Chapter 13 #5
“Let’s go!” Jasila’s voice rang out from beyond the doorway, her small frame hidden by the wall of muscle that was Theo and Tavrik completely blocking the entrance.
I drew in a shaky breath
Please don’t let him be there. Please, please, please—
Waves of conversation crashed over us as we entered the throne room. Every seat was already occupied, the space alive with movement. I swept the room in one desperate scan, praying to the Heavens, which never seemed to listen.
And there he was.
The invisible noose around my neck tightened until black spots danced at the edges of my vision. Even from across the room, his presence was a gravitational force I couldn’t escape.
He sat rigid in his throne, every line in his body radiating controlled tension. His gaze was locked determinedly on Iznia, who hovered beside him like a poisonous flower. The deliberate way he refused to acknowledge my existence was more devastating than if he’d torn me apart with his stare.
It was better this way.
Iznia’s eyes found mine across the expanse of the room, her auburn hair catching the light as she tossed it over her shoulder. Her lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile.
I had to clench my jaw to keep from baring my teeth.
I stalked to our usual table. The familiar comfort of my friends settling around me was the only thing keeping me tethered. Theo and Mira sat on my left while Tavrik and Jasila sat to my right.
I made my plate a fortress of food, piled high with everything within reach. I hadn’t eaten all day, and my stomach was consuming itself from the inside out.
Kaseer dropped into the chair across from us, all loose limbs and easy confidence. He reached for his brass cup, tipping it back and draining it in one long pull.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Did you miss me?”
“Oh, absolutely.” I shoved food into my mouth, chewing slowly to give the sarcasm time to settle. “I spent every waking moment counting the days, the hours, the very seconds until I would see you again.”
Kaseer pressed a hand to his chest, his head falling back in mock agony. “Your words cut deeper than any blade, Elira.” His free hand was already reaching for the pitcher, liquid sloshing dangerously as he refilled his cup to the brim.
Theo’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “Good thing you have wine to numb the pain.”
“Don’t worry about me, pretty boy.” Kaseer’s grin was pure trouble, but his gaze flickered to the throne.
The shift was subtle, but his shoulders straightened, and his eyes tightened.
“Wine is merely liquid courage, and—” another glance toward Dalkhan, this one loaded with meaning, “looks like we’re going to need it. ”
Tavrik’s fork froze halfway to his mouth. “Some of us don’t need liquid courage to function.”
Kaseer took another long sip from his cup. “Oh, how very noble of you. Tell me, does that stick up your ass come naturally, or do you have to practice?”
Theo laughed, sharp and bright, his hand slapping the table hard enough to make the platters jump.
As the night unfolded around us, Kaseer’s stories flowed like water from a spring—tales of distant lands, impossible adventures, and questionable encounters with creatures that may or may not have crawled out of his imagination.
Despite the laughter that rose from our table like incense, I remained painfully aware of the presence across the room.
Every so often, it pressed against me, a heaviness between my shoulder blades. The sensation of being watched, wanted, and despised all at once. Each time I dared a glance towards the throne, I found only the hard line of his profile, his attention absorbed by whatever Iznia whispered in his ear.
Then the energy in the room drained. Conversations died mid-sentence as Dalkhan rose from his throne. Every head bowed as he moved, mine included.
He passed our table.
Nothing. Not a pause, not even a glance.
It hurt worse than if he’d driven a knife between my ribs.
I was still heaving for air, my hand scraping against my neck when Zaheera slipped through my mind like smoke through cracks.
She hadn’t spoken to me since my last encounter with Dalkhan, and her silence was like a knot of disappointment in my gut.
Not just in my inability to stay away, but for the countless times she had warned me, so gently, not to fall for him.
It had been nine days since I’d thrown lies in his face. Nine days since he’d looked at me. Nine days of never-ending torment that had carved hollows under my eyes and turned my stomach into a pit of bubbling tar.
I knew what Zaheera was about to say before she even formed the words.
I still hadn’t found the stone. I’d barely been given the opportunity to look for it, and even if I had, I wouldn’t have been of any use.
My mood had been declining, frustration at the forefront of my conscious like a curse poisoning every thought.
Mira had taken us on walks but remained glued at my side.
We’d gone to the library, the pits—still no bathing house—and back to the markets, all while she watched me like I might crumble to dust.
“Well?” Zaheera’s voice sliced through my skull like a sharp nail drawn across bone.
I twisted my fingers into my hair, tugging until my scalp burned.
“I’m trying…” The lie tasted bitter, and I hoped to the Heavens she couldn’t taste it too.
“Are you? Because from where I sit, it looks like you are wallowing.”
“I’m not wallowing,” I snapped. “I’m—”
“Pining. Brooding. Wasting precious time on a man who won’t even look at you.”
Each word hit like a fist to the face. Though she hadn’t spoken to me in days, it was clear she could feel me. See me.
Something cracked within my chest.
“You don’t understand—”
“I understand perfectly. You’re choosing him over saving your realm. Over saving yourself.”