Chapter 9
New Arrival
N esilhan
The morning light filters through the cottage windows as I sort through dried herbs, my hands moving with ease despite the chaos still swirling through my mind.
Three days have passed since Kaan appeared, and I haven't slept properly since.
Every time I close my eyes, I see those dark flames in his gaze, hear the raw pain in his voice when he speaks my name.
Nesilhan.
Even thinking it sends shivers through me, awakening something deep and restless that I can't name or understand. The name feels heavy on my tongue when I whisper it in the darkness of my room, like a key that might unlock doors I'm not sure I want opened.
"You're distracted again," Banu observes from her perch near the window, where she's been pretending to grind chamomile for the past hour. Her delicate features carry an expression of concern that seems disproportionate for someone I've known less than a week.
There's something about her that pulls at me constantly—a familiarity that goes bone-deep despite our brief acquaintance.
When she looks at me, I see affection and protectiveness that speaks of years of friendship, not days.
It should unsettle me, but instead, it feels like coming home to something I didn't know I'd lost.
"Banu," I say suddenly, setting down my mortar and pestle. "Tell me about yourself. Really tell me, not just the bits and pieces you've been dropping like breadcrumbs."
She goes very still, her pale lavender eyes taking on that careful wariness I've learned to recognize. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything. Where you come from, how you learned magic, why you're here helping a woman who can't even remember her own name." I turn to face her fully. "And don't give me some vague answer about wandering fae and coincidence. I may not remember my past, but I'm not stupid."
A slow smile spreads across her face—not the bright, deflecting one she usually wears, but something smaller and more genuine. "You always were too clever for your own good."
The words slip out before she can catch them, and we both freeze.
"Always?" I whisper.
She closes her eyes briefly, silver-blonde hair shifting color slightly toward a more muted gray. When she opens them again, there's resignation there alongside the affection.
"We've known each other for years, Elif. Nesilhan. Whatever name you want to use." She hops down from her perch, moving to sit across from me. "Since you were barely more than a child, actually."
My heart starts beating faster. "How? Where?"
"You were training to be…let’s call it a problem-solver for important people.
" Banu's voice takes on that musical quality it gets when she's being deliberately vague.
"Very exclusive training. The kind where they don't just teach you to fight, but how to think, how to move through shadows, how to kill without being seen. "
The words should shock me, but they don't. They settle into place like puzzle pieces I've been searching for.
"An assassin," I say quietly.
"Among other things. You were brilliant at it, too, which honestly was both impressive and terrifying to watch.
" She grins, and for a moment, the weight in her eyes lifts.
"You had this way of analyzing people, figuring out exactly what they feared most, what they wanted most. Made you very, very dangerous. "
"And you were there…how?”
"Oh, I was definitely not supposed to be there.
" Her grin turns mischievous. "I'd been living rough for a while—family troubles, you could say—and I heard about this academy where they trained the most elite warriors.
Thought maybe I could steal something valuable, maybe some magical artifacts or rare books. "
I find myself leaning forward despite everything. "What happened?"
"I posed as a pet merchant. Came to the gates with a cart full of exotic birds and small creatures, claiming I had a special order for one of the instructors.
" She laughs, the sound bright and musical.
"Spent weeks casing the place, learning the routines, figuring out where they kept the good stuff. "
"But you got caught."
"By you." Her pale eyes meet mine, and there's such warmth there it takes my breath away.
"I was in the archives, trying to steal a particularly interesting book about ancient fae magic, when you walked in.
Just stood there in the doorway, watching me stuff this enormous tome down the front of my dress. "
Despite everything—the confusion, the fear, the weight of mysteries I can't solve—I laugh. "What did you do?"
"Panicked, obviously. Started babbling about how I was just looking for the privy and must have taken a wrong turn.
You know, while still clearly stealing a book.
" She shakes her head, silver hair shimmering.
"You just looked at me for the longest time, then walked over and helped me get the book positioned so it wouldn't fall out while I was escaping. "
"I helped you steal it?"
"You said—and I remember this exactly—'If you're going to steal something that valuable, at least don't be obvious about it.
'" Banu's voice goes soft with memory. "Then you told me about a window on the third floor that was always left unlocked, and suggested I might want to use it instead of wandering the halls like a lost tourist."
Warmth spreads through my chest, unfamiliar but welcome. "That does sound like something I might do."
"You were…lonely, I think. All that training, all those lessons in being a perfect weapon, but no one to just talk to.
No one who saw you as anything other than a tool being sharpened.
" She reaches out hesitantly, then pulls her hand back.
"So I started coming back. Not to steal—well, not just to steal—but to see you. "
"How?"
"Oh, I'm very good at not being seen when I don't want to be.
Comes with the whole fae thing." She waves a hand airily.
"I'd sneak in through your window, bring interesting books or unusual herbs, terrible jokes to make you laugh.
You'd tell me about your training, about the politics between different factions, about dreams you had that you couldn't quite remember. "
The picture she's painting feels right in ways I can't explain. "We became friends."
"Best friends. Partners in crime. You covered for me when the instructors got suspicious about missing items, and I..." She hesitates, something flickering across her features.
"And you what?"
"I kept you human," she says quietly. "All that training, all those lessons in emotional detachment and strategic thinking—it was turning you into something cold.
Beautiful and deadly and absolutely terrifying, but cold.
I reminded you how to laugh, how to be silly, how to care about things that didn't involve missions or politics or death. "
Tears prick at my eyes without warning. "You saved me."
"We saved each other." She finally reaches out, taking my hand in both of hers. Her palms are warm and slightly calloused from years of magic work. "You gave me a family when I'd lost everything. I gave you a reason to stay human when the world was trying to make you into a weapon."
"What happened to your family?" I ask gently.
Her expression goes carefully neutral, but I catch the flash of old pain before she can hide it. "War. Politics. The usual stupid reasons people kill each other over." She shrugs, but it's too casual to be real. "Ancient history now."
Before I can push further, the sound of approaching footsteps draws our attention. Sinan appears in the doorway, his storm-gray eyes immediately taking in our joined hands and tear-streaked faces.
"Is everything alright?" he asks, genuine concern in his voice.
"Fine," I say, wiping my eyes with my free hand. "Just…remembering things."
He nods, but there's something tense about the way he holds himself. "Actually, I was hoping to speak with you. About the other night."
Banu's hand tightens almost imperceptibly on mine. "Oh, this should be good," she mutters under her breath.
Sinan either doesn't hear her or chooses to ignore the comment. "Elif, I know you're confused about what happened with…him, but I need you to understand how dangerous he is."
"His name is Kaan," I say quietly.
"I know what his name is." Sinan's jaw tightens. "I also know what he's capable of. The things he's done, the people he's hurt. You may feel some connection to him because of your lost memories, but that doesn't change the facts."
I feel Banu go very still beside me, like a cat about to pounce.
"And what facts are those?" I ask.
"He's killed innocents. Burned entire villages. His power is dark, corrupted—" Sinan starts, but Banu cuts him off with a laugh.
"Oh, you sweet, naive little lamb," she says, releasing my hand and rising to her feet. Despite her tiny stature, there's something almost menacing about the way she moves. "You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, do you?"
Sinan's eyes narrow. "I know enough."
"Do you?" She tilts her head, silver hair catching the light. "Do you know about the prophecy? About the binding? About what happens when you try to separate two souls that have been woven together by forces older than your precious Light Court?"
"Banu," I say sharply, alarmed by the sudden shift in her demeanor.
But she's not listening. Her pale lavender eyes are locked on Sinan with assessing focus.
"You think you can just waltz in here, play the concerned protector, and somehow compete with a connection that spans lifetimes?
You think your pretty face and gentle words are going to override something written in the very fabric of fate itself? "
Sinan steps forward, his own power beginning to shimmer around him like heat waves. "I think I can offer her a choice that doesn't involve darkness and destruction."