Chapter 23
NIKIAS
Nikias managed to at least wait until the bleeding stopped and actually clean himself up instead of hiding the bloodstains behind an illusion. He burned the ruined clothes and washed the wine and blood off his skin in his room. There could be no trace of it.
That was important.
The first time his nursemaid had asked him where the bloodstain on his chiton had come from, he hadn’t been able to sleep on his back for a week afterward.
He feared that less than he feared the questions. Or worse, the realization.
If anyone ever found out…
Aimilia rejecting him in front of the whole court would be nothing compared to that.
So that fear ensured he waited until the shallow cuts stopped bleeding, his hair was dry from washing the mess out of it, and the illusion over his face was perfect.
His scar…
Nikias stared in the mirror, looking at it for the first time in a long time.
He looked anywhere but his heart when he changed.
He cast an illusion over it if he was in the bathhouse, but it wasn’t feasible for him to constantly hide it under an illusion.
His clothes covered it anyway. Unlike his injuries, it was always present.
The harsh, raised lines were visible across his fair skin, his heart beating against them.
Hypatia’s voice echoed in his ears.
It was just one rune, not one for casting. One written word.
Inamatus.
He’d called Faustina amata so many times, the last being while holding her in his arms as she died. The one word he had to bite his tongue not to say to Aimilia that would give his heart away in an instant.
Amata was beloved, or to be loved.
The scar mocked him.
Inamatus was the opposite. Unlovable.
Nikias would not let the demon win. She and her cursed abilities would prove false. He would not let the prophecy she’d carved into him be his fate.
So Nikias clasped his chiton, securing it so the scar would never be seen. His head still throbbed.
Was it wise?
He looked at the ring on his dresser.
This was important. Even if it wasn’t, all Nikias wanted was to see her.
His amata.
So no matter how inappropriate it might be at that hour, given the sun was setting and the fact that everyone was talking about her wearing his cloak, he knocked on her door anyway, excuse in hand.
“Oh, I am not doing this with you again today!”
Her voice came through the other side, thick, heavy, burning. What had he done now?
Still, angry Aimilia was better than no Aimilia. His battered soul would not rest until he laid eyes on her, safe and whole and in perfect condition.
“I promise, it’s important.”
“Nikias?”
The door opened, and there she was, with only a few dim light runes illuminating her. Her breath hitched at the sight of him, and a brief tidal wave of panic ripped through him, but his illusion was in place. This wide-eyed shock was something else.
“Were you expecting someone who has already given you trouble today?”
Aimilia shook her head. “No. I mean, I thought you were my uncle. He gave me grief this morning, but no more than I expected. Um, shouldn’t you—I mean, what is it?”
He could hardly admit he just wanted to languish in her presence in the hopes her existence would dim the pain still coursing through his skull.
“I haven’t gotten to truly speak with you since you came out of the collapse.”
Aimilia held the door, half hidden behind it as she looked down. “I mean… what is there really to say now?”
“Can I come in?” When she still didn’t look up at him, he whispered, “Please.”
Then she did look up, eyes scanning over his face and his heartbeat picked again. No matter how much it might look like she could see straight through him, she couldn’t.
“Alright, come on before someone sees.” Aimilia stepped back from the door and let him through.
Her room was rather sparse as most Runai’s were at her age especially. At the Academy there was only so much space, and moving from post to post, a lot of things were a hassle. Most of her true possessions and most Runai’s stayed at their House’s estate.
Still, he saw her cosmetics, her hair things and a little jewelry box on her vanity and he couldn’t help his smile. Then it only grew bigger when he saw his cloak sitting on the ground beside her dresser with her other ruined clothes.
“So, what is it?” Aimilia leaned against the dresser.
“I’m sure it goes without saying, but we suspect the Stonai.” He tightened his grip on the tiny box in his hand.
How long he could draw this out just so he could stand in front of her?
Aimilia nodded, arms crossed. “They are the ones best suited for such an attack. And given Hypatia’s letter, clearly there’s something more going on here.”
Well, he was going to have a hard time dragging this out if she was going to keep connecting everything.
“Right. I can no longer send Gavril and Marcella alone. If we are to deal with the demon on this issue, I must go in order to ensure she’s not up to anything either.”
“Are—I understand the reasoning, but are you sure?” Aimilia pushed off the dresser, voice lowering. He took the opportunity to step closer under the pretense of hearing her better. “Considering how the last two times you two have interacted went, I fear what will happen at a third.”
If he’d wanted to spare himself, he wouldn’t have shown his face at all, but still he had not imagined how much her lack of faith in him would cut through him.
“You’re afraid of who I’ll be if I see her a third time.” He couldn’t stop the ice from seeping into his tone.
If nothing else, maybe he could finally prove his character to her this time.
“If you’re going to make me say it, yes. I don’t know if it’s a good idea. Gavril and Marcella can handle her much better than you. I can—”
“If you think I would ever let you set foot in front of that demon without me at your side, you are sorely mistaken.”
He was right in front of her now, staring down at her as he tried to fight the memory crawling through his mind of blood and stone. His scar burned over his heart.
Aimilia swallowed, eyes darting across his face. She took a sharp breath.
“The matter is settled,” Nikias said. “We are leaving in two days.”
Aimilia huffed. “As you command, Your Highness.”
Her words cut through him worse than the glass smashing into his head. But he couldn’t let it show—
Aimilia winced and shook her head. “Sorry, I meant, sure, Nikias. I will be ready to leave in two days.”
“Good. That’s not—” Nikias took a deep breath. “That’s not the only reason I came here.”
Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. Nikias held up the box, opening it and pulling out the ring inside. He held it up in the fading light so she could see the runes etched on the interior.
“What—What is that for?” Aimilia whispered as he held it out, keeping the ring flat on his palm.
“Since we leave soon, I want you to have this. These runes—basically, this ring will boost the strength of any shield you cast. I hope you never need it. I wish I’d thought of this before I saw what could happen to you without it. But I can’t go back in time; all I can do is give it to you now.”
Her fingers trembled as she reached out and gently picked up the ring. She pulled it close and rolled the ring between her fingers, thumb brushing over the little gold leaves. “Nikias… I—”
He held his hand up. “Please, don’t try to refuse it. However poorly you think of me, please, just take it. There’s no obligation on your end. No one ever has to know you got it from me.”
Aimilia swallowed and slipped the ring onto her finger.
She curled her hand, flexing it as she stared at it.
“I… I’ll wear it. Thank you, Nikias. This is…
” She squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head and letting her braid shift over her shoulder.
Her lips shifted, trembling, but nothing else came out.
Wait…
Nikias stepped even closer.
She reached up and wiped at her eye but pretending to be pushing a loose strand of hair back. Finally, she got out in a thick voice. “You really shouldn’t have.”
He stepped even closer, peering down at her red-rimmed eyes. Not only was she about to cry, but… “Have you been crying?”
Aimilia jerked back. “What? No—what—What would I have to cry about?” She smiled like it would hide the water shining in her eyes. “I’m a hero, at least until the gossip keeps moving and everyone forgets about me.”
Did she really think that would work?
“Aimilia…” Nikias stepped even closer, and she backed up, trapped between him and the dresser. “Did something happen before I arrived? Did my parents say—” The cuts stinging increased and the throbbing in his temple doubled. “Did they do anything to you?”
“No. They—They didn’t say or do anything. T—To me.”
But could he trust she was telling him the truth?
She followed his gaze to her side. His fingers brushed her waist, coming to rest where the bruises had been.
He’d been planning on confronting her about his suspicions, informed by the gossip of the girls in the bathhouse spotting bruises on Aimilia.
He’d been waiting for the right time, but then the attack had happened.
“But my mother has, hasn’t she?”
Aimilia shifted, but he curled his fingers into the fabric, gently, always gently, but he could not let go. Not yet.
Aimilia whispered, “Once. She caught me off-guard, that’s all. Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry?” Nikias bit out the words between thuds in his head. “My wretched mother laid hands on you and you expect me not to worry?”
“Nikias—”
“You lied to me she’d done nothing and you promised me. Aimilia—” Nikias brushed his thumb over the fabric. “You promised me you wouldn’t be alone with them.”
“What was I supposed to do?”
“Send for me! She laid hands on you and you still risked answering her summons without sending for me?”
Nikias could only be grateful he’d found out from the healer he’d sent about the summons and managed to arrive before his parents did anything.