I’d never believed it possible that she’d feel that way about me, but she was no more capable of lying than I was. And that kiss… If there was a chance, any chance at all, I had to take it.

The two servants cleaning in the corridor dropped into low bows as I passed, but other than inclining my head, I did not engage them as I might otherwise have done. Knocking on the door to my father’s study, I hesitated only a moment before entering. “Father?”

He did not pause in his writing, and my chest tightened at the whiteness of his hair that only a short year ago had been as black as my own. Setting down his pen, he dusted sand over the paper and then looked up. “I thought you were with His Highness?”

“I was. But he had a meeting with the Builders’ Guild scheduled to discuss the tree.”

“He’s too young to be responsible for the lives of an entire city,” my father grumbled, setting aside his papers. “Thibault erred in that decision, which any of his advisors would have said if he’d bothered to consult us. Never has seen reason when it comes to that boy. The tree’s magic holds half a mountain-worth of rock off Trollus. It is not something to be given as a birthday gift.”

“Tristan was pleased to take it on, and his mind is suited to the task,” I said, hoping to end this line of conversation. I wasn’t here to talk about my cousin or his feats of magical engineering.

“A boy should have a chance to live before being saddled with such a burden. I wish you could have longer.”

My stomach clenched with unease. “You need to work less. Rest more. If the King knew…”

“The King does know, Marc.” He met my gaze. “Being considered indispensable by a ruler has its privileges, but also its costs. He will use me until I am dead, and then my responsibilities will fall to you.”

I sighed. Besides the honored duty of holding the key to the labyrinth, the maze of tunnels running through the rock surrounding Trollus, my father was also responsible for the vast task of keeping the city fed. I’d no doubt that it was the stress of his duties to the King and Trollus that was driving my father to an early grave.

“I know,” I said. “But that isn’t what I’m here to talk about.”

My father leaned back in his chair, and though his skin was dull, his eyes were still shrewd. “If this is to be a serious discussion, pull that cursed hood off. I want to converse with my son, not with shadows.”

Reluctantly, I pulled it back. “What would you say if I told you I wished to be bonded?”

His grey eyebrows rose. “You’re a bit young for it.”

“I’m seventeen.”

“I’m aware of your age.” He watched me silently for a long moment. “You’ve someone in mind?”