House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City #2) by Sarah J. Maas

“Yeah. Honest. I’ve told you shit no one else knows.”

“I don’t see why.”

He rose from his couch and crossed to hers. He leaned against the arm of the sofa, peering down at her blazing face. “See, I think you like me, too.”

She shot to her feet, and he backed away a step. She came closer, though. Near enough for her chest to brush his. Flame and darkness twined, stars turning into embers between them. “This is not some game, where you can flirt and seduce your way through it,” she hissed. “This is war, and one that will claim many more lives before it is through.”

A growl worked its way up his throat. “Don’t patronize me. I know the cost.”

“You know nothing of cost, or of sacrifice.”

“Don’t I? I might not have been playing rebel all my life, but believe me, shit has never been easy.” Her words had found their mark, though.

“So your father doesn’t like you. You’re not the only one. So your father beat you, and burned you. So did mine.”

Ruhn snarled, getting in her face. “What the fuck is your point?”

She snarled right back. “My point is that if you are not careful, if you are not smart, you will find yourself giving up pieces of your soul before it’s too late. You will wind up dead.”

“And?”

She stilled. “How can you ask that so cavalierly?”

He shrugged. “I’m nobody,” he said. It was the truth. Everything he was, the worth by which the world defined him … it had all been given to him. By pure luck of being born into the “right” family. If he’d done anything of value, it had been through the Aux. But as a prince … he’d been running his entire life from that title. Knew it to be utterly hollow.

And Bryce had kept her power a secret so he might hold on to that scrap of specialness.

Ruhn turned away from Day, disgusted with himself.

Bryce loved him far more than she hated their father. Had given up privilege and power for him. What had he ever done for anyone on that scale? He’d die for his friends, this city—yeah. But … who the fuck was he, deep down?

Not a king. His father wasn’t a fucking king, either. Not in the way that mattered.

“Message received,” he said to Day.

“Night—”

Ruhn opened his eyes.

The living room was dark, the TV off, Ithan presumably long gone to sleep.

Ruhn turned over on the couch, tucking his arms behind his head and staring at the ceiling, watching beams of headlights drift across it from passing cars.

Who the fuck was he?

Prince of Nothing.





54

Sitting in her office at the archives, phone at her ear, Bryce drained the last sips of her third coffee of the day, and debated whether a fourth cup would have her crawling on the ceiling by lunchtime.

“So, um—Cooper’s good?” she asked her mother, setting her coffee cup atop the paper that held the sequence of numbers and letters from Sofie’s arm. Randall had now deemed it safe enough to discuss the boy on the phone. Bryce supposed it’d be weird not to, since her parents had just publicly adopted the kid.

“He’s an exceptionally bright boy,” Ember said, and Bryce could hear the smile in her voice. “He appreciates my art.”

Bryce sighed at the ceiling. “The surest test of intelligence out there.”

“Do you know he hasn’t been to school in more than three years?” Ember’s voice sharpened. “Three years.”

“That’s awful. Has he … ah … talked about his … previous home?”

Her mom caught her meaning. “No. He won’t talk about it, and I’m not going to push. Milly Garkunos said to let him bring it up on his own time.”

“Milly Garkunos suddenly became a child psychiatrist?”

“Milly Garkunos is a good neighbor, Bryce Adelaide Quinlan.”

“Yeah, and a busybody. Don’t tell her anything.” Especially about this.

“I wouldn’t,” Ember hissed.

Bryce nodded, even though her mom couldn’t see through the phone. “Let the kid quietly adjust.”

“Am I his caretaker, or are you, Bryce?”

“Put Randall on the phone. He’s the voice of reason.”

“Randall is beside himself with happiness at having another child in the house, and is currently on a walk through the woods with Cooper, showing him the lay of the land.”

Bryce smiled at that. “I loved doing that with him.”

Ember’s voice softened. “He loved doing that with you, too.”

Bryce sighed again. “Thanks again, Mom. I know this was a shock—”

“I’m glad you included us, Bryce. And gave us this gift.” Bryce’s throat ached. “Please be careful,” Ember whispered. “I know you think I’m overbearing and annoying, but it’s only because I want the best for you. I want you to be safe, and happy.”

“I know, Mom.”

“Let’s plan on a girls’ weekend this winter. Someplace nice and cold. Skiing?”

“Neither of us skis.”

“We can learn. Or sit by the fire and drink spiked hot chocolate.”

Here was the mom she adored, the one she’d worshipped as a kid. “It’s a plan.”