Kell tensed visibly.
So did Lila.
She watched as he said something to the princess and drew his arm free. The girl looked put out, but he didn’t give her a second glance—didn’t take his gaze from Lila—as he descended the stairs and came toward her, eyes dark, fists clenched at his side.
He opened his mouth, and Lila braced herself for an attack. But instead of yelling, Kell exhaled, held out his hand, and said, “Dance with me.”
It wasn’t a question. It was barely a request.
“I don’t know how to dance,” she said.
“I do,” he said simply, as if the act didn’t require two. But he was standing there, waiting, and eyes were beginning to turn their way, so she took his hand, and let him lead her out onto the shadowed edge of the ballroom floor. When the music kicked up, Kell’s fingers tightened around hers, his other hand found her waist, and they began to move; well, Kell began to move, and Lila moved with him, forcing herself to follow his lead, to trust in it.
She hadn’t been this close to him in months. Her skin hummed where he touched her. Was that normal? If magic coursed through everyone and everything, was this what it felt like when it found itself again?
They danced in silence for several long moments, spinning together and apart, a slower version of their cadence in the ring. And then, out of nowhere, Lila asked, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you ask me to dance?”
He almost smiled. A ghost. A trick of the light. “So you couldn’t run away again before I said hello.”
“Hello,” said Lila.
“Hello,” said Kell. “Where have you been?”
Lila smirked. “Why, did you miss me?”
Kell opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again before finally managing to answer, “Yes.”
The word was low, and the sincerity caught her off guard. A blow beneath her ribs. “What,” she fumbled, “the life of a royal no longer to your tastes?” But the truth was, she’d missed him, too. Missed his stubbornness and his moods and his constant frown. Missed his eyes, one crisp blue, the other glossy black.
“You look …” he started, then trailed off.
“Ridiculous?”
“Incredible.”
Lila frowned. “You don’t,” she said, seeing the shadows under his eyes, the sadness in them. “What’s wrong, Kell?”
He tensed slightly, but he didn’t let go. He took a breath, as if formulating a lie, but when he exhaled, the truth came out. “Ever since that night, I haven’t felt … I thought competing would help, but it only made it worse. I feel like I’m suffocating. I know you think it’s madness, that I have everything I need, but I watched a king wither and die inside a castle.” He looked down, as if he could see the problem through his shirt. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
“Life,” she said, as they spun around the floor. “And death.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everyone thinks I have a death wish, you know? But I don’t want to die—dying is easy. No, I want to live, but getting close to death is the only way to feel alive. And once you do, it makes you realize that everything you were doing before wasn’t actually living. It was just making do. Call me crazy, but I think we do the best living when the stakes are high.”
“You’re crazy,” said Kell.
She laughed softly. “Who knows? Maybe the world’s gone crooked. Maybe you’re still possessed. Or maybe you just got a taste of what it really means to be alive. Take it from someone who’s had her fair share of close calls. You almost died, Kell. So now you know what it feels like to live. To fear for that life. To fight for it. And once you know, well, there’s no going back.”
His voice was unsteady. “What do I do?”
“I’m the wrong person to ask,” she said. “I just run away.”
“Running sounds good.”
“Then run,” she said. He stifled a laugh, but she was serious. “The thing about freedom, Kell? It doesn’t come naturally. Almost no one has it handed to them. I’m free because I fought for it. You’re supposed to be the most powerful magician in all the worlds. If you don’t want to be here, then go.”
The music picked up, and they came together, drew apart.
“I made Rhy a promise,” said Kell as they turned, carried along by the dance. “That I would stand at his side when he was king.”
She shrugged. “Last time I checked, he’s not on the throne yet. Look, I stay here because I have nothing to go back to. There’s no reason that once you leave, you can’t return. Maybe you simply need to stretch your legs. Live a little. See the world. Then you can come back and settle down, and you and Rhy can live happily ever after.”
He snorted.
“But, Kell …” she said, sobering, “… don’t do what I did.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific.”
She thought of Barron, the silver watch in the bottom of her coat. “If you decide to leave—when you decide to leave—don’t do it without saying good-bye.”
The music struck its final notes, and Kell spun Lila into his arms. Their bodies tangled, and both held their breath. The last time they’d embraced, they were bruised and bloody and about to be arrested. That had felt real; this felt like a fantasy.
Over Kell’s shoulder, Lila saw the Princess of Vesk at the edge of the room, surrounded by gentlemen, and staring daggers at her. Lila flashed a smile and let Kell lead her off the floor, between a pair of columns.
“So, Kamerov?” she said as they found a quiet place to talk.
His grip tightened on her. “No one knows. They can’t.”
She shot him a withering look. “Do I really strike you as the telling type?” she asked. Kell said nothing, only examined her with that strange two-toned gaze, as if he expected her to disappear. “So …” she said, plucking a glass of sparkling wine from a passing tray, “did you kill the real Kamerov?”
“What? Of course not. He’s a fiction.” His brow furrowed. “Did you kill the real Elsor?”
Lila shook her head. “He’s on a boat headed for Denolar. Or was it Delo—”
“Delonar?” snapped Kell, shaking his head. “Saints, what were you thinking?”
“I don’t know,” she said, honestly. “I don’t understand what I am, how I’m alive, what I can do. I guess I just wanted to see.”
“You didn’t have to enter the most visible tournament in the three empires to test your fledgling abilities.”
“But it’s been fun.”
“Lila,” he said softly, and for once, his voice didn’t sound angry. Tense, yes, but not mad. Had he ever said her name like that? It sounded almost like longing.
“Yes?” she asked, her breath tight.
“You have to withdraw.”
And just like that, the warmth between them shattered, replaced by the Kell she remembered, stubborn and righteous.
“No, I don’t,” she said.
“You can’t possibly continue.”
“I’ve made it this far. I’m not dropping out.”
“Lila—”
“What are you going to do, Kell? Have me arrested?”
“I should.”
“But I’m not Stasion Elsor,” she said, gesturing down to the ball gown. “I’m Delilah Bard.” Truth really was the best disguise. His frown deepened. “Come on, don’t be a sore loser.”
“I threw the match,” he snapped. “And even if I hadn’t, you can’t move on.”
“I can, and I will.”
“It’s too dangerous. If you defeat Rul, you’ll be in the final three. You’ll be unmasked. This ruse of yours might work from a distance, but do you honestly think no one will notice who you are—and who you’re not—if you show your face? Besides, I saw you in the ring today—”