Chapter Three: Colors in the Sky
The next three months were stolen moments and secret joy.
They couldn't be together publicly—not yet. The scandal from the fashion show had been contained, barely, with Lyon's parents claiming he'd simply been overcome by the artistic vision and Selina playing it off as method acting for an upcoming role. But both families were watching now, suspicious and alert.
So they learned to hide in plain sight, in the vast vertical expanse of Sharn where a million souls lived stacked upon each other and privacy was just a matter of knowing which shadows to choose.
Their first real date was on a sky-bridge in the Menthis Plateau, so high up that the lower levels disappeared into mist below. Lyon had brought a picnic—expensive wine that tasted like starlight and cheese that cost more than most families earned in a week. Selina had laughed at the incongruity of it, this noble heir trying to be romantic with delicacies instead of simple bread.
"I don't know how to be normal," Lyon had confessed, looking embarrassed. "I've never...
courted anyone before. The marriage contracts my family arranges, they don't involve picnics."
"Then we'll learn together," Selina had said, and kissed the uncertainty from his lips.
They'd talked for hours that night, swapping stories from their respective double lives. Lyon told her about the first time he'd discovered his chromatic magic, how he'd accidentally turned his father's study every shade of blue when he was seven and had been punished for it. Selina told him about her training with her mother, learning to reshape her face and steal voices, all in preparation for a life of useful deception.
"Do you ever wish you could just be you?" Lyon had asked. "No glamours, no secrets, just...
Selina?"
"Every day," she'd admitted. "But I don't know who that is anymore. I've been someone else for so long."
"I see her," Lyon had said softly. "The real you. I painted her, remember?"
The portrait was still hidden in Selina's closet, a secret within a secret.
Their second rendezvous was in the Cogs, the industrial underbelly of Sharn where the city's great forges burned eternally. Lyon had wanted to show her something, and he'd led her through smoke and steam to a wall where he'd painted a mural years ago, back when Ezra was just beginning.
"This was the first one that mattered," he'd said, gesturing to the image of a dragon made entirely of gears and pistons, its eyes glowing with painted light. "Before this, I was just...
playing. But this piece, I put everything into it. All my frustration at being trapped in my family's expectations, all my dreams of being something more."
Selina had traced the dragon's scales with her fingers, feeling the faint hum of old magic. "It's beautiful.""It's angry," Lyon had corrected. "I was so angry back then. At my parents, at the world, at myself for not being brave enough to just walk away."
"And now?"
Lyon had turned to her, pulling her close despite the heat from the forges. "Now I have something worth being brave for."
They'd made love there against the wall, surrounded by fire and industry, Lyon's magic painting colors across her skin in the darkness that tasted like smoke and copper and determined hope.
Their third meeting was in the highest reaches of Skyway, in a tower so expensive that Selina's actress salary couldn't have afforded a single night. But Lyon had access to places like this, empty penthouses owned by his family that sat vacant most of the year.
He'd brought his paints.
"I want to finish it," he'd said. "The portrait. I want to paint you again, but this time... this time knowing who you are. All of you."
Selina had posed for him as rain hammered against the floor-to-ceiling windows, Sharn's towers lit up like a circuit board beneath them. Lyon had painted in a frenzy, his magic more potent than before, and every brushstroke had felt like a confession.
Crimson for how he'd felt when he'd seen her fashion show, the painful bloom of hope.
Indigo for the nights he'd lain awake thinking of her, bruised with wanting.
Gold for this moment, precious and perfect and fleeting.
When the painting was done, when they were both exhausted and paint-stained and satisfied, Selina had looked at the canvas and seen herself transformed. Not the actress, not the spy, but something else entirely. Someone luminous and real and loved.
"Is this how you see me?" she'd whispered.
"Always," Lyon had replied.
There were more meetings after that. Dinners in hole-in-the-wall restaurants in Middle Central where no one knew their faces. Midnight flights on hired skycoaches, soaring between the towers with the city spread beneath them like a jeweled tapestry. Lazy mornings in Selina's apartment where they'd talk about everything and nothing, planning impossible futures.
They knew it couldn't last. Knew that eventually, reality would intrude. But for those three months, they pretended otherwise.
They pretended they were just Lyon and Selina, two people falling in love.
Selina realized she was pregnant on a Tuesday morning, alone in her bathroom, staring at a simple divination charm that glowed soft and undeniable blue.
For a long moment, she couldn't breathe.
A baby. She was carrying Lyon's baby.The implications crashed over her like a wave. Her mother would be furious—this wasn't part of the plan, wasn't the useful marriage alliance she'd been cultivating. Lyon's family would demand answers, would probably accuse her of trap** him. Her career would suffer; pregnant actresses were rarely cast as leading ladies.
But beneath all the panic, beneath all the logical reasons why this was a disaster, Selina felt something else.
Joy.
She was going to have a baby with the man she loved. A child who might have his dichromatic eyes and her talent for magic. A little person who would be theirs, completely and utterly theirs.
Selina laughed through her tears, pressing a hand to her still-flat stomach. "Hello there," she whispered. "You're going to complicate everything, aren't you?"
She told Lyon that evening, in her apartment where they'd first made love. She'd planned a whole speech, had rehearsed different ways to break the news gently.
Instead, the moment he walked through the door, she blurted: "I'm pregnant."
Lyon froze. The flowers he'd brought—he always brought flowers now, a sweetness that never failed to make her smile—dropped from his nerveless fingers.
"You're... what?"
"Pregnant," Selina repeated. "I know it's terrible timing, I know we haven't discussed this, I know your family situation is complicated, but—"
She didn't get to finish. Lyon crossed the room in two strides and swept her into his arms, spinning her around with a whoop of pure delight.
"Lyon!" Selina gasped, laughing despite herself. "Put me down, you'll make me dizzy!"
He set her down but didn't let go, his hands framing her face as he kissed her with an intensity that stole her breath. "We're having a baby," he said, wonder in his voice. "Selina, we're having a baby."
"You're not angry?"
"Angry?" Lyon looked at her as if she'd grown a second head. "Why would I be angry? This is— gods, this is the best news I've ever received."
"But your family—"
"Can go to all the hells in all the planes," Lyon said fiercely. "I don't care what they think. I love you. I love this." He placed his hand gently on her stomach. "We'll figure it out. Together."
Selina leaned into him, letting herself believe it. Just for a moment, she let herself imagine a future where it was that simple. Where love was enough.
"I'm scared," she admitted.
"Me too," Lyon said. "But we'll be scared together."
They spent that night planning, dreaming aloud about the life they'd build. Lyon talked about teaching their child to paint, about showing them the beauty in every color. Selina imagined reading bedtime stories, using her glamour magic to bring the characters to life. They laughedabout whose eyes the baby might inherit, whether they'd have magical talent, what kind of trouble a child of two secret-keepers might get into.
For one perfect night, they were just two people in love, preparing to become parents.
Reality returned the next morning, when Lyon went to tell his family.
Lyon had been gone for four hours when Selina's communication stone activated. She grabbed it immediately, expecting his voice.
Instead, she heard his mother.
"Miss Thrane." Lady D'Lyrandar's voice was ice and aristocratic disdain. "I believe we need to have a conversation about your... condition."
Selina's blood ran cold. "Where's Lyon?"
"My son is currently indisposed. He shared some rather disturbing news with us this morning, and we've been having a family discussion about the best way to handle this unfortunate situation."
"It's not a situation," Selina said, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach. "We're having a baby. Lyon and I—"
"Are making a terrible mistake," Lady D'Lyrandar cut in. "Miss Thrane, let's not pretend this is a love match. You're a spy from a foreign power, and my son is a valuable political asset. This pregnancy is either a trap or incredibly poor judgment on both your parts."
"You don't know anything about us."
"I know enough. I know that Lyon has been distracted and unfocused since his ill-advised public display at your fashion show. I know that his engagement negotiations with the Vadalis family have stalled because of rumors of an entanglement. And I know that a baby would destroy everything we've worked to build for him."
Selina felt tears prick her eyes. "What did Lyon say? Does he know you're calling me?"
"Lyon is emotional and not thinking clearly. He seems to have developed genuine feelings for you, which is... unfortunate. It clouds his judgment." Lady D'Lyrandar's voice softened slightly, becoming almost kind. "Miss Thrane, I'm not unreasonable. I understand that accidents happen.
We're prepared to offer you a substantial sum—enough to retire from acting, to live comfortably anywhere in Khorvaire. All we ask is that you... take care of the situation. Quietly."
"You want me to abort my baby."
"I want you to consider what's best for everyone involved. A child born out of wedlock to a spy and a noble heir? That child would face scrutiny and scandal their entire life. Is that really what you want?"
"What I want," Selina said, her voice shaking with fury, "is to build a life with the man I love and the child we created together. What I want is for you to trust that Lyon is capable of making his own decisions. What I want—"
"Is irrelevant," Lady D'Lyrandar finished. "You may have seduced my son, Miss Thrane, but youwon't trap him. Consider my offer carefully. You have three days to decide."
The communication stone went dead.
Selina stood there, shaking, her free hand still pressed protectively to her stomach. They wanted her to give up her baby. They wanted her to erase this piece of Lyon, this piece of them, as if it had never existed.
She wouldn't do it. She couldn't.
But fear crept in as the hours passed and Lyon didn't return. What if they'd convinced him?
What if he'd realized his mother was right, that this was all too complicated, too scandalous, too dangerous?
What if he chose his family over her?