43. Chapter 43

forty-three

E very house has a personality, a certain essence from years of hosting its inhabitants. The walls absorb the laughter and tears and smells of home, becoming imbued with memories.

That’s how Kallessa knew where she was before even opening her eyes. If she dwelled on that familiar essence, she could hear Blain’s laughter echoing down the hall as he chased the family cat, her mother’s off-tune singing from the stables, her father’s pen scratching parchment as vanilla scented pipe smoke wafted through his office door.

She even knew what room she was in. The guest bedroom, the one with the east-facing bay window, the one she’d snuck off to when she wanted to be alone with the sunrise. That sunrise now fell across her eyelids, tinting her unseen world a soft pink.

Instead of opening her eyes, Kallessa took stock of her body. Her limbs felt sore and heavy, her stomach hollow and aching, but the agonizing pain in her head and throat were blessedly gone.

She tried to swallow, but her parched throat triggered a coughing fit. Her ribs screamed in protest as she gasped for air.

A chair scraped across the floor and stumbling footsteps had her jerking her eyes open. Everything was blurry, and she struggled to blink, trying to clear her vision .

Warm, powerful arms encircled her. A glass appeared before her, and she grasped it with trembling hands. Water cascaded down her chin as she gulped greedily, the cool liquid pure ecstasy. She drained the glass and fell back against the pillows with a sigh, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Better?” a familiar, deep voice rumbled. One she didn’t think she would ever hear again. She suddenly became attuned to the warm arm still wrapped around her shoulders, the deep breathing of another being with her.

Her eyes fluttered open. “You,” she whispered, barely a breath escaping her lips.

Nevander’s wistful smile wrenched her insides. “Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry I was late.” The soothing timbre of his voice resonated through her bones.

Confusion clouded her mind. “Late? Why are you here… at all?” She tried to order her fractured memories, but came up short. “Why am I here?” Panic surged through her veins. “Uncle Talos—”

A growl vibrated from Nevander’s chest. “He will never touch you again.” The ferocity in his words should have terrified her, but instead, it flooded her veins with a sense of security she hadn’t known in years.

Suddenly, he crushed her against him, his heady scent overwhelming her. Hot tears burned her eyes as the memory of that freezing, dark cell rushed back. She clung to him desperately, craving his heat, the strength in his embrace.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, rocking her gently.

“But why are you here?” she asked again, voice muffled against his shirt .

Nevander pulled back, his intense gaze boring into her. Emerald eyes flecked with silver in the morning light. Dark circles and stress lines marred his unshaven face. A purplish bruise swelled under one eye.

And she’d never seen anything more beautiful.

Her eyebrows drew together. “Is that a black eye?”

His mouth quirked into a half-smile. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

Then reality crashed over her. This was Prince Nevander Lionskye of the kingdom of Dracia. Cradling her in bed.

This was all wrong. “My lord,” she began, the honorific feeling alien on her tongue.

He gripped her tighter. “Please,” he whispered into her hair, “please don’t call me that. I am still Nevander. Your Nevander. And I’m so sorry I deceived you. It was wrong.”

Dizziness washed over Kallessa as she struggled to make sense of his words, to piece together the fragments of memory that eluded her. It was all too much to process on an empty stomach and with her limbs still heavy with bone-deep exhaustion. She wanted answers, but the effort of forming coherent thoughts seemed utterly draining.

“You asked why I’m here,” Nevander said softly.

“Yes,” she replied, her brow furrowed.

“What do you remember?”

Kallessa’s mind whirled. She searched those piercing green depths that had haunted her dreams since the masquerade ball. A night that now seemed like a beautiful illusion, shattered by harsh reality.

“You are the prince, are you not?” Her voice trembled as she tried to put distance between them. But even as she pushed back, her gaze remained locked with his, that intense, agonized look darkening with anguish.

Nevander’s expression was raw, vulnerable. “I know my reputation precedes me, but I beg you to look past it. It’s just me, Nevander. I swear I’m no different from the man you first met.”

The man she’d first met... That rough soldier whose piercing stare had sent shivers down her spine, a heady mix of fear and intrigue. And now, to learn that same man was a prince—a prince she should never have crossed paths with.

“That may be true, but I know we must part ways. Please don’t make this harder than it is already for me.” Kallessa’s voice quavered. “As soon as I can dress, I will head back home and out of your hair, my lord.”

Kallessa didn’t even know what day it was, or why Uncle Talos hadn’t come breathing down her neck, demanding her removal. It hurt to be here again, surrounded by memories, only to have to leave once more. It had been five long years since she’d stepped foot on these grounds, since the day of the will reading when Talos kicked her out with barely the clothes on her back.

Nevander’s, no, the prince’s , eyes looked stricken at her words. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a commotion at the door.

“Cousin!” Dovina’s shrill voice pierced the air as she burst into the room, nearly knocking Nevander aside in her haste. She flung herself at Kallessa, enveloping her in a suffocating embrace. “I’m so sorry! Please forgive me. I had no idea what happened. Oh, I’m such a foolish girl!”

Kallessa’s heart clenched as Nevander’s warmth disappeared, leaving a cold void where his arms had been moments before. She watched him retreat to the far side of the room, his face an unreadable mask.

Dovina’s cloying rose perfume assaulted Kallessa’s senses, making her head spin. She struggled to breathe as her cousin’s frilly lace top obscured her vision.

“Give the girl some room to breathe, my lady,” a familiar voice rang out. Kallessa’s heart leapt at the sound.

“Penny?” Kallessa whispered, hardly daring to hope it could be her old friend and handmaiden.

“Yes, my lady, it’s me,” the young woman confirmed with a warm smile as she strode to the bedside, a silver tray balanced gracefully in her hands. “Quit suffocating her so she can eat something. Poor dear, you must be starving after your ordeal.”

As Dovina finally released her, Kallessa’s gaze darted to Nevander. He sat motionless, staring out the window. The hollow ache in her stomach had nothing to do with hunger.

Penny fussed over her, fluffing pillows and setting the tray in her lap. The familiar robin’s egg blue china with dancing daffodils hit Kallessa with the ferocity of a bucking stallion. Her mother’s china. A tidal wave of grief crashed over her, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped between sobs. “I don’t know why I’m crying. ”

In an instant, Nevander was there, his face a dark thundercloud. “She’s been through enough. Give her some space.” He slid onto the bed, pulling Kallessa into his lap.

The world tilted as she found herself pressed against every hard plane of his body. Heat bloomed wherever they touched, and a dizzying cocktail of desire and comfort flooded her veins. The tray shuffled about, splashing the cup of broth before he settled them both, cocooning her in his protective hold.

“You are dismissed,” Nevander commanded Penny. “I’ll take care of her.”

Penny’s eyebrows shot up, but she curtsied and left, throwing a concerned glance over her shoulder.

“You can talk to her later, Dovina,” Nevander cut in as Dovina opened her mouth to speak. Thankfully, her cousin closed it with a snap and retreated, the door clicking softly behind her.

Kallessa’s body thrummed with awareness. Nevander’s scent enveloped her, a heady mix of clove and cedar that made her head spin.

“Now relax,” he whispered, his breath stirring tendrils of her hair. “You need to eat. Get your strength back.”

Tears still leaked from her eyes, and he swiped them away with the pad of his calloused thumb before he reached for the plump, ripe plum and held it to her mouth, rubbing the sweet juicy fruit against her lips. She opened her mouth obediently, and he fed it to her, letting his fingers linger along her lips as he pulled away, sending tingles down her spine.

Then he had her drink the broth, then eat a tea cake. She was so enthralled by his fingers and the nearness of him, she finished everything in record time. A flush crept up her cheeks as she savored it, his masculine scent and touch sending tingles through her body.

With a full stomach and Nevander’s warmth surrounding her, exhaustion crashed over Kallessa in a heavy wave. She laid her head against his chest with a contented sigh, her eyelids growing heavier by the second.

He nuzzled her hair, his scent blending with the lingering scents of sweet cakes and plums as she drifted off, cradled in his arms. She had never felt so safe, so cherished, so satisfied in her life. She knew deep down that things couldn’t stay like this forever, but for the moment, she only wanted to dream. So she did.

Kallessa jolted awake to distant shouts and a prickling sense of danger. A slender woman with startling white hair stood by her bed, eyes like chipped ice.

“Drink,” the stranger commanded in a lilting accent, pressing a small cup to Kallessa’s lips.

Kallessa’s heart raced as she pushed the cup away, struggling to sit up. Before she could demand answers, the door burst open. Her stomach clenched with dread as Uncle Talos loomed over her, a wreck of his usually impeccable self. His suit hung wrinkled and half-unbuttoned, his hair wild, his face sprouting a week’s worth of splotchy gray stubble.

Whiskey fumes assaulted her as he leaned in, raising his arm. Kallessa flinched, bracing for the blow—but it never came. The white-haired woman had stepped between them, a dagger glinting at Talos’s neck.

“Come an inch closer, and I will slit your throat,” the stranger said, her voice unwavering despite her slight frame.

Uncle Talos’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but he froze in place, wisely leaning back out of reach of her knife’s deadly caress. He retreated to the edge of the room, near the doorway, before continuing his drunken tirade. “You filthy urchin,” he hissed, fists clenched. “I don’t know how you did it, but you will pay for this. No child of that woman—”

She didn’t know what he was talking about, but a surge of defiance rose within Kallessa at her uncle’s vile words. All her life, she’d endured his cruelty and disdain, but this time was different. She was no longer that helpless child whose life he had upended with a careless whim.

Kallessa pushed herself up against the pillows, ignoring the protest of her aching body. She met Talos’s glare with an unwavering gaze of her own.

“You will not speak ill of my mother,” she said, her voice clear and resolute despite the rawness in her throat. “She was a woman of grace, kindness, and love. Qualities you could never hope to possess.”

Talos scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer. “That whore was nothing but a disgrace, seducing my brother with her low-born wiles. She deserved far worse than a carriage accident for tainting the noble Wynlar bloodline.”

Every word pierced her heart, but Kallessa refused to flinch. She thought of the day she’d told Nevander she was no longer a lady. He’d told her that being a lady had nothing to do with who your parents were. She hadn’t really understood his meaning then. Now she did. And with that understanding came an exhilarating freedom.

“I feel sorry for you, uncle.” Even if she continued to be penniless and under his thumb, he no longer held power over her self-worth. She would honor her family’s love and legacy by becoming the woman they raised her to be.

Three burly soldiers barged in, seizing the struggling Talos. Kallessa watched in shock as they wrestled him from the room, his drunken shouts fading down the hallway. Dovina’s pleading voice drifted up the stairs, indistinct but unmistakable.

The blond turned back to her, cup still in hand. “Drink this,” she repeated, her tone firm.

“No.” Kallessa pushed her hand away again, eyeing the stranger warily. “Who are you? What’s going on? Where’s Dovina?” A knot of dread formed in her stomach. She was afraid to ask about Nevander’s whereabouts. What if their last encounter had just been a fever dream?

The blond finally stopped trying to shove the cup at her and stood back, letting out a soft sigh. “I am Shaydn, the Dracian royal healer. The prince has never mentioned me, though, I can see that now. I am very sorry to upset you.” Her gaze was steady, her expression open and sincere as she studied Kallessa.

She’d said ‘the prince’.

“Nevander?” Kallessa asked weakly.

“Yes,” the healer replied simply.

“Where is he?”

“The prince is taking care of some business, but will be back shortly. He left you in my hands,” Shaydn explained calmly .

“What is going on?” Kallessa demanded, yanking back the blankets. She frowned as the chill air hit her body, clad only in a thin linen shift.

Shaydn looked alarmed as Kallessa moved to get up. “Where are you going?”

“To get some answers. Now either help me up, or get out of my way.” The words left Kallessa feeling lightheaded and breathless, but the determined look in her eyes must have convinced the healer. Shaydn quickly retrieved a heavy woolen robe and fur-lined slippers, helping Kallessa into them.

Kallessa stumbled into the hallway, calling for Dovina. Her cousin came running, cheeks flushed and eyes alight with an odd excitement that seemed out of place, given the circumstances.

“Oh cousin, you’re up!” Dovina exclaimed, hugging her tightly before guiding her downstairs. “You know I was so worried about you, wasn’t I, Shaydn? I’ve been asking about your health hourly. And that whole mess with father, ugh. But you forgive me, don’t you?” Her words tumbled out in a breathless rush, the pitch of her voice rising higher and higher until what she was saying made less and less sense.

Kallessa frowned, perplexed by Dovina’s giddiness. At the parlor entrance, Dovina blocked her path, eyes glinting. “Wait,” she whispered. “There’s someone here to meet you. He and I have gotten along famously. I hope you don’t mind me entertaining, with you being indisposed and all.”

Kallessa shook her head, exasperated. “Dovina, just move.”

Dovina stepped aside with a dramatic flourish. They entered the parlor to find a handsome young man lounging on the sofa. He held a crystal glass of amber liquid and eyed Penny as she set down an enormous platter of finger foods. He’d propped his stocking feet up on the silk cushions, as if he owned the place.

Dovina fluttered her eyelashes, executing a perfect curtsy. The stranger grinned wolfishly, eyes roving over her slim figure before noticing Kallessa.

He sat up, raising his glass in a mocking toast. “Ah, the lady arises,” he purred, his gaze raking over her. “So sorry my brother isn’t here to meet you, my dear. Royal paperwork, you know. Dastardly stuff. He should be back shortly, though. With documents in hand, I think.”

Kallessa’s breath caught. The family resemblance was unmistakable—the same chiseled features and arrogant bearing, though his eyes were a fathomless blue instead of Nevander’s vivid green. His frame was slighter, his hair inky black, and something in the hard angles of his face made him seem older than his years.

“Ah, where are my manners?” He smirked. “I am Prince Tarrick, Nevander’s older and much more handsome brother, at your service, my lady.”

He didn’t appear to be at anyone’s service but his own as he reached for a tart from the platter, shoving the entire pastry into his mouth in one enormous bite. Crumbs spilled down his shirt, and he chased the tart with a swig of amber liquid from a glass, draining it carelessly. He didn’t wear a wedding ring on his slim fingers. Kallessa’s gaze darted to Dovina, who stood nearby, head tilted demurely as she gazed at Tarrick with stars in her eyes.

“May I sit?” Kallessa asked, gesturing toward the sitting area.

“As the lady wishes,” Tarrick replied with a flourish.

Kallessa carefully seated herself on the right side of a worn, burgundy sofa, avoiding the spring she knew would poke her if she sat too close to the left. A wave of nostalgia washed over her, memories of happier times in this very room threatening to overwhelm her. Although many furnishings were new, the room still held the spirit of her past. But as much as she wanted to soak it all in, she forced herself to focus on the present.

“Why are we in my uncle’s parlor?” she asked, her voice steadier than she felt. “The last thing I remember was him locking me in jail for Dovina’s disappearance.” She turned a stern gaze towards her cousin. “Which you still need to explain, by the way.”

“Of course, cousin, of course. I will be happy too,” Dovina gushed. Her usual look of disdain toward Kallessa had disappeared, replaced by a sycophantic light that was disturbing.

Kallessa held up her hand, cutting her off. “But first, why are we here? Where is Uncle Talos?”

“Perhaps I can explain,” a familiar voice interjected from the doorway.

Nevander stood framed in the entryway, his appearance haggard yet triumphant, as if he had just emerged victorious from a hard-fought battle. A weary smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, hinting at the answers he carried.

Kallessa’s breath caught in her throat. If only everyone else would disappear. She wanted nothing more than to cling to him, to make sure he was real. But she couldn’t.

So, by all that was holy, he better have some explanations for this perplexing turn of events.