Chapter 38
Nadya propped up in her bed the second I entered our room. “Where have you been!? Are you all right?”
Tears burst out of me like a faulty fountain. She leapt out of her bed and hurried towards me, her slender arm wrapping around my side. Then she helped me get into my bed and slipped beside me, covering us both with the worn sheet.
She whispered, “Are you in love with him?”
“I’m a fool!” My sobs and shudders did not subside. It reminded me of my first day at the orphanage, my earliest recollection.
“Shh. Don’t say that. He is the fool for breaking your heart.” She wiped my tears with the back of her fingers.
“I knew I should have stayed away, but—but I couldn’t resist him. He—”
“It’s all right. It happens to the best of us. It’s the way things are, unfortunately.”
My tears persisted, but I managed to choke out, “I did things with him. I did things for him. And he, for me.”
She removed strands of sticky hair away from my face, wiping my tears once more. “I’m sorry I have the need to say this, but Delia, isn’t this how relationships are where we’re from? Men can have many companions.”
“But—but it’s not like that where he’s from. I wanted it to be like that. He promised me things.”
She looked into my eyes and her face softened. “I’m sorry.”
“It felt so real,” I whispered. “He made me believe that he cared for me, that he wanted me. How could he possibly do that?”
“I don’t know much about Fae, Delia, but rumours often describe them as merciless and vengeful beings.”
My brow knitted. “But what have I ever done to—” I forced a blink. “Vengeful,” I repeated. “Oh.”
“What?” Nadya asked, her voice tense. “Did you do something to offend him?”
I swallowed. “When he first came here, I—I may have done something to dent his pride and ego.”
Her cheek became taut. “You have your answer, then.”
“He—he lashed out at me.” I thought I’d whispered to myself, remembering the way his piercing eyes had glowered.
“He what!?” Nadya hissed through clenched teeth. “He doesn’t deserve you, you know.”
“But that was a lifetime ago. How is it possible for someone to fake it for months? And to fake what felt so real.”
“A lifetime for you. Open your eyes, Delia, he’s an immortal.
Months would feel like a few seconds for him, years merely days.
You must realise that the fantasies you’ve built in your head could never be.
He has infinite coin and infinite time, and you—you’re merely a servant, just like me.
To you, he might be a whole chapter in your book, but to him, you’re just one line in a library made of infinite books. ”
I swallowed. A hollow ache spread through me, dark and silent as the Seer’s lair.
“What?” I asked, noticing contemplation in Nadya’s brown eyes.
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“I really don’t want to…but you know how I suck at keeping things from you.” She pursed her lips, clearly regretting her words. “The last thing I want is to put you in harm’s way, I—”
“Tell me,” I urged.
“Well, it’s too late now anyway, so I guess no harm—”
“Too late? Too late for what? Just tell me.”
Nadya let out an exhale through puffed cheeks. “When the meeting ended, Lord Hailin asked for you. He asked me to tell you to hurry to the tall house and to bring with you the green box. He said you’ll find it in his room beneath your first. Whatever that means.”
“He—he’s already in the tall house? With her? He’s in the fucking breeding house? I’m going to throw up.”
“Don’t you dare break yourself apart for him. No man is worth that much, especially one who thinks so poorly of you.”
My head shook. “I don’t want to go up there. I—I cannot. I’d fall apart…I—”
“You don’t have to worry about that, at least not for the next few weeks.
The tall house’s doors are now locked and guarded.
No one can come in or out unless they’re a Sand Priestess, or that old healer…
or Tomas. Can you believe it?” Nadya snorted.
“They appointed Tomas of all people to serve them—and both Lord Hailin and Princess Maryam cannot come down from the tall house until her next bleeding, or until she becomes with ch—What I mean is, you have plenty of time to—”
“I know what a conceiving ritual is.” My words came out harsh, yet Nadya was the one who said, “I’m sorry.”
“Do not tell anyone,” I warned.
“Of course not, your secret is safe with me. But if he tries to harm y—”
“That’s not what I meant. What we heard during that meeting is dangerous information. Swear it. Swear you won’t mention one word about what we heard.”
“What’s happening, Delia?” Her voice was a far cry from her earlier strong and encouraging tone. It morphed into one tainted with fear and questions. “Why does the Ice King want to ally with Ramel?”
“It’s—it’s only a precaution. In case the Fire King decides to break his promise of peace.
Don’t worry too much about it,” I said, giving Nadya the same void reassurance that Aegir had given me.
She nodded in understanding but her eyes conveyed otherwise.
“Swear it,” I repeated. “Not one word to anyone, it’s for your own safety, other people’s safety. ”
“I swear it,” she promised. And I hoped she would keep it. I loved Nadya dearly and I did trust her, but sometimes—sometimes her tongue spoke before her mind was done filtering, which was why I could never tell her any of my deepest secrets.
My lips pursed and I nodded, then shifted onto my side, giving her my back.
She held me from around my waist. The embrace was somehow familiar, yet so different.
It felt wrong—so wrong it angered me, forcing me to ask her to go to her own bed.
I felt a shred of guilt for sending her away but I couldn’t feel the sensation of anyone holding me. I wanted to curl inward.
“Haste, child. Haste.” My swollen eyes lifted.
It didn’t take me long to pack that following morning. Or was it still that same night? Dawn had yet to break.
My legs dragged all the way to the second floor. Eldric didn’t answer his door. He was probably still out there, surveying the skies for potential threats.
Looking at the bed we’d shared two nights ago, still unmade, came with a heart-crushing ache.
I felt emptier than the bottom drawer of the dresser.
In return, I placed the red dress inside, neatly folded, and shoved the drawer shut.
It reminded me too much of him. Twice, I wore it—one time when he surprised me with dinner, the other when he bit on my neck. I would not be taking that with me.
Yes…I was leaving.
My “conversation” with the soul-eater left me more confused than anything. None of the Seer’s riddled words seemed to make any sense. But one thing was clear as day. I had to go back to where I used to play with the horses. And that was two days away. Which meant, I needed supplies.
I moved towards the desk—the desk. Black ink feathered across the crumpled papers, a trace of my dripping hair trailing over the desk as time slowed around us.
Around me. My fingers found the twin scars at my neck.
My lips wobbled and my eyes filled with tears at the raw memory.
But my skin hadn’t yet forgotten the time it burned with the tip of an ice dagger.
The compass wasn’t in one of the many drawers, but I did find a detailed map of Lyrantheia and a couple of small daggers. I searched everywhere for it. But Aegir was the master of locks, and I would’ve bet all of my six silver coins that he had it locked somewhere in here. But where?
Then I remembered the green box. He said you’ll find it in his room beneath your first.
Our first what? Our first kiss? Our first touch?
My gaze settled on the desk once more.
I opened its drawers. My brow rose. “Hmm.” They ended too soon.
Kneeling, I pulled one of the drawers out and found wood.
I cleared the desk, then firmly grabbed the vast wooden surface and pulled up.
A cool, familiar sensation wrapped around the skin of my hands, allowing me to open it.
I set the map of Naar aside. There. The compass. I placed it in my bag.
Then I reached for the small leather pouch. My eyes widened. Gold coins. I also placed it in my bag.
That was it. I had all that I needed. But before I could close the lid, curiosity tugged at me. I reached for the green box.
I gawked at it—stared—until my eyes and my lungs burned and twitched with molten jealousy. And damn me if I didn’t put it in my bag.
Before exiting, I did something I knew I would both immediately and later regret. I—I folded shut the pocket flame and the everlasting white light extinguished.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. A futile apology to Semuel for breaking the promise he had made for the people of Ilma. When I opened it, it relit. I blinked at the half-expectation. It was true, then. It was real.
I snapped the pocket shut and placed it in my bag.
“Good girl,” I told her, rubbing that white diamond between her big brown eyes. The apple I gave her seemed too small of a payment. Poor Cinnamon. I might have overpacked her a little. But we needed the food, the water. I needed the blanket, clothes, weapons, and all my other valuables.
I stared at the towering stack of books—all romances.
I huffed, knowing I’d sooner pluck out my own eyes with my fingernails than read a love story.
And so it seemed that I had to resort to the “no-thanks pile.” I reached for the darkest one, Memoirs of a Dark Woman, and replaced it with another book.
The book he had given me at Dunehaven. I reluctantly hung the bow, my bow, close to the arrow—the cry-for-war—and…
it was petty really. I had taken a pouch filled with his gold coins, I had taken a variety of his weapons, yet I felt the need to leave behind the silver coin he had not long ago given me.