The Starlight Heir

by Amalie Howard

Fictional men never disappoint. “Book boyfriends are simply better,” I say.

The romantic tales I love paint pictures of days when soul-fated pairs were more common, chosen and blessed by the magic of the gods.

“If I were to judge everyone on every misstep they made, I’d miss out on knowing some wonderful people.”

“May the gods deliver the worthy.” Women around me are clapping and whispering, but I only feel alarm spreading like an oil slick. Had she said gods or odds?

“I know what it’s called, you ass. Don’t prince-splain me.”

Fear is healthy; panic is deadly.

“I live to rescue damsels in distress, you know.” I laugh despite myself, despite the mild panic I feel when he guides me expertly to the edge of the ballroom floor, his palm warm against mine. I may not be a damsel, but my distress is gratingly real.

But they say stress can cause graying—in which case, I’m surprised my whole head isn’t leached of color.

I glare at him. “It’s incredibly vexing when you answer a question with a question.”

I glower at the pile of books on the table in front of me—all the size of bricks and weighing just as much, nary a spicy romance in sight, to my chagrin.

“Much of history was both recorded and erased by those in power, so it’s especially important to bolster your thinking with a wide variety of books . . .

“I hate lies.” Roshan doesn’t move for a moment, a muscle tensing in his jaw, but then his stare shutters slightly as he moves back into fighting position. “Sometimes lies are a necessary evil.”

“Must you joke about everything?” “Life is easier with a sense of humor, don’t you think?”

There are things about me you don’t know.” “We all have secrets,” I say. “But let’s leave those outside. In here, we’re just Ro and Sura. Can we do that?” “What if those secrets are deadly ones?”

“It hurts so much.” “The most precious things in the world come at a cost.” “Let me guess, like love?” “Yes,” she agrees.

“I see two incomplete souls finding their missing halves. I see a magical fated soul bond blessed by the gods.” Mine. The gravelly whisper comes from everywhere inside of me. A possessive throb fires deep in my chest, making me gasp, but I can’t make head or tail of it.

Sometimes all you need is a hug from someone older and wiser than you.

“Everyone makes mistakes, love. The point is how you fix them.” “But if there’s no trust, where does that leave us?” “Then you rebuild that trust brick by brick. Nobody ever said love was easy.”

sometimes love is a choice you make, and one you keep making every day.”