmured, stopping to gently rub her other hand between his. His deep voice softened, losing its teasing edge. “We can go back.”

Kallessa shook her head. She wasn’t losing this chance. “No, I don’t want to go back. This is our night, remember?” She squeezed his fingers.

A faint smile played across Nevander’s lips. “There’s a surprise waiting at the center of the maze if you can brave the chill a bit longer.”

“I’m fine, really,” she insisted.

“You are indeed.” His eyes danced with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, more intense. He pulled his heavy jacket closer around her slender frame before reclaiming her hand.

They wound their way around path after path, the hedges seeming to shift and morph around them as they delved deeper into the labyrinth. It felt like they were going in circles, the twists and turns leaving Kallessa utterly disoriented.

“Do you know where we are?” she asked, glancing at the imposing shrubbery hemming them in on all sides. She had to look straight up to see the sky.

“Yes, of course,” Nevander responded.

She pulled him to a stop, the towering hedges surrounding them like sentinels. “How do you know?”

He gestured into the night sky with an elegant sweep of his arm. “The moon.”

That was a rather cryptic response.

“If we keep heading toward the moon, we will be walking in the same direction,” he elaborated, a faint smile playing across his lips .

Kallessa raised her eyebrows. “I thought you just followed one wall to make your way through a maze.”

“Usually you would, but this one is trickier. Queen Lyra had a master maze designer create this one.”

“Who knew there was such an occupation,” Kallessa huffed.

“They’re all the rage in Krithadean society right now. Anyway, you can’t just follow one wall in this maze.”

“So you’re just making sure we’re headed in the same direction?”

“Well, that, and I’ve been through this maze before.”

He seemed awfully familiar with a royal estate for a shipbuilder’s son. “How many times have you been here?”

“Just a couple of times, on business with my father.” There was a hint of hesitation in his voice that made Kallessa wonder what he wasn’t telling her.

A mockingbird twittered in the bushes as a breeze carried the sharp scent of boxwood. What time was it? Her feet were aching in the formal slippers she wore. Yet again she had on improper footwear for a midnight trek.

Sensing her hesitation, Nevander squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Almost there.”

She hoped so. Soon she’d either be barefooted, or he’d be carrying her. They continued, their steps muffled by the soft earth. The only sound was the whisper of leaves brushing against their clothes.

Suddenly, they turned a sharp corner, and Kallessa gasped, all thoughts of rubbing toes forgotten. There, nestled in the heart of the maze, stood a glass house. It gleamed like a jewel in the moonlight, ethereal and enchanting.

The structure, shaped like an octagon, had smooth glass walls rising to a pointed roof that seemed to pierce the night sky. The glossy surface reflected the silver-lined clouds drifting lazily above and the dark, dense bushes that surrounded it.

It was straight out of a fairytale, a secret hideaway where lovers met. The perfect place where scullery maids and stable boys snuck off together, stealing forbidden kisses and dreaming of a future beyond their station.

Nevander’s heart raced as he guided Kallessa into the octagon house. He’d known about this hidden gem for years, but had never found a reason to visit, until now. Queen Lyra’s favorite refuge stood empty tonight, as if waiting for them.

Entering was like stepping into another realm. Residual heat from the day still soaked the velvet cushioned benches lining the walls in warmth. Small stacks of leather-bound books and delicate figurines sitting on free standing shelves glowed in the moonlight. Beneath, a basket overflowed with soft furs, promising warmth against the night’s chill.

“This is enchanting,” Kallessa breathed, her fingers trailing over each surface as if memorizing its texture. She lifted a porcelain fox, turning it in the dim light filtering through leaded glass windows. Her mask caught the glow, feathers casting intricate shadows across her cheekbones.

Nevander found himself utterly captivated. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the graceful curve of her neck, the way her lips parted in wonder as she examined the space.

No, she was what made this place enchanting .

He crossed to the table, struck a match, and lit the oil lamp. Golden light spilled across Kallessa’s shimmering teal gown, transforming her into a sea goddess risen from the depths. As she turned toward him, her eyes sparkled with delight.

The distance between them felt suddenly achingly vast. Nevander closed it in three long strides, sliding his arms around her shoulders and drawing her near. “You are lovely,” he murmured.

A shiver rippled through her at his touch. He pulled her closer, reveling in the softness of her curves molding against him. Her warmth seeped through the layers of silk and linen, igniting a fire in his core.

In this secluded refuge, they were utterly alone. The rest of the world faded away, held at bay by glass walls and a labyrinth of hedges. Yet even as his soul cried out for this intimacy, a nagging voice reminded him that this was a mistake. He’d avoided being too close to her over the past two weeks, knowing his resistance was pathetically weak.

Tonight he could pretend he was a stable boy, but he wasn’t. Every action had repercussions.

He reluctantly released her and guided her to the bench seat, his fingers lingering on the soft fabric of her gown. Retrieving the plush furs from the basket, he unfolded them with a gentle shake.

“Won’t you sit with me?” Kallessa asked. Her eyes were like liquid gold in the lamplight, framed by that feathered mask. They seduced him with their molten depths, melting away his resolve as surely as spring sun on winter snow.

Nevander’s resistance crumbled. He settled into the corner of the bench, drawing her to his side. Her body pressed against him, a perfect fit. He draped the furs over them, the luxurious weight enveloping them in a cocoon of comfort, blocking out the night’s chill.

Kallessa yawned suddenly, her hand flying to cover her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, a blush staining her cheeks. “I can’t believe I just did that. Must be all the dancing catching up with me.”

Her embarrassment was endearing. “No need to apologize,” he murmured. “We’ve had quite the evening.”

She nestled closer, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. Then, softly at first, she began to sing. The melody of the Ederon Sea ballad filled the small space, wrapping around them like another layer of fur.

“There were two lovers,

Gone to sea,

The Ederon sea,

Shall separate thee.”

Her low, melodic voice whispered to his soul, weaving itself into the fabric of his being. He couldn’t imagine another place in all the world he’d rather be than right there, right then, with Kallessa in his arms.

She turned her face up to his, singing the last verse of the ballad. Her breath ghosted across his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

“Dear lover beware,

Of the Ederon sea,

Dance lightly, dear lover,

Hold tightly to me.”

I’m falling in love with you .

The words nearly burst from Nevander’s mouth, unbidden. Only years of courtly training kept them trapped behind his teeth.

No, he couldn’t be. This was just his mind playing tricks on him. It was this damn night, this damn glass house and its furs and cushions. He had no right to take her here.

Frustration mounted, his desire to hold her overwhelming his thoughts. He pulled her tighter against him, turning her body to face his. Her skirts tangled around their legs, but he didn’t care. If he didn’t kiss her lips right then, he would go mad.

Kallessa’s heart raced as Nevander pulled her onto his lap. Suddenly, his heat was everywhere. A heady mix of desire and apprehension flooded her veins, her body humming with anticipation.

“I’m not sure we should do this,” she whispered, even as her skin tingled beneath his touch. His fingers traced lazy patterns along her arms, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

A wicked grin curled Nevander’s lips, his dragon-scale mask lending him an air of danger. Kallessa’s breath caught as his summer-green eyes dropped from her gaze to her mouth.

“No one cares where the scullery maid is, do they?”

He’d used her own words against her. She bit her lower lip nervously, and his gaze darkened as it raked over her mouth.

But he pulled back slightly, refocusing on her eyes. “Kallessa,” his voice was strained, “when we were trapped behind the fireplace, I took liberties I shouldn’t have. I won’t do that to you now.” He closed his eyes briefly, as if struggling for control. When they opened again, they blazed with an intensity that burned through her. “Unless you give me permission.”

She swallowed hard, the sound deafening in the quiet darkness of the secluded glass house. Her mouth felt dry, her palms damp. Something indefinable smoldered in Nevander’s gaze, something that made her feel cherished and desired all at once.

She knew what she wanted. If only for this one night, she wanted to spend it in his arms.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Expecting the passionate onslaught from their encounter behind the fireplace, Kallessa braced herself. Instead, Nevander gently turned her around, his touch reverent.

“What—” she began, but her words dissolved as he tugged the pins from her hair, releasing each curl, and running his fingers through her locks. When the last pin fell away, he massaged her scalp, eliciting a small moan of pleasure from her throat.

“I’ve wanted to do this ever since I saw all those intricate curls and braids,” he whispered in her ear, the heat of his words turning her insides to liquid. “I wanted to run my fingers through your glorious mane.”

It was unexpected, this tenderness, this caring gesture. Why he wanted to run his fingers through her hair, she didn’t quite understand. It had always been a nuisance to her. But he made her see herself through new eyes. Not as a small dark blight on the Wynlar family name, but a beautiful woman. A desirable woman.

She turned back to face him.

“Thank you,” she said, not sure why she was thanking him, but right then, she just wanted to express gratitude for this night, this desirable man she had all to herself .

He chuckled quietly, the rich timbre of his voice sending delightful tremors through her body. “You’re easy to please.”

“It’s just...” Kallessa faltered, a knot forming in her throat. How could she finish this thought?

He cupped her cheek tenderly with his calloused palm. “When was the last time anyone took care of you, Kallessa Wynlar?” he murmured.

Her breath escaped in a shuddering sigh. How long had it been since anyone held her? Cared for her? Saw her as more than a burden or a duty?

A tear trickled down her cheek, and she whispered the answer she hadn’t even wanted to admit to herself. “Too long.”

His other palm came up to frame her face, his thumbs brushing away the dampness on her cheeks. He bent toward her, his gaze locked onto hers with an intensity that stole her breath away. His lips brushed against hers with a featherlight touch, igniting a firestorm of sensations. He trailed kisses along her damp cheeks before deftly sliding off her mask.

“No barriers between us tonight,” he murmured. Raising her hand, he guided it to the satin mask covering his face. With trembling fingers, she grasped the silky ties and pulled the mask loose, letting it flutter to the ground.

Kallessa gasped, her breath catching in her throat. Without the mask, Nevander was devastatingly handsome, even more so than she could have imagined. His features were chiseled and refined, almost angelic, with high cheekbones, full lips, and a strong jawline. He looked younger without the beard, an aristocratic face that was unlike any son of a mere shipbuilder she’d ever seen .

For a fleeting moment, he almost looked like... but she scoffed inwardly. No, of course not. It was simply her imagination running away with her.

Nevander gazed at her like she was the only person in existence. Then the rest of the world faded into oblivion as he crushed his lips against hers in a searing kiss that erased all coherent thought.

His kiss was desperate, fervent, as if their mouths were made solely for this union. The world tilted, Kallessa’s vision blurring as she surrendered to the relentless tide of his embrace. His hands traveled from her face to the curve of her waist, pulling her closer until no space remained between them.

Kallessa’s fingers tangled in his hair, reveling in its silky texture. The earthy scent of him filled her senses as he sent her spiraling into a realm of pure sensation.

Kallessa had never felt so exposed with all her clothes still on. Nevander had unlocked something within her, a world she’d only glimpsed in stolen glances between her parents. Now, she understood that silent language of lovers, the depth of connection that transcended words.

His kisses left her dizzy, aching for more. More of what? The thought both thrilled and terrified her. A deep, primal longing had taken root, unfurling like a night-blooming flower reaching for the moon.

When Nevander pulled back, she nearly whimpered at the loss. But then his fingers were there, brushing mahogany curls from her forehead with a tenderness that made her heart constrict, his fingers trailing down the curve of her back.

“I wish...” he began, his voice a husky whisper.

He never finished, but he didn’t have to. She felt the same yearning, the same desperate desire for something more. She wished for…

Everything.

He tucked the soft furs snugly around them both, pulling her against the solid warmth of his chest. His skin’s heat and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat were like the sweetest narcotic, lulling her into a hazy euphoria. She wanted more - his touch, his scent, the feeling of utter safety and contentment in his embrace.

“Tell me your favorite childhood memory,” Nevander said suddenly, his fingers idly trailing down her arm.

How could she think of just one? Her childhood had been charmed, happy. Blessed. Whatever a person wanted to call it. But as she sifted through the kaleidoscope of happy moments, one crystallized with startling clarity.

“I was twelve,” she began, her voice soft with nostalgia. “Father led me out to the field where our horses were racing and playing. He smiled and asked, ‘ are you old enough to take care of your own horse?’ I squealed with excitement and told him, yes, of course. He waved his arm across the valley and said, ‘Pick one.’”

She paused, lost in the memory. “I chose Iona, a spirited filly with a spotted tan and black coat. From that day on, she was mine to care for, to love.”

Kallessa’s voice took on a dreamy quality as she recalled those carefree days. “We chased sunrises together, galloping across open fields and rolling hills. The wind in my hair, Iona’s power beneath me... I felt invincible, like I could outrun the entire world.”

A lump formed in her throat as the stark contrast between then and now hit her. Now, she owned nothing, was no one.

“Do you still have Iona?” Nevander asked, his deep voice pulling her back to the present.

Kallessa’s chest tightened. She didn’t want to talk about horses anymore, didn’t want to dwell on all she’d lost. This night was magical, separate from the weight of her past. She wanted to preserve that feeling for as long as possible. Forcing a smile, she shook her head slowly.

“Enough about me. It’s your turn.”

A thousand memories of childhood flickered through Nevander’s mind as he held Kallessa close.

“I don’t know if I’d call this a favorite memory,” he began, his voice low and intimate in the quiet of the octagon house, “but the way your father let you pick out a horse reminds me of the day my father decided I was old enough to go to the shipyard alone.”

Kallessa snuggled closer to him and he drew the furs up around them. “I was obsessed with the shipyard when I was little. All the action, the yelling, the ships… it all fascinated me.”

“Go on,” Kallessa murmured, her voice soft and sleepy. He pulled her tighter as the memory took hold.

“When I was seven, my father had a model ship made for me that I could put together, just like the men at the shipyard.” His voice took on a wistful tone. “I spent weeks fitting each piece together, my small fingers learning the intricacies of ship construction. When I finished, I displayed it proudly for years.”

He paused, remembering the pride in his father’s eyes when he’d presented the finished model. “Every year, I begged my mother to let me go to the shipyard with my father, but she always said I was too young.”

“One day, when I was probably twelve years old, I was fed up with being told I was too little, so I snuck out and went to the docks in disguise. When I returned, my older brother was waiting for me. He’d found out and was going to tell on me, the brat that he was. We got into a fight in my bedroom and he took my model ship and slammed it to the floor, breaking all my hard work into shards of wood.”

He huffed a laugh. “I was blind with rage. I hit him as hard as I could. When my mother discovered us bruised and bloody, she told my father.”

Nevander’s voice softened. “But when father asked us what happened, my older brother never told him I’d gone to the shipyard. Instead, he said I beat him up so badly he thought his arm was broken.”

He shook his head. Tarrick always had a backward way of showing his love. He still did. It was a shame he spent all his time drowning in alcohol.

Nevander pushed the thought away, focusing on the warmth of Kallessa in his arms. “He was so convincing, Father told me if I could beat up my older brother, I could defend myself in the shipyard. From that day forward, I could come and go as I pleased. ”

He didn’t add that he still had guards trailing him at a respectable distance, but that wasn’t the purpose of the story.

“I never understood why my brother told Father I beat him up until years later. I finally realized he saw how much I wanted to go and devised a plan to convince Father I wasn’t a baby anymore.”

Nevander murmured, exasperation coloring his voice. “My brother, always the trickster.”

Glancing down at Kallessa, his breath caught in his throat. Her eyes had closed, soft breaths escaping her parted lips. She looked ethereal in the dim light, her long lashes fanning across her cheeks and her curls spilling over his arm.

A fierce longing gripped him. Would it be so wrong if they just stayed there, cocooned in their own private world? Gently, he slid his arm around her, easing her snugly against his chest as he gazed out through the glass walls of the solarium, watching the trees sway in the breeze.

There, to the north, were the seven bright stars that made up Enkin’s Ship, the constellation that had guided him home from the dark depths of the sea more times than he could count. Enkin, the sea captain who’d risked everything to carry the queen’s heart with him on a perilous journey to return it to her. It was his most precious cargo, and he fought a raging tempest all night, battling crashing waves and howling winds to make it safely back to her.

Yet Enkin never made it.

Nevander’s throat tightened as he glanced down at Kallessa’s sleeping face again. How much of a tempest would he fight for her? What if tonight was all they had?

He traced a finger down her cheek. Then, tonight, he would dream with Kallessa in his arms, her soft curves molded against him, her floral scent enveloping his senses. He ran his palm across his now smooth jawline. And if tomorrow, the world burned and crumbled to ash, at least he would have this perfect memory to hold on to.