When he shuts the door and turns away, I call out. “Who was it?”

“Just a message,” he says, and sets it down next to the door. It’s sealed with wax, a square of parchment with a splash of blood red on the center and a scrawl on the front that looks suspiciously as if it begins with a “C”.

“A message from who?”

He hesitates, and I get the sinking feeling that he doesn’t want to tell me. “Commander Tolian from Second House,” he admits after a long pause. “He is a rival. No doubt he is seeking information.”

“Is that my name on it?”

Nemeth disappears from below and a moment later he’s next to me. He helps me to my feet, rubbing my arm. “It’s nothing, Candra. I promise.”

Dragon shite it’s nothing. His reaction is bothering me.

He knows it, too. He leans in, searching my gaze with his. “Trust me for a bit longer? Please?”

I nod. How can I not? We’ve had each other’s backs from the beginning. I don’t like it, but I do trust Nemeth.

I trust him with my life.

The baby twitches and flutters all night long, making me toss and turn. Nemeth takes pity on my sleeplessness and makes me an herbal potion. “This is made from a mushroom here in Darkfell,” he tells me, adding a bit of honey to the small cup. “It is boiled and distilled down, a bit like your potion. One drop will make you sleep peacefully. Never take more than that.” He gives me a crooked smile. “Ironically, it doesn’t work on Fellians.”

“It doesn’t?” I sip the drink, and it has a sweet, pleasant taste.

“Just humans.” He kisses my brow. “Sleep well, my love.”

I curl up in bed with him, and despite my worries and the active baby, I do sleep…for a time. I wake up in the middle of the night, however, wide awake. The bed is empty.

Nemeth is gone.

Hugging the covers to my chest, I wait in the darkness. I tell myself he’s at the lavatory. Then I tell myself he’s taking a walk. Then I stop lying to myself and just wonder what he could possibly be doing in the middle of the night.

Sometime near dawn, I drift off again, and when I wake up, Nemeth is in bed with me, naked, as if he’s been there the entire time. He tugs me against him, rubbing my hip. “You feel good this morning.”

I push him away and sit up, disturbed. “Where did you go last night?”

He frowns, sitting up as well. “You woke up?”

“Your potion must not have worked well on me thanks to my Fellian blood and my curse. So spill it. Who’s the lover?”

Nemeth looks so aghast that I immediately know there’s no one else. “Why would I take a lover?”

“I don’t know. Why are you acting so suspicious? Where did you go last night?”

His expression grows defeated. “To see my brother. Or to try to. King Ivornath yet refuses to see me. I thought maybe if I went in the middle of the night, when all was quiet, that perhaps he’d relent.” Nemeth hangs his head. “I am failing you.”

I reach out and take his hands. “You’re not. Maybe I can somehow sneak in and see him. Try to wheedle my way in. I’m good at getting my way⁠—”

There’s a knock downstairs, just like yesterday.

Nemeth stiffens, and in the next moment, he disappears in a swirl of shadows. Damn it! I race towards the ledge, just in time to see him flinging another note away. This time, I clearly see my name on the missive. “That’s for me,” I call out. “Bring it to me.”

“It’s nothing, Candra. Leave it be.”

I stare down at my husband in shock. Several floors separate us, and the irony is not lost on me. I’ve never felt further away from him. Is this how Ravendor felt after she left the tower? Did her husband keep a hundred secrets—poorly—and make her wonder about his motives?

But Ravendor murdered her lover…and I am not her. I love Nemeth. I love him. I know him…or at least I thought I did. This secretive Nemeth feels like a stranger. “Why won’t you let me see those messages?”

Nemeth gazes up at me, his eyes glimmering. He looks as deflated as I feel. “Because I cannot.”

It’s impossible for me to hide my hurt. “Why won’t you talk to me, Nemeth? I feel as if I’m losing you.”

He’s standing right below me, a few floors away, and yet I feel as if we’ve become strangers all over again.

“Candra, no.” He disappears from below, and a moment later, his warm hand is upon my shoulder. He’s appeared behind me and holds a hand out. I take it automatically, but I can’t help but give him a wary look. The pain in his eyes deepens, and he takes both of my hands in his. “Please, please trust me, milettahn. Everything I do, I do for us. For our future. But you have to trust me a little longer.”

“I do trust you,” I tell him softly, searching his face. “I just wish I understood.”

“I will tell you everything when the time is right.” He presses a kiss to the back of one hand and then the other. “For now, I just ask you to put your faith in your mate. Believe in me.”

“Blindly?”

He flinches, and then his shoulders sag. “Aye, even if it must be blindly.”

I don’t understand this, any of it. I don’t understand why he won’t tell me what’s going on, or what’s so terrible a secret that he has to hide it from me. Is there a listening spell cast upon his home? Some sort of enchantment that forbids him from speaking certain things aloud? I wish desperately that I understood.

But I do know that I trust Nemeth. “Then blindly it is.”

A worn smile creases his face. He looks so tired, my beloved mate. So world-weary. When he pulls me into his arms, I hug him and then press kisses to his chest, my hand reaching under his kilt. I’m determined to make him forget, even if it’s for just a little while. To make the darkness lift from his eyes.

We make love, and afterward, Nemeth holds me against him so tightly it’s as if he fears he’ll lose me forever. I say nothing about it, of course.

But the next morning, when I find him gone again? I move to the teleportation circle and nudge the placeholder stone out of the way.

Chapter

Seventy-Eight

I’m not sure who I’m expecting to come through the teleportation circle, but I suspect it has something to do with the notes that have appeared on the door twice now. So I prepare myself. I comb and braid my hair, dressing it with gold chains twined throughout. I put on my finest Fellian gown and slippers, and I wait.

When a large, deep gray unfamiliar Fellian steps through and looks around, I get to my feet, rising from the bed, and hold myself like the princess I am. “You’ve been looking for me?”

“You’re the princess Candromeda?” he asks. “From Lios?”

I incline my chin, holding a shawl around my shoulders as I do, pretending to be chilled, but more so I can hide my belly. “Were you expecting other humans to be hidden away in Prince Nemeth’s apartments?”

He does the wing-flutter thing that tells me he’s embarrassed, and gives me a quick bow. “I have been sent by a friend. Do you know Riza?”

Even though I’m not entirely sure that this isn’t a trap, just hearing her name makes me burst into tears. “Is she with you? Is she safe?”

“Aye,” the Fellian says. “She’s been trying to contact you for the last two days. Have you not received her missives?”

I shake my head, a knot in my throat. I don’t want to betray Nemeth, but if Riza is the one sending me notes, how can he keep them from me? He knows how much I miss her. “Can you take me to her?”

He gives me an uncertain look. “I will have to fly you through Darkfell itself⁠—”

“You can teleport me,” I blurt. “I have Fellian blood.”

He looks utterly shocked. “You…what?”

“I have Fellian blood,” I state again. “Nemeth can teleport me.”

“How is this possible?”