Cassandra burst through my bedroom door, eyes wild, fists clenched. A second later, I heard the echo of her slippers pounding against the marble floors as she stormed down the hall toward the grand stairwell.

“Cass—wait!” I stumbled after her, yanking my silk nightgown off the floor so I wouldn’t trip on it. My bare feet slapped against the cold stone as I jogged toward the stairs, heart pounding harder with every step. But she was already halfway down.

Shit. This is bad.

The torches lining the walls flickered as I ran, shadows dancing around me like whispers of all the things I should’ve said. My chest ached—tight, burning. I didn’t even know why she was mad at me. One minute we were curled up on the window seat, laughing about the ridiculous name of some new café—The Gilded Bean or something like that—and the next, she was on her feet, face flushed with anger, practically shaking.

What did I say? What did I—

“I’m not a secret, Aelia!” she’d shouted. That was the last thing she said before the door slammed.

Not a secret? When was she a secret? I don’t understand who I could possibly hide her fr–oh. Oh. That’s why she’s angry.

Now I was breathless, running—no, sprinting after her through the golden hallway like a girl in one of my sister’s storybooks. “Cassandra!” I shouted again, halfway down the stairs now. “Please, just—can we talk about whatever this is?!”

She stopped. At the base of the staircase, she froze, her back to me. Her shoulders rose and fell with every heavy breath. I slowed, each step hesitant. Gods, she looked like a storm—hair wild, cloak slipping off one shoulder, magic crackling faintly around her fingertips like heat off embers.

“You didn’t even deny it,” she said, her voice trembling. “You just sat there. Like you agreed with your mother—like you agreed I should hide. Like I’m something shameful.”

My stomach dropped.

“I—I didn’t mean it like that,” I said quietly, stepping down the last few stairs. “I just… I didn’t want her to take it the wrong way. I was trying to protect us.”

Cassandra turned, her green eyes glassy with hurt. “Protect us by pretending we’re nothing? You introduced me as your friend, Aelia. Friend.”

“I panicked,” I whispered. “She was already going on about marriage alliances and heirs and—”

“I don’t care what she wants,” Cassandra cut in, fire in her voice. “I care what you want. And if you don’t want this—us—just say it.”