78. Ayres
Ayres pulled in another deep breath of air, feeling the pressure in his chest ease with every minute he was there. Home.
Leaning against the doorway to the balcony, he watched Rosalie as she tipped her white, delicately painted watering can forward to water her carefully manicured pathos vines.
Kaid, Rosalie’s eleven-month-old son, sat on a blanket a few feet away watching his mother with big curious eyes. She hummed to herself as she worked, and occasionally Kaid would coo and chirp, blowing his lips out and waving his pudgy little arms around in excitement as he tried to imitate her.
Gods, it was adorable.
Kaid blew his lips out and cooed loudly again, causing Rosalie to look over her shoulder at the boy and laugh before moving onto the next thirsty plant. “Pretty close, Kaid. Maybe your uncle can teach you how to really hum,” Ayres said.
Rosalie arched her eyebrow at Ayres before laughing. “You would be an awful teacher. You can’t carry a tune to save your life.”
Ayres gave her a sardonic smile and pulled in one more deep breath of air before he bent down and picked up the small, pudgy blond boy.
Kaid immediately wrapped one of his little arms around Ayres’s neck, focusing up at him with those big blue eyes as he smacked his other hand against Ayres’s lips.
Ayres laughed and blew a little raspberry against the toddler’s baby soft skin.
“He looks so much like Eliza did when she was his age,” Ayres noted, talking about Rosalie’s first child who was currently attending the University of Koppar in House of Ice. Even though it was the best school in the Realms, none of the family had been very happy about seeing her leave. Only after the new Ice Queen and King had both taken a blood oath to promise her safety did Rosalie relent.
“I know, but thankfully he’s a lot less fussy than Eliza was. He’s getting so big; he has been trying to talk to me almost nonstop the past two weeks.” Rosalie set her watering can down and plucked her son out of Ayres’s arms, resting him on her hip. “You”re going to be a talker, huh? Just like your uncle. Driving his sister crazy with all his incessant babble.”
Rosalie turned to Ayres and gave him a mocking smirk. “I’m talking about Conrad, of course.”
“Of course.” Ayres rolled his eyes as Rosalie moved to the double doors of the balcony and deposited Kaid into a waiting nursemaid’s arm. “Will you take Kaid to his father? Tell him I’ll be up for lunch.”
The nursemaid nodded and left, closing the door to the balcony behind her.
Rosalie came back and rested her hip against the railing, facing Ayres and crossing her arms over her chest. “No more distractions, Ayr. Tell me why you’re here.”
Ayres crossed his arms over his chest, too. “Can’t I just come and say hello now and again?”
Rosalie uncrossed her arms and used them to grab onto the railing behind her as something sad flitted across her face. “You used to do that you know. Before you . . . before you took on the Harbinger.”
Ayres grimaced, and guilt pitted in the bottom of his stomach. “I know, Rose. And I promise once the Choosing is over, I’ll be around more. I just . . .” He blew out his breath and raked a hand through his hair.
“Resent me. You resent what I have here . . . what you gave me. A life, a family, a chance at something normal.”
Ayres flinched and he had to look away from his sister, as guilt and self-hatred gnawed at his heart so painfully, he thought he was going to be nauseous.
“Ayres,” Rosalie snapped, taking a step closer and grabbing onto his wrist. “Ayres, stop. It’s okay.”
She weaved her fingers through his and looked down at their clasped hands. Her pale skin was so different, so bright compared to his tanned skin covered in dark tattoos.
“Ayres, every single day I am thankful for you. For your sacrifice. Without you, my family would be non-existent. Kaid wouldn’t be here, and Eliza—” Rosalie cut herself off and swallowed thickly. “Without you, Ayres, my children would be dead.”
Ayres swallowed hard.
“Do you want to know something that keeps me up at night?” Rosalie swallowed thickly again, her watery eyes moving up to his. “The fact that I would do it again, Ayres. I know that I would let you take my place over and over again for them, even knowing what you would go through, what you would have to see, and what you would have to do to protect us.”
Her tears finally spilled over onto her cheeks, and her chin started to tremble. But she did not look away from him. “And I’m—gods, I”m so sorry, Ayr. I am the worst sister in the whole world; you never should have had to accept it. I’m the oldest. It should have been me. I . . .”
Rosalie broke down into sobs, pulling her hands away from his to cover her face. Without hesitation, Ayres wrapped his arms around his sister and pulled her into his chest.
She cried and sobbed, her whole body shaking. He held her until her body was still enough that she could hear him.
“It’s been hard.” His throat worked as he banished the image of the face of the young girl he had to kill a few moons ago flashed in his mind. Instead, he tried to focus on his nephew, on his beautiful niece, who was just as strong and free as her mother. “And even then, I would make the same choice, too. Knowing what I know now, I would take it on again. Again, and again, and again. There would not ever be another choice for me, Rose.”
Ayres moved his hands to her shoulders and stepped back, lowering his body enough that they were eye to watery eye. “It’s not easy, Rose. But it’s worth it. You and your family are worth it every day to me.”
She peered up at him through wet lashes. “Do you mean that?”
“I never say things I don’t mean.”
Rosalie sniffled and gave him a faint smile before she pulled him back in for a hug. “Thank you. I needed to hear you say that.”
He patted her back, trying to soothe her until she finally let him go. She wiped at her puffy red eyes, smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess. What can I do for you, Ayres? How is Piers holding up, pretending to be the prince?”
She backed away as Ayres chuckled. “Piers makes a better prince than I do most days. No one even bats an eye, and I’m pretty sure Lamonte and Elios have just forgotten at this point about the ruse. He’s a natural.”
Rosalie gave a meek laugh, and Ayres leaned back against the wall.
“Rose . . . I actually came here because I need to know why you chose Rorax as our Contestar.”
Rosalie blinked at him as she wiped a stray tear off her cheek and another sad smile crossed over her lips. “I’m surprised you made it this long before asking.”
She turned around and started peeling her vines off the railing, gently lifting each one so she could peer underneath them.
Ayres cocked his head to the side as she watched her lift more vines. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m looking for . . . Ah, here it is.” Rosalie pointed to something, and Ayres moved to see what she was pointing at. On the gray stone railing, there was a bloody handprint.
It looked so fresh that Ayres fearfully turned over Rosalie’s hands but didn’t find any injuries on either one of them. It must have been someone else’s blood.
He raised his eyebrow at her. “I don’t understand.”
“Those are Rorax’s handprints,” she said slowly, lifting a leaf to the left to show him another dark handprint. “I don’t think it was her own blood on her hands, but I think this was exactly the spot where Rorax decided what she was doing was wrong, where she decided that she needed to save Surmalinn. These handprints have been here for fifty years, Ayres, and I have tried countless things to wash or scrub them away. Now I think that Marras blessed them as a reminder. I don’t know what exactly the reminder is for . . . but there must be a reason I can’t wash them away.”
Ayres’s jaw flexed as he stared down at the dark red stain. He covered one with his own hand, and the stone felt warm under his touch.
Jia had called her friend Surmalinn’s Savior. Maybe Marras agreed.
“There’s one more thing I want to show you, and then I’ll explain everything.” Rosalie turned on her heel and led him through the balcony’s double doors and back into the palace, winding through two hallways before she stopped in front of a stone wall. It was completely empty of decoration and paint, just the flat gray stone.
Ayres looked down at her like she had lost her mind, and Rosalie rolled her eyes and pointed to a thin hairline crack in one of the stones.
Her voice was soft as she asked him, “Do you know what happened here?”
Ayres shook his head even as his stomach clenched.
“Yansley, one of Rorax’s men, almost killed me here. He picked me up by my neck and threw me up against the wall.” Rosalie brushed over the crack with the tips of her fingers. “He told me he was going to rape me, beat me, and then kill me.”
Ayres’s vision tunneled for a moment and his jaw locked up. If Yansley wasn’t already dead, Ayres would pluck his soul out of his body and blow it apart before the man could even think about going down the bridge into the afterlife.
“Rorax plunged her knife through his heart before decapitating him.” Rosalie looked up from the small crack to raise an eyebrow at Ayres. “I assume she’s shown you her . . . attachment?”
Ayres huffed a laugh, remembering the spot on his calf where she’d sliced into him the first time they met. “Yes, I know that knife well.”
Rosalie snickered and looked back at the wall one last time before looping her arm through her brother’s and leading him back towards the balcony. “What she did was wrong. She was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of our people . . .”
They stepped back out onto the balcony where they could look out and see most of Surmalinn and all its beauty.
“But without Rorax, Surmalinn would be nothing but a pile of rubble,” she finished, looking up at Ayres while he gazed out on the cityscape. “After learning what the Wolf did to Rorax, I hated Rorax even more just because maybe deep down I didn’t hate her. At least . . . not as much as I did before.”
Ayres didn’t say anything, so Rosalie pushed on. “I can sense that you’re going through the same dilemma. I don’t like Rorax, Ayres. I haven’t seen her since that night, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at her without a reminder of the night we lost Mom and Dad . . . the night that Povelinn was razed to the ground. But if you have feelings for her, or maybe just have conflicted feelings about her, that”s okay. You’re not alone. But I’ve concluded that Rorax needs to have people in her life who love her and help guide her towards what’s right. I trust Rorax, Ayr. In fact, deep down I trust her almost as much as I trust you.”
That comment had Ayres’s head snapping to her in disgust.
Rosalie gave him a little shrug. “I was hiding in the shadows when Rorax killed the Wolf. It happened in the Main Square.” Rosalie pointed out into the city, and Ayres followed her gaze to the giant clock tower that stood above the rest of the city skyline. The original clock tower had fallen the night of the siege, but a new one had since been erected.
“The Wolf was angry that her creation betrayed her. The Wolf called herself Rorax’s mother, told Rorax she had been misled and lied to by others. But in the end Rorax never doubted her choice and never doubted herself.”
Ayres could feel his indecision about Rorax melting away every second they stood there together, looking out into his city. He could feel something new start to take root in his chest. Something that was starting to feel a lot like trust.
“If anyone can choose to do the right thing after that much control and constant indoctrination from their own mother, I would trust them to remain uncorrupted under almost any circumstances. No matter what House of Alloy or Lyondrea throws at her, I believe she will remain a stalwart. I think there’s something divine guiding Rorax’s moral compass, Ayres.” Rosalie looked up at Ayres with a faraway look in her eyes. “She is destined to have some bigger purpose. When I found out Cannon had won the tournament and she’d been chosen as a Contestar, it felt too much like fate for me to ignore it.”
“She is looking for a way to free herself from the Guardian’s magick; she plans to take her own life rather than become the Guardian,” Ayres said.
“Has she been successful in finding anything to free herself yet?”
Ayres shook his head, and Rosalie gave him a sad smile. “Don’t give her any false hope of freedom, Ayres. But give her something to stay and work for.”
“Like what?”
“If you can’t give her anything more, give her friendship. Give Rorax something to fight for, Ayres, and we might just make it out of this war alive.”