A glint appears in his eyes. “I can’t make your nerves go away, but maybe I can ease them. Besides, I still owe you a dance lesson.”

Our fingers find each other’s, and within moments we’re moving around the room, three steps at a time, swaying to the sound of our beating hearts. I concentrate on our steps and try not to react when I feel his breath tickle my cheek.

But the blush comes anyway, and my feet trip over themselves in response.

“Sorry,” I say, flustered. “You’d think I’d be better at dancing, considering all the period dramas I’ve seen in my lifetime.”

“You can use that,” he replies, hand pressed against my lower back. “You’re in control of your consciousness; whatever you’ve seen, you can mimic.”

I find his eyes. “Is that why you’re so good at fighting? Because you watched a bunch of action movies as a kid?”

Gil smiles softly. “No. It’s because I wasn’t too stubborn to turn up to training just because I hated my teacher.”

I debate stepping on his toes on purpose. “You were making it impossible.”

“So were you.”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t that great of a teacher anyway.” When he frowns, I add, “I seem to recall I didn’t figure out how to supercharge a punch until after I fired you.”

Gil’s laughter tickles my ear, and we dance until I forget all about the steps and the mission and my nerves. There’s hardly any space between us at all, and I’m drawn to his mouth and the memory of our almost kiss. He stopped it then, but would he stop it now?

I’m afraid to find out. Afraid of altering what I’m feeling right this very second.

All I see are his dark hazel eyes, watching me like he can see my very core, with all its colors and rough edges and scars. Like he knows me better than I know myself.

And in this moment, I’m not a spy or a person without a family.

I’m one half of a star, bursting across the sky with the only boy that makes my heart feel like it’s on fire.

44

PRINCE CAELAN STANDS IN FRONT of the stables, dressed in a simple white tunic. The buttons at his neck are undone, and he doesn’t wear his crown and finery today. He appears more casual than I’ve ever seen him, his face tilted up like he’s drinking in the sunlight.

He looks peaceful. My mind reels from guilt.

His white hair tumbles in the slight breeze, and when he hears me approaching, he flashes a smile.

I drop into a curtsy once I’m in front of him, my pale blue dress covered in tiny, threaded gold flowers. “Your servants said I’d find you here.”