This is an excerpt from the novel The Light Between Them.
After the meal, the king suggested they take some air. "The gardens are at their finest this time of year," he said with a diplomatic smile. "My daughter will show you the best of them, I am sure."
Sigfrid leapt at the invitation. "I should be honoured."
He offered his arm. Alina placed her hand upon it, neither eagerly nor reluctantly, simply because it was expected. They descended onto the winding path between the rose arches, the sunlight softening the edges of the world around them.
"The sculpture work here is extraordinary," Sigfrid remarked. He paused beside an ancient column entwined with ivy. "And this? Magnificent. How old must it be?"
"Older than our oldest recorded king," Alina said.
"I should have guessed." Sigfrid smiled, clearly pleased to display interest.
Her replies remained gentle but brief, never unkind, never warm.
From the terrace above, partially obscured by the shadow of an overhanging arch, Kairon was standing. The distance between them was great enough to make him nearly invisible, yet Alina's gaze flicked toward him once, as though she sensed him there.
He had planned his vantage points hours ago. He shifted now, ever so slightly, but his face stayed smooth, empty of feeling. The weight in his chest did not so much as ripple across the surface.
Sigfrid stepped right up to the column, running his fingers across its carved surface, oblivious to how far he had drifted from Alina. "Remarkable craftsmanship," he murmured. "By all stars, I've never seen its equal."
Alina opened her mouth to reply, still standing a few steps back with her hands loosely clasped before her, far enough from the column that she had no need to move.
Somewhere behind her, a faint crack, barely audible, threaded through the air.
Kairon straightened.
The crack deepened into a low groan that rolled down the column's spine. Dust drifted from the carvings, catching the light like drifting ash. Sigfrid frowned, drawing back a step.
"What in...?"
The column shuddered, then split with a violent sound that tore through the garden like thunder. Servants screamed. Guards surged forward. Sigfrid leapt aside, far too quickly to look dignified, and his boots slipped on the gravel, sending him stumbling backwards until he fell hard onto the path. The great chunk of marble crashed down where he had stood a heartbeat earlier. A second stone followed, skidding across the tiles and sending shards flying.
"Light preserve us!" a servant cried, hurried towards them.
Chaos rolled through the courtyard in a storm of panicked voices and pounding boots. Sigfrid, pale and trembling, clung to the arm of a guard while the king shouted orders. Alina stood frozen for a moment, her breath caught in her throat.
Only then did she turn, slowly, instinctively, towards the terrace.
Kairon remained where he was. Completely motionless. His eyes met hers across the turmoil, cutting through the shouting and the dust and the frantic movement around them.
Her expression was full of questions she didn't dare speak: fear, confusion, a dawning realisation.
His face held nothing.
No triumph. No guilt. Only the faintest glimmer of something like sorrow.
If you enjoy this scene, the full story is available on Amazon (Kindle Unlimited).
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The Light Between Them
RomanceAlina has never fit the crown's expectations. Kairon has never stepped beyond the quiet discipline of his magic. They are not meant for each other-one bound to court politics, the other to a magic that demands restraint. What begins as something lig...
