Chapter 23 #2
“Then tell me that,” she replied, her eyes flashing. “I could’ve been in the hatchery, where no one is allowed to go anyway. I would’ve been safe there. And useful. Instead of wasting every minute stuck in my own head here.”
This went beyond keeping her locked away, I realized belatedly. This was about her having to face the rawness of her own emotions, with no distractions…and she resented me for it.
“Very well,” I murmured, my stubbornness softening. “I’m sorry.”
Amaia blinked, her hands pausing in her washing. “It’s…all right.”
She bit her lip, looking a little embarrassed now.
“I didn’t really mean what I said earlier,” she said quietly. “About me…about me wanting to leave. About not liking you.”
That was what she was worried about?
“I know,” I said simply. “You have a temper. I don’t know why that surprised me.”
“Not usually,” she said, “but when I get worked up…I really get worked up. It just takes a lot to get to that point.”
“And I pushed you over that edge.”
“Not just you,” she replied. “Obviously. I…I did make a mess of things today. I didn’t mean to. I thought that maybe it would help. Though I don’t know if it was selfish, me trying to absolve the guilt I feel with truth. But what’s done is done. I know that.”
“Your admission was ill-timed,” I finally said. “But it can’t be helped now. Grymia would’ve found out eventually, I’m certain. But now we have bigger problems.”
“And those are?” she asked, stopping in her washing to gaze at me firmly.
I slung my arms back onto the edge of the tub, leaning back. “Elysom’s council wants Ryak executed.”
Her eyes went wide. “What? They actually agreed?”
It was political posturing…and nothing more. I didn’t want a part in sending a message to the Dothikkar. I only wanted justice for a murder that had happened in my own territory, justice I’d promised to a grieving mother.
But Elysom…
They had spies placed in Dothik, of course. Spies that had been there far longer than the Dakkari even realized. Far longer than when Sarkin Dirak’zar had been tasked with making contact with the Dakkari last year.
And those spies had heard the rumblings in the Dothikkar’s own palace. That he was paranoid that the Karag would strike Dothik first, that it was our ultimate mission to gain control of the Dakkari capital city and slowly dismantle the nation from within until we took it for our own.
His argument was that we had Elthikan power.
He wasn’t wrong. Elthika were the most powerful weapon in existence, even over heartstone magic. To know that your reluctant ally possessed that kind of might and power…it would make anyone fearful if you were so lacking in strength.
Elysom’s council thought it was an opportune moment to remind the Dothikkar of that very thing he feared. To force him to reveal what Elysom already knew: that he didn’t trust the Karag in the slightest and would take the first opportunity to weaken us.
The Heartstone Accords were a formality and nothing more. They were the illusion of peace between our two nations, but when it really came down to it, the only thing that was important was control over the heartstones.
Ryak’s execution would be less about justice for the life he cut short, the life he stole, the son he took.
Instead it would be a political message. It put a sour taste in my mouth.
And that wasn’t all.
“Elysom also wants all the Dakkari sent back to Dothik. From here and from Sarroth.”
Amaia’s shoulders moved with her heavy inhale. “When?”
“I won’t allow it,” I told her, the water trickling when I moved slightly. “Elysom can only make requests, not demands, of a Karath.”
She blew out a breath. “What about Brune and Nevin?”
“Do you want them to stay?” I asked, cocking my head to the side, eyes narrowed on her.
“Brune,” she said, looking down at the water.
“Not Nevin?”
“I—I don’t know him well enough,” she replied truthfully. “But it’s up to Brune to decide. Maybe this has changed things for him. Maybe he wants to return home.”
“And what about you?” I asked, curiously. “What do you want?”
Her gaze connected with mine, steady. There was something in her expression I couldn’t read, something that made my brow furrow in confusion.
Finally, she said, “I want to see all the hatchlings born. I want to see Kyr fly for the first time. I want to see Samryn healed.”
A gruff sound fell from my throat.
“If I left before then,” she said, “it would feel unfinished…for a long time. Maybe even forever. I don’t want that. But…it’s become more than I thought it would. With you.”
“Because of your heartstone magic,” I guessed. When her face flushed, I asked, “Or something else?”
“There’s a lot here for me, Alaryk. That’s what I’m trying to say. You’re included in that.”
I inclined my head, a swell of something I didn’t want to give a name to rising in my chest.
“I know I said something different earlier,” she added.
She sank down into the bath, the surface of the water lapping at her lips.
Amaia looked like she had in Ny’am, when she’d fallen into the water at the base of the stone walkways—like a goddess as she’d emerged, her magic prickling over my skin, electrifying the air as desire had pumped hotly through me.
“But I wanted you to know how I really feel.”
Was it a little fucked that I’d liked her temper? That I’d liked that she’d submitted to me, trusting me, at the very least, to give her some relief? That she’d been passionate? That she’d been unafraid of stoking my own temper?
Amaia of Rath Savenal had surprised me at almost every turn.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” came her soft question, which floated across the arm’s distance we were apart.
“Like what?” I asked, a challenge.
She shook her head, not giving a voice to what she was thinking. Shy now? Maddening female.
“What does this mean for us?” she asked after a brief lapse of silence.
“Sex, you mean?” I asked to clarify.
She nodded.
I wasn’t going to stop—that was all I knew.
“It doesn’t have to change anything,” I answered. “Besides your living arrangements.”
She frowned.
“I already told you before—I don’t trust anyone to keep you safe,” I said. “You’ll live here with me. You can go about your duties at the hatchery during the day, but I’ll have a guard assigned to you throughout the village. One of my own riders.”
Her lips parted, an indignant flash crossing her features.
“After today’s meeting,” I added, “it’s best that you have a guard with you anyway. Not just because of us.” I gestured between our naked bodies. “I expect you won’t like this arrangement, but I think it’s necessary. Elysom knows about you now, about your ability.”
“Someone told this councilmember?” she asked, frowning.
“Gevanth.” I inclined my head. “It was what I didn’t want to happen, but now that it has, we’ll deal with it.
That means I want you near. I’m committing myself to the Arsadia through the rest of the riding season.
And if you decide to stay beyond the exchange agreements, you’ll return to Grym with me after the choosing. ”
“I won’t,” she replied. “Change my mind, I mean.”
I let it slide, but she didn’t know how wrong she was.
“Are we in agreement?”
“And what do I get if I agree?” she asked, raising her brow. She rubbed the gem of her pendant, casting the bath water in momentary red light before she let it drop. “To stay here with you?”
“What do you want?” I asked softly, curious what she would say. Another deal between us, another barter.
She nibbled on her lip. I saw when the answer came to her, but oddly, she didn’t voice it right away. Like she was weighing the consequences if she said it.
“Tell me.”
“I…I don’t want to fall asleep alone if I stay here,” she finally said.
The words surprised me. The quiet stretched in the bath as she shifted, waiting for my reply.
Because she didn’t want to be alone, I knew. She’d said something similar to me down in Ny’am.
“All right,” I said, making her gaze snap up toward me. “Then you won’t be.”
Easy enough.
She sniffed, as if she hadn’t just asked me to lie beside her each and every night she was here. “So we are in agreement? Again?” she added.
“It seems we are.”
That was easier than I’d thought it’d be.
“What…what are you going to do about Ryak?” came her hesitant question.
I looked down at the rippling of the water.
I didn’t want to be a tool for Elysom, used to relay a strong but clear threat to a distant king.
Then again, I risked the backlash and uprising of Grymia’s citizens, who knew the precedence for a murder. If I let this one slide, what would become of the order and law that we were all bound to?
If one murdered, their life was forfeit.
If one stole an Elthika egg or hatchling, their life was forfeit.
If one harmed an Elthika maliciously without provocation, their life was forfeit.
Three simple laws that led to the highest form of punishment.
I knew what needed to be done. What always should’ve been done. The knowledge settled deep into my bones, the answer clear.
I met her eyes.
Then I said simply, “Ryak will be executed.”
There was no other choice.