The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court, #1)(74)

Cedric pointed at the moon. “Uros didn’t just ban Alanziel and Deanziel from the divine realms for succumbing to their passions. They were banned from each other too. She is the sun, and he is the moon. And they’re never together. Sometimes, at the right time of day, they can catch a glimpse of each other across the sky. Nothing more.”

I exhaled. “What about during an eclipse?”

He took so long to answer that I thought he hadn’t heard me. Then: “Those don’t really happen every day.”

“Seems like it’d only need to happen once.”

He turned from the moon, and although his face was shadowed, I was pretty sure I could see him smiling. The tension between us faded—for now, at least. “Are we still talking about Alanziel and Deanziel?” he asked.

“How should I know? You’re the heretic, not me.”

“Right. You’re just the daring escape artist who saves heretics like me. Now, tell me how you plan on getting back into the house.” When I showed him the trellis I’d be climbing up, he was astonished. “That?”

I straightened up proudly. “Sure, why not? I told you a long time ago I can do stuff like this. And Mira does it all the time.”

He winced. “I don’t even want to know. And I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re fearless. She’s fearless. There’s no going against either of you.”

With a jolt, I remembered the old rumors. He’d acted very self-assured back there under the stars, with hands and lips that knew exactly what they were doing. It seemed na?ve to think that, between his goings-on at the university and with the Alanzans, he wouldn’t have some experience with women. But the idea that I might have been preceded by my best friend was particularly troubling.

I nearly asked him then and there. Instead, we bid each other an awkward good night, pointedly keeping distance between us. He watched me scale the trellis until I was safely in the attic before going on his own way. I reclaimed the robe and made it back to my room without detection.

Mira sat up in bed when I entered. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who had trouble sleeping when friends were out doing foolish things.

“Did you get what you needed?” was all she asked.

It was a difficult question to answer, one that could have a lot of different meanings tonight.

“I don’t know that I ever will,” I replied.





Chapter 17


Cedric held to his word about keeping me away from Warren. He didn’t appear on the schedule for the next few days. I encountered him once on an outing into town with the other girls, but it was too brief and too public for him to go off on one of his impassioned pleas. He made no secret of how excited he was to see me, and I responded as politely as I could, even as he bragged about how they’d arrested three Alanzans the night of the Star Advent—something that caused me pain because I knew it caused Cedric pain. On the bright side, there was no sign of his mother or any indication she was acting upon her threat.

I should have been pleased with this development. I should have used this time to think about my next move and how best to navigate these uncertain waters Viola Doyle had cast me into.

But mostly, I just thought about Cedric.

If I was being honest with myself, Cedric had been on my mind since the moment we met. I’d just worked to keep my feelings pushed off to the side of my mind. But now that I’d unlocked my heart and admitted to those feelings . . . well, now there was no keeping him out of my head. I found myself constantly replaying every moment from that night under the stars. The exact moment our lips had met. The way his fingers had loosened my hair. The boldness of his hand moving up to the side of my thigh—but never any farther.

Sometimes, at the right time of day, they can catch a glimpse of each other across the sky. Nothing more.

I couldn’t sleep. I could hardly eat. I moved around in a glorious haze, high on the thrill of what had happened between us, even though that high was dampened by the knowledge it wouldn’t—that it couldn’t—happen again.

At least he never told me it was a mistake. I always remembered that cautionary tale Tamsin had told us, about the girl she knew in Osfro who’d given up a lot more than kisses to a man who’d promised her everything, only to later tell her it had been a “misunderstanding.”

But Cedric never spoke of regrets or any other humiliating excuses. In some ways, that made it worse. It meant that he didn’t think it was a mistake. And I didn’t either. Neither of us could deny, however, that it complicated things.

So, really, we found it best to speak as little as possible to each other—not because of any animosity but because we simply didn’t trust ourselves. One day, however, communication was unavoidable. Several of us were about to go to a party, and he pulled me aside while the others were distracted. We stood several inches apart, and I counted every single one of them.

“I’ve found someone for you,” he told me, casting a quick look back at the doorway. “A good man—I could tell when I spoke to him. And then I verified it with some sources who know his servants. You can always tell a lot about someone by their servants.” Cedric hesitated. “And he’s very . . . candid. Amusing. I thought . . . well, I thought you’d like that too.”

Awkwardness joined the electric attraction between us. It was more than a little weird to have the man I so desperately wanted finding a suitable husband for me.