The following morning dawned wrapped in a treacherous silence. The sunlight streamed across the palace courtyards, bathing the marble stones in gold, but Isla did not warm to it. The fire burning within her was something different altogether—chilling, turbulent.
Tristan hadn't shown.
Not in the alley. Not at the riverbend. Not even a note fluttering through her window, the way he had sometimes sent her messages wrapped in fresh wildflowers.
She paced her room like a caged bird, fingers nervously twisting in the folds of her gown.
Perhaps something did occur… perhaps the guards caught sight of him… perhaps he's trying to protect me by not coming near…
Or perhaps—he had reconsidered.
No. She did not believe that. Could not.
She pressed her lips; it was warm where his last kiss had touched her, how his voice cracked as he held her. It wasn't a man who would let her go like this.
The silence grew louder hour by hour.
At midday, her father summoned her to the southern wing of the palace.
The great hall was cool and formal, lined with nobles dressed in silk and arrogance. Among them stood Lord Cedric, tall and polished, his expression unreadable as he bowed low when she entered.
"I trust you've had time to reflect on your upcoming engagement," her father said from his high-backed chair.
Isla forced a smile. "Of course, Father."
Her voice felt like glass.
Cedric advanced. "My lady, I would be delighted if you'd join me on a ride through the eastern gardens this afternoon."
She paused, then nodded curtly. "Very well."
The horses were led out by mid-afternoon, and the ride started beneath a blue, cloudless sky. Isla rode stiffly in her saddle, her mind miles away.
Cedric maintained his tone light, his words measured. "I know this marriage was arranged without your permission."
Her eyes flashed to him. "And yet here you are."
He smiled weakly. "I am a man of ambition, but I am not blind. You are not in love with me, Isla. That much is obvious."
She remained silent.
Cedric glanced out at the hedgerows in front of them. "Still… a union like ours guarantees legacy. Power. Security."
Isla pulled her horse back. "Power doesn't count when your heart isn't in it."
He guided his horse toward her. "Then where's your heart?"
The words cut through the air like a sword.
And before she could keep from saying it, she breathed, "With someone I can't have."
That evening, she couldn't remain in her chamber.
She waited until the moon had reached its full point, then moved back into the city, hope clinging to her like perfume.
She approached their alley. Nothing.
To the riverbend. Nothing.
Finally, with trembling fingers, she climbed the broken steps of the old bell tower, a place they'd once passed and joked about—Tristan had said he'd kiss her at the top one day, "when we've run so far the stars are our only witnesses."
She didn't expect him to be there.
But he was.
Sitting on the edge of the stone lip, legs dangling into the wide-open night, the wind ruffling his dark hair.
Her breath was caught. "Tristan."
He slowly turned. The shadows sharpened his face, made it look more tired.
"You came," he said quietly.
"Of course I did." She moved forward, anger and relief yanking at each other in her chest. "You vanished."
"I had to," he said, rising now. "Something's changed."
She blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I've been called to a royal expedition. Out west. A patrol along the borderlands." He paused. "They're sending me off, Isla. For weeks—perhaps more."
Her blood turned cold. "Did they discover about us?"
"I don't know. But I feel like I'm being watched."
Isla swallowed hard. "So that's it? You disappear into the borderlands and I ignore all of this?"
He bridged the space between them, cradling her face in his hands. "Don't say that. I love you."
The words struck her like a hurricane.
And then, impulsively, she kissed him. Hard. Furious. As if trying to sear herself onto him before the world ripped them apart.
His arms pinned her to him, and for a moment, there was no war, no palace, no forced marriages—only them, and the flame between them.
When they parted, gasping and holding on, she whispered, "Then take me with you."
Tristan looked at her in shock. "Isla—"
"No more secrets. No more waiting. If you leave, I leave."
His hands shook as they wrapped around her. "We won't survive out there. We'll be hunted."
She smiled, a solitary tear running down her cheek. "I'd sooner run and burn with you than remain here and decay."
Tristan buried his forehead against hers, a shattered sigh tearing from him.
"Then we leave at dawn. Before dawn."