Page 124 of Godbound
For today, it feels as though magic has been threaded into every seam of the palace.
Two royal guards wait outside my chambers, and though I expected them, a small pinch of disappointment prickles under my skin at the realization that Ryker didn’t come for me himself.
The feeling is faint though, barely worth naming, like stepping into a day of blistering sun with an umbrella already in hand. I anticipated this. I came prepared. The discomfort doesn’t reach me.
This is no longer a courtship, I remind myself. At least, not for me. This is a rescue mission, plain and simple.
Ryker is no longer the man I once imagined a life beside, but he is still someone I care for—naive, stubborn, and entirely unaware of the danger closing in around him.
Eva and I walk the palace corridors arm in arm, our elbows linked. We even manage a few quiet giggles at the scandalized looks cast our way by nobles heading in the same direction, until a smooth voice I’vecome to despise unfurls behind us.
“Well, isn’t this a sight,” Mael drawls, his tone light and amused, as though all that passed between us was nothing more than a careless jest. “A failed queen embracing her fate. And dressing accordingly.”
A bitter taste rises in my throat as I realize that the nickname Seraphina gave me is starting to catch on.
We both stop, turning to face him in perfect unison.
Mael’s dressed like a prince out of a storybook. His ensemble is glossy, burnished brown. His eyepatch is ornate, fashioned from the same fabric, shaped into a dragon’s wing. His dark hair, tousled in a way that pretends not to care, has clearly been arranged with obsessive precision.
Eva exhales sharply. “Bless the gods for the half-sight you still have, Mael.” She flashes a radiant toothy smile.
I half expect his smirk to falter, for him to retaliate with some cold insult or condescending bite. But instead, he laughs—genuinely, infuriatingly—and before I can stop him, he strides forward and takes my free arm, linking it through his as though nothing at all is wrong between us.
I recoil instinctively, a jolt of magic flaring beneath my skin, almost slipping free. The few seconds it takes me to steady my grip on it are all he needs to begin walking, pulling both Eva and me along beside him.
By the time I collect myself, we are already in motion. I try to pull away, but his other hand clasps over mine, his fingers pressing deliberately over my blackened ones.
“Come now,” he murmurs, voice low enough to make it sound intimate. “What better time for old wounds to be forgotten than beneath the blood-drenched sky of the Bleeding Moon?”
I grind my teeth and glance at the guards just behind us, then at the nobles all around watching, absorbing our every move, eager to twist the slightest oddity into a scandalous piece of gossip.
They don’t know it was Mael who caused my Crimson Tether, so to them, the sight of us walking together is nothing unusual. After all, we’ve done it many times before.
So I concede, if only to avoid making a scene now that thingsbetween Ryker and me finally seem to have smoothed out.
“How generous of you to offer peace, Mael,” I say. “While holding the very hand you once tried to sever.”
“Oh. Ray,” Eva murmurs, leaning in with a pointed glare in Mael’s direction, “have you not learned this about our prince? He’s always believed wounds are more beautiful while they’re still bleeding.”
Mael squeezes my hand more tightly, his shoulder lifting in a gesture of theatrical delight.
“This is what I’ll miss most when you eventually lose,” he says cheerfully. “These charming little exchanges.” He exhales, then shakes his head as if overcome by wistful nostalgia. “Life at court is so dull. But you two always kept it interesting. Especially once you”—he glances down at me, gaze lingering far too long on my mouth—“finally gave in to your forbidden appetites.”
His voice lowers to a whisper as he leans in. “Three red locks, Ray?” he murmurs. “Did I bring out the wicked little sinner hiding underneath?”
My mind goes still.
So completely, so utterly, that for a breathless moment I’m certain my blood has stopped flowing. And yet my legs keep moving, stiff and mechanical, as though some buried instinct is dragging me forward while the rest of me fractures beneath my skin.
He notices, of course. A slow, indulgent smile curls at his lips as he exhales.
“Forgive my big mouth,” he says, tone mockingly apologetic. “I just couldn’t help myself.” His breath brushes my ear, every word sliding into me like smoke through a cracked wall. Then he chuckles, catching the shift in me. “Ah, don’t get confused. I meant this comment, not the use of my mouth that night…”
His voice drops even lower. “You tasted incredible,” he murmurs. “That’s the part I won’t apologize for.” He inhales, savoring the memory like a fine vintage. “Tearing myself away took everything. But you know me, I’m known for my restraint. Even when stopping feels… impossible.”
The weight of what he’s just said crashes over me, and for amoment, it paralyzes me completely.
My steps falter, then stop so abruptly that both Eva and Mael release my arms. Though something in me knows Mael let go deliberately. If he hadn’t wanted to, he would have clung tighter, like a tick that would sooner tear its own head off than loosen its grip on a meal.
