“You haven’t been to court since the Bloodmoon.” He dips his head gently. “If it weren’t impossible, I might’ve convinced myself I’d only dreamed you up.”

I straighten, keeping the soft smile I wear as a mask pinned in place. “I assure you, I am very real.”

A dimple appears in his cheek. “Your absence has been deeply felt. I must admit, I’ve become quite attached to our conversations.”

“I’m here now,” I offer, hoping to avoid lying about where I’ve been.

“There’s so much I’ve wanted to talk to you about.” He hesitates. “About everything that’s happened in Victory since I last saw you.”

Could it have anything to do with the hundreds of humans you shipped off to Death? I think sourly.

Did he even consider coexistence after the last time we spoke? I was so sure he’d heard me. So convinced he was tempted by the idea of peace.

But then he brought an airship to his own borders and forced me to make a choice.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the news of Vallis,” he says, pressing his lips together.

I lift my brows, straining to hide my sudden panic.

“He’s been missing since the Bloodmoon. And there are rumors he hasn’t been as loyal as I once thought.”

“You think he’s a traitor?” My voice hitches.

“I didn’t want to believe it. But there were whispers he’d been sowing doubt through my court for some time, suggesting to my subjects that I may not be fit to rule. And they’ve only grown louder since his disappearance.” A hint of sorrow flashes behind his eyes. “It seems a true friend is hard to come by, even for a prince.”

The admission scrapes at my chest, prying at my rib cage. I fight it. “Your court is loyal. Perhaps Vallis left because he knew he couldn’t change their minds.”

“You think too highly of me,” he says, but his voice is laced with gratitude.

I try to make mine like a song. “That’s because I believe in you. You’re more fit to rule Victory than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Prince Caelan’s face brightens, and for a moment I think he might hug me. Instead, he motions toward the stables. “I was about to go for a ride. Would you like to join me?”

“I’ve love to,” I say, following him inside.

The stables are long and wide, with tall white archways and stalls made of marble. Inside are the same creatures I saw pulling his carriage that day in the market—Daylings, made of memories, their coats swirling like clouds and starlight.