I lounge in the Privetts’ drawing room, my fingers pressed against still tender lips. Eyes closed, I replay Abel’s kiss over and over again. The brush of his stubble against me, the hot press of his body, the rough plunge of hands into my hair.

  By nightfall, I’ll see him again.

  Will he kiss me again? Or act like nothing happened? I’d kissed him, after all. Perhaps that’s simply how one responds to being kissed.

  Except it hadn’t been like that at all when the Prince kissed me.

  A knock sounds on the Privetts’ front door, startling me out of my reverie. Must be the carriage. With Taron and the Foundress gone, we have no escort, so I don’t understand why we’re risking attending anything after all the wyvern activity—especially when it’s been expressly forbidden.

  Then again, when have rules ever stopped Clara?

  I rise from my chair and smooth my dress. It’s already sweltering in the long sleeves and gloves—but today is supposed to be some kind of outdoor activity. A demonstration? Clara was very ambiguous about the whole ordeal and, without Taron here, I have no one to question.

  Mr. Bens pulls open the front door as both Clara and I reach the foyer. But it’s not the Privetts’ second carriage driver standing on the porch platform.

  It’ s Lord Maurus Venon.

  My stomach knots.

  “Good day, Lord Venon,” Clara says brightly with her wicked, conspiratorial smirk that feels like a personal jab at me.

  Lilianna clatters down the staircase and freezes a few steps from the bottom. Her eyes widen. “ Lord Venon. ”

  “Girls, the Lord Venon has been so generous as to offer his escort, considering Lord Privett’s absence and given the”—she casts her gaze over me—“ wyverns ’ recent interest . ”

  Maurus ’s lips twist into a dangerous smile—he’s certainly in on this little game. Clara orchestrates everything she does.

  “Generous indeed,” I say, swallowing down my objections and forcing the surprise from my expression.

  Lilianna offers a hesitant curtsy, her gaze locking on Maurus’s in a way that makes the hairs on my nape stand on end. Skies, what were they talking about at Heir Vale’s party when I caught them alone?

  Maurus bows his head. “ I ’m always eager to oblige young, beautiful women in need.”

  No doubt similar to how he’d once been obliged to strangle me.

  We follow Maurus to his carriage and pile in. All the while, he watches me with that same hungry, lecherous gaze. Like I’m a prize to win, a shiny golden trophy to covet.

  “Being slightly more northern,” Maurus says, “your land has better snowmelt runoff. It’s the most fertile soil in the Kingdom. I’ve already improved the efficiency and growth rates on Venon lands by twenty percent since I took the Lordship. I think I could increase yours, considering your low staffing and outdated methods, by at least fifty percent, maybe as high as sixty or seventy.”

  Clara licks her lips. “That’s very ambitious. Though I admit, I have no green thumb myself. We’ve only followed the protocols my late husband had in place at his death.”

  Maurus nods as we clatter along out of the city. “Those guidelines were adequate at best then, but we’ve made many agricultural advancements since. I hardly think my estimates are ambitious, but rather conservative. We might achieve far greater gains after a few years, especially if we tear down the manor and restore that land to fields.”

  Sweat breaks out across my brow. My father’s manor. To lose it is one thing, but to watch it torn down…

  Clara nods along, as if tearing apart the last of her husband’s memory doesn’t bother her at all.

  “I intend to usher the Venon name into a new era,” Maurus continues, lifting his chin and straightening his coat. “One of prosperity and power. I’m eager for you to see my demonstration today. The kingdom will finally come to revere the Venon name.”

  His demonstration? They carry on about the possibilities for Father’s estate. Clara never quite agrees, but she urges his speculations along and glances at me each time, as if to say, this, this is what’s at stake if you don’t marry the prince.

  It hurts, but I’m through cowering and being the victim. I raise my chin. My father’s dream wasn’t crop fields and profits, it was freedom. Rebellion. Kheovaria without lords, without kings. Let them bring all the pompous challenges they want. Let them demand I curtsy and play their game.

  I ’ll play along—today.

  Tonight I’ll see Abel and embrace every second and… The realization strikes me like the High Guard’s sword plunging and twisting into my own heart. I want that life. A life in the shadows, chasing after Father’s dream. I want away from this place forever. Maybe Abel can give me that.

  And if he won’t, I’ll take it myself. I can take my chances with the wyverns and simply disappear in the night—who can blame my family for that?

  This plan doesn’t, however, assuage my guilt at abandoning Lilianna to Clara’s clutches alone. It doesn’t save Father’s estate or uphold his name, but perhaps it honors his dream.

  I ’m not sure where I expected Maurus’s carriage to take us, but as we leave the city gates, I do not expect us to take the High Road south towards our estate and Maurus’ s.

  Certainly we weren’t going to ours.

  Sure enough, after a painfully lengthy conversation about Maurus’s vague but wildly embellished aspirations, we rattle onto Maurus’s estate to a waiting line of carriages and nobles on horseback mulling around…

  I lean to peer out the window—what in Skies is that?

  It looks like a ship, perched upon the grassy field east of the Venon manor. Except, instead of sails, a huge spheroid container looms over it made of shimmering metal. Silver perhaps, or polished steel. At least a dozen ropes tether the lower part—the part that looks very much like an ocean ship—to the ground. Why on earth does it need to be tied down? It doesn’t seem likely something so massive and metal can simply blow away.

  “ Ah, ” Maurus says, “let it begin.”

  A footman pulls open the carriage door and Maurus bursts out and onto his waiting horse. He urges his horse aside so mine can be brought to the carriage door next.

  I sit into the sidesaddle and take the reins from the footman. “What is it?” I can’t help but ask.

  “My latest invention. You should know your contributions have been… critical to its… success. ” A vicious smile slashes Maurus’ s face.

  My contributions? I haven’t the slightest idea what that means.

  Once we’ve all poured out of the carriage and onto horseback, the entire crowd has noted our arrival. They all stare, trading glances between Maurus and the thing resting in the grass. It rocks, actually, with every whim of the breeze.

  “Welcome to the Venon estate!” Maurus booms with a charisma I didn’t know he possessed. “Thank you all for coming! I’m sure you’re wondering, what is that contraption before me ? ”

  Nods and a few shouts of agreement emanate from the crowd.

  Maurus nudges his horse forward into the thick of the crowd, and I’m struck by what an entrance we’re making. If I didn’t loathe the man, I’d appreciate what this is doing for my family’s reputation. We’ve arrived late to his own event, and are now completely, and entirely, the focus. All of us. Me, Lily, Clara, and Maurus. Maurus even brought several of his own horses—black to match his own and mine—for Clara and Lily to ride. We make for a dazzling spectacle.

  More than just nobles notice, too. The Prince sits atop his white mare in the crowd, Nicoletta with her red hair blowing in the breeze at his side. He’s flanked by the High Guard and two other guards. The Prince’s gaze finds me. His face flushes red and his brows descend into a scowl.

  Him or Maurus , Taron said. Isn’t this a taste of your own medicine, Emory? As much as I hate Maurus, I meet the Prince’s gaze with an expression I hope is just shy of gloating.

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  “This,” Maurus casts a hand towards the monstrosity of metal, “ is Kheovaria ’s first airship.”

  Airship?

  The surrounding crowd echoes my confusion.

  Maurus walks his horse through the crowd to the airship, where a servant on board opens a gate in the railing surrounding the deck, allowing Maurus to step off his horse and onto the airship . Maurus turns back to the crowd and spreads his arms wide. “Who will join me on its first flight?”

  Silence spreads.

  First flight? I rip my gaze from the Prince to stare at the airship. Air. Ship. But it flies ? It really flies? Skies, what I’d give to fly.

  Sebastian steps forward, sensing my energy.

  Lilianna touches my arm and whispers, “I want to go.”

  The idea of Lilianna getting on a contraption that’s likely to kill everyone on it—huge hunks of metal cannot fly —terrifies me. But, as I cast my gaze around the crowd and my eyes fall upon Prince Emory again, I get a sudden, exhilarating idea.

  What would the Prince do if he truly believed I was agreeable to Maurus? Would Emory then forbid our union? I’d give almost anything for that—and if the price is flying?

  “I will go,” I say, loud enough to be heard over the murmurings of confusion and horror.

  All eyes turn upon me.

  I ease Sebastian forward and we follow Maurus’s path through the crowd, my head high, and Lilianna at my flank.

  Maurus greets our arrival with a gleaming smile and extends his hand.

  It takes everything in me to put my gloved hand in his and allow him to pull me from the saddle and out onto the deck of the airship. Lilianna follows behind and servants lead our horses away.

  The deck itself is wood and about the size of the Privetts’ drawing room. A captain’s wheel at the rear marks the helm and railing lines the ship’ s perimeter —broken only in places for massive crossbows to slot, facing outwards. Protection against wyverns? It’s broad daylight, so the chance of a wyvern encounter isn’ t impossible.

  “ I ’ll go too,” the Prince says and, before I’ve hardly turned around, he’s stomping onto the deck with wild eyes and flushed cheeks. The High Guard boards behind him.

  “Excellent, your highness,” Maurus says with a cocky cross of his arms. “That should do it for this flight. I promise the rest of you will get a turn in the coming weeks.”

  In the end, it’s Lily and I, Maurus, Prince Emory, the High Guard, and Nicoletta on the ship. Plus at least three servants.

  “How does it work? I’m sure many of you are wondering,” Maurus says to the crowd and shoots a glance at us on the deck. He pulls the railing gate shut and withdraws a small vial of something gold from his pocket. “I got exclusive permission from the King to use this—Goldblood. Harvested from a wyvern killed in Pachuate several months ago.” He raises the vial high enough for everyone to see the gold glint in the summer sun.

  Ice floods my veins. Goldblood. Skies. Is that really from a slain wyvern—or is it mine? Is that what Maurus meant when he said my contributions are critical to its success? Has Clara been selling my blood to him , of all people?

  “Goldblood,” Maurus goes on as servants release the ropes tethering the airship and coil them upon the deck, “when burned in precise amounts, it releases a gas that is extremely buoyant. So buoyant it can lift an airship.” Maurus thrusts a hand towards the massive oblong spheroid metal shape over our heads.

  The gas of burned Goldblood fills that chamber?

  The last rope releases, and the airship lifts with a jolt. I have to grasp onto the railing to keep myself upright. Everyone else aboard does the same. Except the High Guard, the bastard.

  We are floating. At least four feet off the ground. Holy Skies.

  “Take us up!” Maurus roars.

  A servant at the helm turns a dial and a flame, just in front of the captain’s wheel, flares to life. Suspended above fire and connected to the spheroid metal overhead by a tube, hangs a tiny glass orb filled with liquid gold.

  Just like that, we rise into the sky.

  Lilianna clutches my hand and I squeeze back. My stomach turns over as we rise and the crowd beneath us sinks. The view of the trees distorts, no longer looking at them, but rising above, their tops spreading out before me like ground clover.

  Is this what wyverns see? The horizon stretches before us in every direction—only the palace’s black mountain spire is as high as us. Propellers at the back of the airship begin to spin and we ease forward, cutting through the air like it’s nothing, like what we’re doing isn’ t impossible.

  I place Lilianna’s hand on the railing and inch towards the front bow. My hair whips around my shoulders, but I want to see. I want to be the air. I reach the front tip of the bow and look out before me. At the open air. The trees below. The horizon stretching beyond to where the green of trees meets blue sky. I could live here. I never want to leave.

  “You should have Taron take you as a ward to his estate. The sooner the better,” a low voice says behind me, barely audible over the whipping wind.

  I spin around, my back pinned to the railing. “Excuse me?”

  The High Guard stands a mere foot or two away. His gaze casts out on the horizon, but I know his words are for me. “These people will not give you what you want.”

  My hackles raise. “How would you know what I want?” He is a Venon, after all.

  His lips press together, blanching the healthy skin around the corded scars. “This is a kingdom of monsters and war is coming. It is not for anyone decent.”

  I recoil. Monsters. War. Anyone decent. Almost as if he sees this kingdom like I do.

  His gaze swivels upon mine. Those steely eyes are dark and completely devoid of emotion. “Go, while he is still displeased. Run, while you still can.”

  The ice of his words lance me with fear. The Prince? He must mean the Prince. How can this man—the High Guard —say such a thing? He’s supposed to be the sword of the royal family, advisor to the King, their loyal protector. Yet here he is, warning me away. It sends a wave of goosebumps down my arms, despite the sweltering heat.

  But I can’t run. Farnell must be freed, first.

  Maybe this is a test. Maybe he expects me to confess my treason. I raise my chin. “ I ’m right where I belong, upholding my father’s honor. Why do you care?”

  His face remains impassive, inhumanly expressionless, like he’s a scarred man of stone. Only his chest rises with a breath and his nostrils twitch ever so slightly. “Consider it a favor from an old friend.”

  An old friend? The uncanny feeling I’ve forgotten something consumes me. I’ve missed something.

  I open my mouth to ask what the hell that means, when a shout cuts in, “ Wyvern! Port side! ”

  I spot it immediately. A massive green wyvern, almost blindingly iridescent in the golden glow of the sun.

  And why wouldn’ t a wyvern come? We ’ve entered their domain, after all.

  I search the deck for Lilianna and spy her at the stern, where Maurus has an arm draped around her waist and she’s staring up at him with—Skies, that’s not affection, is it?

  I start towards her. The ship tilts into an evasive turn. I stumble and catch myself on the rail. A strong hand grips the back of my dress and hoists me upright.

  “The other way! Don’t turn away!” The High Guard roars from behind me. “Position the crossbows!”

  Maurus tears away from Lilianna and shoves the servant from the helm. He spins the wheel in the opposite direction.

  The vessel lurches and my side slams against the rail.

  The wyvern barrels towards us and I’m sure it’s about to crash right into us, until banks upwards just in time. But we are blasted with a rush of air and that, combined with our turn, sends me nearly over the rail, if not for the High Guard’s grip on my dress.

  Lilianna screams.

  I yank myself upright. Oh, Skies. She’s gone.

  No. Not gone.

  She’s toppled over the rail and fallen upon one of the cylindrical supports for the propellers. The spinning blades whir a mere arm’s length from her and her skirt billows precariously too close.

  I scream and tear myself free of the High Guard’s grip. I run across the deck, staggering with its tilt and unsteady rocking. I reach the railing where she’ s fallen over. There ’s a coil of rope at the rail there and I wrap an end of it around my waist, knot it, and swing my leg over.

  “ Aubrey! ” The High Guard roars, catching my arm.

  “ Stop her! ” The Prince shouts, though he’s gripped onto the railing.

  Maurus ’s gaze is fixed on the wyvern. “Ready the crossbows!”

  I struggle in the High Guard’ s grip. Distract, then act . I spit in his face.

  He recoils just enough for me to twist free of his grasp and drop myself over the railing and onto the cylindrical support for the propellers. I fling my arms around Lilianna’s waist, just as the thunk, thunk, thunk of firing crossbows rings out.

  The wyvern roars and I’m just twisting around to reach for the rail when huge claws grip the underside of the airship—out of range of the crossbow, the clever beast.

  A massive wyvern head swings up to stare at Lilianna and I.

  The High Guard tears at a crossbow, trying to free it, while a few servants pick up loose spears.

  “Hold your fire, goddamn it, hold your fire, the Gold!” Prince Emory’s voice screams from somewhere behind me.

  But I cannot tear my gaze from the wyvern.

  “ Gold one. ” Words. So clearly words, yet they seem to reverberate within my skull. “ It is time you come with me . ”

  Its lips curl, revealing two long rows of white, dagger-shaped teeth, each as long as my hand. Hot breath, reeking of ash and sulfur, blasts my face. Terror clamps my throat. The memory of the heat and horrible searing pain of wyvernfire lances across my burn scars.

  “ No, ” I rasp, as much to it as to myself.

  The vertical pupils of the wyvern’s palm-sized golden eyes narrow to slits.

  The wyvernfire didn’t come.

  “ You belong with your mother’s people , ” it says in that same echoing voice emanating from the back of my head. Breathy and almost with a lisp. The beast doesn’t open its mouth, doesn’t give any sign that the words come from it. Yet the sound is so clearly foreign, so clearly other , that it must be.

  My lips part. No sound comes out. Why would this thing know of my mother? How can I hear it? How…

  “ Call to me when you’re ready, Gold One. ” That same lisping, rumbling voice in my head.

  The rope at my waist snaps taut and a spear flies over my shoulder to thunk into the shoulder articulation, where the wing meets the beast’s body. The wyvern screams and releases the airship.

  I watch it fall, as both Lilianna and I are dragged up against the railing, the rope cutting into my waist. The wyvern plummets to the forest below.

  At the very last second, its wings spread and it catches itself in an awkward lilting swoop, skidding across the tops of trees, branches snapping and cracking so loudly I can hear it from all the way up here. And then it vanishes into the forest.

  Cheers erupt all around as Lilianna and I are dragged back into the airship. At first, it’s the High Guard’s hands that wrap around my shoulders and grip me like I’m something precious and almost lost. I have only a second to glance up into those steely eyes, into the sudden intensity of his expression—no longer blank, no longer empty, but now intensely tortured, terrified, consumed with something that echoes into a lost, forgotten part of my soul. A place I so rarely go.

  Again, my gaze drops to those gloved hands gripping my arms. The hands that possess all ten fingers, yet stir within me a memory of someone that does not.

  A different arm sweeps between us and the High Guard releases me—Rahiid Venon, I remind myself, a Venon who is as far from my precious lost friend as anyone can get.

  Prince Emory pulls me against his chest. “Are you hurt?”

  I force myself to shake my head. “ I ’ m fine. ”

  Maurus has grasped Lilianna by both arms and is staring at her like she’s done something horrible, like she’s wounded him.

  “ I ’m alright,” she says and presses a hand to his chest. To push him away, I am sure. Yet they remain staring for too many beats of my heart.

  We ’re safe. It’s over. The wyvern is gone. But as the Prince’s arm around my shoulders tightens, I can’t stave off the sinking feeling that things have somehow just gotten much worse.

  I hear later, despite multiple guard units sweeping the forest, the injured wyvern is never found.