Incendiary (Hollow Crown #1)(85)

And without hesitating, I say, “Every day.”

“I can’t change what Castian has done. I can change the strength of my feelings, but I would need you to take a memory. One that I relive each day, wishing I had listened to his turmoil then. Listened to when he wanted more than this.”

Something in me wants to trust her, or at least wants to try. I’m not a good judge of character, I suppose.

“Have you ever been in love, Renata?” Lady Nuria’s lashes cast long shadows on her cheeks with the firelight.

I don’t answer, but I feel a vein in my neck twitch. I avoid her gaze and think of Dez. I should have told him. . . .

By the curl of her smile she seems to take this as a yes.

“Then you know how terrible I feel. I have to see him at balls and festivals and every time I walk past the statue of him in the middle of my citadela. All I can think, all I can see is the way he’s changed. See the boy I love become terrifying, all while I have to pretend to love a man whose presence makes my blood curdle. Consider it a trade. I believe you’d be glad to have me owe you a favor down the line.”

I don’t want her to owe me anything and yet I know if I want to get inside the prince’s head more than I already have, if I want to get the weapon, her memory might lead me there. Perhaps one less memory of him will relinquish the hold he has on her and she will be free.

I nod, and she follows me to the long couch by the fireplace. She pulls a heavy blanket over her legs and faces me. “Does it sting?”

“Yes. Only for a moment.” I see the resolve settle over her, eyes focused on me. I flex the fingers of my free hand. The wound at the center of my palm feels stiff, and the fresh bandage doesn’t have any blood on it. I realize I will run out of excuses, and soon Méndez will fit me for the second glove.

“I’m ready,” she says.

I press my fingertips to the smooth skin of her brow, the soft glow of my magics easing her worry.



“Do you have to leave tomorrow?” she asks, lying on her side to face him.

There’s a canopy bed with sheer cream-colored silk around them. She thinks this is what it feels like to be wrapped inside a flower.

“I would stay with you if I could, but General Hector might have some words with my father,” Castian says. Nothing but a sheet draped over his hips. His golden coloring makes her feel warm inside. The time away training has been good for him. He’s always been tall, but now she can admire more than his sweet-water eyes and coiling gold hair. She can drink in the new muscles of his legs, and when he stretches, the line of dark golden hair at his abdomen.

“What are you looking at, my lady?” Castian asks.

“You,” she says, her heart swelling almost painfully because looking at him is too much.

A smirk plays upon his full lips. He kisses her, and they sink into the bed. She traces her fingers along the muscles of his back. Smooth and unblemished. “Why do you have to fight?”

He sighs, and nestles in the crook of her neck. “Because I am the Lord Commander of Puerto Leones. The king wants me to take back Riomar, and I have to do what the king says.”

He kisses her shoulder and makes his way down to her wrist. She tries to quell that feeling within her ribs, like she might grow too big for her skin because of how much she loves him. She was warned about this. She was warned by her mother and her father, the Duque and Duquesa of Tresoros, that her body would react this way when she and Castian reached this age. That she could not be weak. Queens had to be stronger to outlive their kings.

Though Queen Penelope’s sapphire weighed on her finger, Nuria was not yet queen.

“When you’re back, after we’re married, will you take me somewhere beautiful?”

He frowns again. If he isn’t careful, he’ll grow the same notch between his brows as his father. But his fingers are as soft as petals.

“Citadela Crescenti?” he asks.

“Too debauched.”

He laughs and nips at the warm brown skin of her belly at the same time. She feels him vibrate against her. “Islas del Rey?”

“You, Castian Fajardo, want to sail?” She threads her fingers in his hair.

He looks up at her and grins. “I spent my whole life trying to not fear the water. I suppose now I need to be around it if I am to be king and keep peace with our allies.”

She knows this about him and wishes she could take away his pain as easily as he’s dreamed up their future.

He props himself up and watches her. “Do you ever wonder what would happen if we sailed until we were somewhere far away?”

“How far?”

“Until we find what is in the uncharted regions.”

She coils his golden hair around her finger. “How will you be king if you’re in the uncharted regions?”

“What if I weren’t king?”

“Everyone knows your face, my dear Cas. From here to Luzou and in between.”

“There’s nothing between us and Luzou.”

“You know what I mean!”

He laughs, and the vibration makes her body sing. But then he falls too pensive, too sad. “What if I could hide?”

“Like in that secret room of yours?”

His lips tug into a smile. “In another land, maybe.”

Her eyes flick down to his mouth set in that way he has when he is serious and thoughtful. The face he reserves for the court and public, but not for her. For her he always has a smile—or worse, that smirk that drives her heart and mind to want to do dangerous things.