What she wasn’t expecting to find when she got back was an invite from the Duchess of the Moon Isles—a gathering of small islands bordering the eastern sea border of the empire.

  The Duchess, Husniya, was a young woman with warm brown skin and twinkling golden eyes. Her smiling eyes glanced mischievously from Daliya to Haitham with a knowing glint.

  Daliya blinked. It was a tea party. She was having a tea party with the duchess. The sight of the table lidden with delicacies almost gave her whiplash. She was still reeling from her meeting with the emperor, her blood still boiling from the rage she had barely smothered as she was escorted outside the palace.

  Oh, how she wanted to encase the whole place in an ice coffin. Haitham wouldn’t even have to worry about the SoulDeath Steel production or the Soul Devourer sword. They would be trapped in the safest cage ever, her ice.

  She wondered how the investigation was coming along. Did they find anything? She hadn’t felt any of the assassins’ presence in the palace’s premises. Then again, they could be hiding their cores from getting detected by any prying eyes. Then again, it wasn’t like there was anyone inside the castle with any magical abilities, let alone someone skilled enough to detect the presence of other Elementalists.

  Daliya glanced at Haitham before turning her gaze back to the Duchess. The Duchess cleared her throat to conceal a mysterious smile, a mischievous glint passing over her golden eyes.

  “Please. We are amongst friends here. Do not hold yourself on my account.” She hid her grin behind her colorful fan.

  Daliya shot her a confused look.

  “I’ve already heard from our mutual acquaintance about the true nature of your relationship.” Daliya raised an eyebrow at her words. “I have to say, I was pleased with the unexpected affair.” She gave Daliya a conspiring smile.

  Affair? Mutual acquaintance? What was the duchess talking about? And who was this mutual acquaintance that was, apparently, running a gossip ring at Daliya’s expense?

  Only one face came to mind. Daliya stopped the defeated sigh from escaping her lips. The tailor, Mina, must have unintentionally spread fake news about whatever… relationship she was gossiping about.

  Daliya shot Haitham a look. He was suspiciously still, so still that she could have balanced a house of cards over his head without worrying about it toppling over.

  “My husband stayed back in our duchy. Seeing you together has reminded me of him.” She brought a handkerchief and dabbed at the corner of her eyes. “I refused his request to accompany me. I didn’t want to offend His Majesty, you see. After all, we are his Majesty’s loyal subject.” Her words carried an undertone, something Daliya was unable to decipher. “If I had known her Highness had a forbidden romance of her own, I would have given it a second thought.”

  Oh, oh. She thought Daliya and Haitham were lovers and that Daliya used this ‘guard’ pretext to keep him by her side.

  Daliya felt her face heat up. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Haitham glance at her, eyebrow raised.

  “Seeing you side by side makes me want to brave forward and make our relationship known to the empire.” She looked up dreamily to the sky.

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  Not too fast, lady.

  Daliya felt bad for giving the poor woman false hope.

  She laughed. It sounded choked to her own ears.

  The Duchess endlessly spoke about her husband, weaving poetry about his bravery and boundless love for her. She talked about how he had insisted on accompanying her, fearing for her life, and how his love warmed her heart despite his cold hands.

  “If Your Highness is amenable to it, I would like to extend my invitation to the Moon Isles.”

  Daliya understood what the Duchess was doing. She saw a powerful, potential ally in her eyes. A member of the imperial family who most likely had a fondness for other wielders and who was slotted as the next head of the empire.

  She was clever.

  Haitham seemed unfazed by the Duchess’s words. He propped his chin up with one hand, moving his head closer to hers. His mirth was evident in his eyes. “Shouldn’t we accept the Duchess’ goodwill, beloved?”

  Daliya had to restrain herself from backing away. She smiled back, though, from the delight in Haitham’s eyes, she knew it looked more like a grimace than anything else.

  She mentally bristled. He was having fun at her expense, too much fun.

  He winked at her, his smile widening.

  Fine! If he wanted to play, then so would she.

  She leaned towards him, their nose a hairbreadth away from each other. She projected the sweetest smile she could ever muster with years under her belt working part-time jobs, smiling at the faces of difficult customers.

  “Of course, my love.” She put her hand above his and squeezed.

  For a split second, the smile froze on his face, and an unreadable emotion passed through his eyes too fast for her to fathom. Then, he turned his hand, trapping hers in his grip, and pulled her closer till their noses touched.

  Daliya’s eyes widened in shock. She had thought she could fluster him and make him regret making fun of her. She hugely underestimated him. And she was suffering for it.

  She could feel his warm breath against her chilled skin and hear the sound of his breathing. She could feel her heart trying its hardest to beat its way out of her chest. His eyes were serious. They no longer held that underlying teasing. They stared into hers, looking, searching for something.

  The duchess’s cough brought them out of whatever daze they were trapped in. They sprung apart like two naughty kids caught with their hands down the cookie jar. The duchess had a beaming smile on her face.

  “I’m honored Your Highness accepted my invitation. I’m sure my husband would be ecstatic to meet the both of you.” She leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “He was always worried I’d be sidelined for our relationship. Knowing that Your Highness shares our dilemma is quite comforting.”

  Daliya cleared her throat. She clasped the teacup to distract herself. “Of course.” Her smile wavered as a tremor ran along her hand. She put the cup down, cursing as it clattered on the tabletop, the liquid sloshing against the edge.

  The servants hurried over to clean up the mess. Daliya fake-coughed, embarrassed by her clumsy behavior. She put her hand on her thigh, uncertain where to put it and not wanting to cause another social mistake. But all her worries vanished—or spiraled out of control till she could no longer differentiate between the two—when Haitham snatched her hand and hid it between them under the table.

  Daliya half-heartedly listened to the remaining talk. All her focus was on Haitham’s hand as it held hers.

  Their horses were waiting for them. The stable boy handed her the rein, eyes wide with awe, still not over his initial shock. He stilled as she smiled at him and then bowed deeply.

  They were quiet the whole way back. Daliya marched back to her room, aware of Haitham’s light steps behind her. Once the chamber’s door was closed, she whirled around, an exasperated look on her face.

  “We’ll need to pretend to be close now.” She sighed.

  His brows furrowed slightly. He took a step toward her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

  “What do you mean by pretend? We’re clearly smitten with each other.” He winked.

  “Clearly,” Daliya said dryly.

  He paused. He leaned down and whispered, “Does this mean we have to be more intimate?”

  She smacked him lightly upside the head, scowling. “You’re enjoying this a bit too much, I would say. Is it so fun to tease me?”

  He laughed, the sound so free, unrestrained. “You have no idea.”