Chapter 62 #2
It’s not the warmest welcome, but it could still stand to be a darn sight colder than it is.
I remember what Kyor said about the guard being there for anything I need and wonder if perhaps I should call him to take her away, but I half suspect that Zara wants me to show that I’m still afraid of her. I’m not.
A slight smile quirks at the corners of her lips. A smile because she wants to attack me? It would be a great time to do it. By opening up the wounds the water caused in my lungs, she could drown me right here on dry land.
As the thought arises, I’m shocked to feel a tingle of magic spread through my palms. Is this what my power does?
Raises its head when I feel threatened? From what’s happened so far that makes sense, although it still doesn’t answer the question of where the hell it came from.
All magic flows to Mortidem upon death, so how in the Gods’ names did that spectre on the ice pass some to me?
‘I’m not lost.’ Zara takes a seat on the edge of the bed. ‘I just saw Kyor. Judging by the inane smile on his face, I assumed you were awake so thought I’d come and apologise.’
I raise my eyebrows so high I’m sure they hit my hairline. ‘You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that.’
She exhales sharply. ‘I’m sorry I attacked you when you first arrived. And again after Shim died. I was wrong to lash out.’
The way her jaw clenches, it’s as though it’s physically painful for her to get the words out. Not that I’m complaining at all.
‘And in the battle yard?’ I question. ‘You remember? You were all literally trying to kill me.’
‘That was Hold—’ she snarls, only to cut herself off. ‘That too.’
I try to read her face, see if there’s any sign of trickery, but whatever my new powers are, they don’t stretch to lie-detecting.
Silence fills the room.
She really does look genuine, and having one more ally in this thing would definitely be more useful than keeping her as an enemy, but I’m not going to respond with something as trite as ‘apology accepted.’ A two-minute conversation doesn’t negate everything she’s tried to do to me up until now.
‘I appreciate you taking the time to say that,’ I reply in what I believe is a fair answer.
She nods, only to remain where she is, looking at me as though she expects me to say more. When she realises that isn’t going to happen, she stands up and walks to the door, only to hesitate. ‘Maybe as a gesture of goodwill I could paint your sigils for tonight.’
I frown. ‘Tonight?’
My stomach lurches. They can’t be doing the Ofur tonight, can they? Or maybe they can. It’s been three days and the others are probably all well-rested. But how would they already know it’s happening? There have been no chimes, have there?
‘It’s tradition on the Isles,’ Zara interrupts my mental spiral.
‘People wear their sigils for balls and formal occasions. I’m sure they’ve got some paint in one of these drawers.
’ She moves over to the dresser and sure enough, she pulls out a palette.
‘See? I mean, you can check with Kyor when he gets back, but that’s how it’s always been every time I’ve attended a ball here.
I don’t see why it’d be any different now. ’
Can I really do that? Let her paint my sigils? Pretend I actually like her? There are only three people I’ve ever let paint them before: my parents and Kyor. She’s not a name I want to add to the list.
‘Thank you for telling me and for the offer, but I like to do it myself. As a sign of respect, you know?’
She nods. ‘I understand. I should let you get ready.’ For a second time, she turns to leave, but once again she hesitates, this time to reach to her belt and withdraw a dagger. She’s not seriously going to try that now, is she? Would she kill me for not letting her paint my sigils?
The tingle in my palm grows stronger and a pulse begins in my chest, the energy rolling through my veins. The tingling turns into a deep throb as she turns the blade around, hilt towards me. Offering it to me. What the fuck?
‘It’s tradition,’ she says. ‘Where my family comes from, we offer blades to those we respect. I thought perhaps you could wear it tonight. Since I can’t paint your sigils.’
I remain fixed to the spot, not reaching for the gift. There has to be some kind of ulterior motive, a trap waiting for me, but I can’t see what it is.
‘I don’t mean to sound like a bitch,’ Zara breaks the silence, ‘but if you don’t take it, it’s fucking rude. Like, big-time smite rude. But I get it if that’s your plan. It’s not like I wouldn’t deserve it.’
Could it be poisoned? I doubt it, given how she picked it up herself. The poison would be on her too, and she’s been holding it for far longer than I intend to.
The tingling is still in my palm as I take the hilt of the dagger. I’m not sure if I’m controlling it or if it’s controlling me, but either way, I know that power is at my fingertips if I need it, and it’s the first time I’ve felt a tiny modicum of control in fourteen years.
‘Thank you. I guess I’ll see you at the ball then.’
‘Right. It’s the big room on the ground floor. You can’t miss it. I’d better go get dressed and do my own sigils. I’ll leave you to it.’
It’s difficult to decide what the most unbelievable part of the last few days has been.
The fact that I’m in a relationship with the man who ruined my family, that I can, on some level, communicate with giant, ancient krakens, or that Zara was nice to me.
Actually, screw that. The last one is definitely the weirdest.
With Zara finally gone, I head over to the wardrobe.
Given that there was paint for the sigils inside, I expect there to be clothes as well, and I’m not disappointed.
The array of fabrics and styles are even greater than those Dinah gave me, and unlike my selection back on the mainland, everything here is the height of fashion.
As I run my fingers across the material, I can’t help but think of Llinos.
She would have loved this. There’s one dress in particular, in a deep green, that I can imagine would have complemented her skin tone perfectly. A knot fixes itself in my stomach.
Can I really go and face her family? Look them in the eye knowing I’m the one who should be dead, not her?
I don’t have a choice. Not really.
With a deep breath in, I reach my hand up and pull out a dress at random. Turns out there are some things even scarier than krakens, and the sooner I get this done, the better.