Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Z exx held Linnea as her tears soaked into his tunic, her body trembling against his in the dim confines of the servant's quarters. The room was small enough that he could have touched both walls at once if he'd extended his arms, the air close and warm with the scent of their mingled breath. A single shaft of dusty light filtered through the high grated window, casting elongated shadows across the worn stone floor.
Her emotions crashed over him in waves—anger, betrayal, guilt, fear—yet instead of drowning in them as he might have expected, he felt strangely anchored. Connected. Each surge of feeling that passed from her to him through their bond only strengthened his resolve to protect her, to stand beside her through whatever came next.
He understood her pain. The sting of betrayal was familiar to him—he had felt it in his own heart when the Dothveks former leader had been revealed to be a murderer. That shared understanding flowed between them now, a current stronger than words could express.
Gradually, her sobs quieted, her breathing steadied, though she remained in his embrace as if drawing strength from the contact.
"I wasn't sure why my brother left to join your people," she said, pulling back just enough to look up at him. "I never understood his fascination with the sand dwellers, his insistence that there was something essential your people preserved that ours had lost. But now I do. Your people are loyal and brave. You live as equals, not as masters and servants. You do not have highborns and commoners. There are no Dothveks who live in decadence while others exist in squalor.”
She glanced around the tiny room, taking in the sparse furnishings, the single threadbare blanket on the narrow bed, the chipped cup on the small table. "I had no idea that workers lived like this beneath the towers. All these years, I've walked the halls above, never questioning where the people who serve us retire at night." Shame colored her voice. "What kind of leader doesn't know such basic truths about her own domain?"
Zexx guided her to sit on the edge of the bed, crouching before her so their eyes remained level. "The Dothveks aren't perfect," he said, thinking of his own prejudice against the Cresteks. "But we do share thoughts, which means we know other Dothveks’ hearts. It is impossible to harbor hate when you feel another’s pain and joy.”
He took her hands in his, feeling their delicate strength. “When you live on the sands, what happens to one happens to all. That is why we say, what happens to you happens to me. It's the only way we can survive and flourish. When one suffers, all suffer. When one prospers, all prosper."
Linnea's eyes, still bright with tears, held a wistful longing. "That kind of life sounds wonderful," she said softly. "To be part of something so unified, so genuinely connected."
"You would be welcomed in my village," he told her, meaning every word. The thought of taking her back to the oasis filled him with a profound yearning. "But then the Cresteks would lose you as a leader, and having a leader who wants change and equality is something your people desperately need."
Something shifted in her expression—the vulnerability receding, replaced by a steely determination he'd seen before when she’d met with her councilors. She straightened her spine, squaring her shoulders as if already reclaiming the mantle of chancellor.
"You're right," she said, her voice gaining strength with each word. "I'm not going to let a bunch of old, high-born Crestek males push me out. Not when there's so much work to be done, so many wrongs to right." She stood abruptly, nearly knocking him backward as she moved toward the door with sudden purpose. "We need to go now, find K’Nar, gather whatever allies we still have—"
Zexx caught her arm, pulling her gently but firmly back. "We need to be clever about this," he cautioned, recognizing the reckless courage that threatened to send her rushing headlong into danger. "You need more than just me to back you." He gestured to their surroundings, the hidden room beneath layers of stone. "And we can't leverage the arrival of the bounty hunter ship if we're stuck in the basement of the tower. Or worse, captured by your enemies.”
Linnea paused, the fire in her eyes dimming slightly as reason reasserted itself. "You're right," she admitted, though he could feel her impatience vibrating through their connection. "We need a plan."
She paced the small space, three steps in one direction before having to turn. "My brother mentioned hidden passages the resistance used during the height of tensions between our peoples. Tunnels that led beyond the city walls, out to meeting points in the rocky outcroppings." She stopped suddenly, eyes widening. "I think I remember where one is—not far from here, connecting to the old storage chambers in the eastern section."
"We should wait until the search has died down, until the protest has dispersed," he advised. "Moving now, when they're actively hunting us, would be too risky."
She nodded. “We’ll wait then.”
The logic was sound, but it wasn't the only reason he wanted to delay their departure. The thought of a few hours alone with Linnea, away from the constant vigilance and pretense required in the tower, away from the imminent dangers they would soon face again, held its own appeal. He arched an eyebrow, allowing a hint of suggestion to enter his voice. "I wonder how we'll pass the time until then."
The tension in the room shifted, the air suddenly charged with a different kind of energy. Linnea's lips curved into a smile that reached her eyes, chasing away the last shadows of her tears.
"That," she said with a husky laugh that sent heat coursing through his veins, "is another thing I love about Dothveks. Always practical about survival, but never forgetting to live in the moment."
His breath caught at her casual use of the word "love," though he knew she hadn't meant it in the way his heart instantly seized upon. Still, the possibility that she might someday use that word with its full weight of meaning made his pulse quicken.
He closed the distance between them, his hand finding the curve of her waist as if drawn there by some magnetic force. "Living in the moment is a skill developed when life on the sands can change in an instant," he murmured, drawing her closer. "A sudden sandstorm, a serpent's attack—you learn to savor what you have while you have it."
Her hands slid up his chest to link behind his neck, her body yielding against his. "Then teach me, Dothvek," she whispered, her breath warm against his lips. "Teach me to savor this moment, when everything else is so uncertain."
He didn't need to be asked twice.