Chapter 59
Emmeric
Emmeric was starting to worry. Not that he hadn’t been worried about her before, but after Iyana had spent a week in bed within Yrza’s palace, only moving to use the bathing room, he was beginning to think she would never recover.
Vacillating between panic and fury was tiresome, but they seemed to be the only two emotions Emmeric could conjure.
When she wouldn’t respond to his gentle coaxing, or only ate a small amount of soup he practically poured down her throat, or slept all day, Emmeric would panic.
But then he’d remember that she had run off without him on a mission to offer herself to Rigil, without him, and the furious rage would return.
He wanted to rant and yell at her when he felt this way, to ask how she could possibly think any of that had been a good idea.
Not wanting to make a bad situation even worse, he restrained himself, but there were times he could feel the words bubbling beneath the surface, begging to be set free.
King Saram and Queen Nita constantly asked after them, but he’d been ignoring their summons.
Kaz had been holding them off the best she could.
He really didn’t care if they took any sort of offense to their behavior or perceived snub.
Emmeric hadn’t left their room since they first entered it, instead taking care of Iyana and watching over her.
He couldn’t let her out of his sight now, and even sleeping had become difficult.
Em would wake every hour to check that she was still there.
Iyana allowed him to sleep curled around her.
Her nightmares had returned full-force, and his proximity was the only thing that would allow her to sleep soundly.
However, during the day, when she was awake, Emmeric had the distinct feeling that she didn’t want him to touch her at all.
It hurt, keeping his distance while she stared blankly at the wall.
The other three would come visit periodically and try to speak with her, but it was always the same. Iyana refused to acknowledge anybody.
There was a light knock on the door, and then Talon let himself and Zane in. Emmeric couldn’t even be mad about the lack of privacy; it wasn’t like they were about to walk in on anything.
“Any change?” Talon asked quietly, glancing over the bundle of blankets on the bed that was Iyana. Emmeric didn’t understand how she wasn’t overheating—the heat and humidity of Nyr was oppressive.
Emmeric shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, keeping his voice hushed. This was how they talked around her now, and he hated it. “I got her to eat some bread this morning, though, so that’s good.”
“Sekhan and even Zahar have been asking after her,” Tal continued. Emmeric bristled at the monarchs’ insistence on seeing Iyana. “Only to see how she’s doing, old man. Calm down. Kekari wanted to come see you, too, but I told them that wasn’t the best idea right now.”
“Thank you,” Emmeric said, meaning it. Kaz’s younger sibling obviously had a crush on him, and he couldn’t field fending off an eighteen-year-old’s puppy love while also dealing with Iyana’s mess.
Zane took a deep breath, and Emmeric knew he wasn’t going to like what the emperor had to say. “The king and queen, though, are becoming more insistent. They want to speak with the Aztia.”
“Well, they’ll have to fucking wait,” Emmeric snapped.
“I know,” said Zane, running a hand through his hair, a habit he’d picked up from Talon. “I’ve been to see them myself a few times, which has helped, but there’s only so much Kaz and I can do before they decide to march over here and take matters into their own hands.”
Emmeric saw the stress lying just beneath Zane’s surface and sighed. “I’m sorry. I know you’re doing everything you can, and you two have been through a lot yourselves. Snapping at you isn’t fair.”
Talon scoffed and waved his hand in dismissal. “What are a few days in the dungeons after you’ve been tortured by your father, or died and brought back to life?”
Zane frowned up at Tal as if to say, Really?
Glancing back at Iyana, Emmeric came to a decision.
If it were up to him, he’d allow her all the time in the world to grieve and heal at her own pace.
He understood that grief was a fickle thing, especially when the person involved evoked so many complicated emotions.
Emmeric didn’t begrudge Iyana her sadness; he wasn’t angry with her for being upset that her former lover had died.
At the end of the day, he loved her—all of her—and he wanted her to be happy.
Whatever she needed to do to get back there was fine with him.
But they had a job to do. A destiny bigger than themselves to fulfill. So, unfortunately, she needed to pull herself together earlier than either of them would like.
“I’ll talk to her,” Emmeric murmured, not looking away. He heard footsteps and the door closing as Talon and Zane left him to his task.
He padded over to the bed and sat on the edge, then yanked back the blankets so he could see Iyana’s face. Smoothing her hair back, Emmeric noticed she had lost some weight and the bones in her face were more prominent.
“Hey, Mouse,” he said sadly. Iyana didn’t move, only continued to stare at the wall opposite the bed. “Iyana…please look at me.” Nothing. Not even a blink. Emmeric sighed. He’d try a different way, then.
Mouse, I need you to listen to me.
Without moving, Iyana put up her fire wall, blocking him out entirely. And now Emmeric was more than angry; he was pissed. He surged to his feet and frowned down at this shell of a human.
“Do not fucking block me out, Iyana. I’m here to help you.
” Still no reaction. “Godsdammit, Iyana! I am trying to allow you a certain amount of grace here, and I’d love to give you the space to grieve how you need to, but the fate of the fucking world still rests in our hands, and we need you. We can’t do this without you.”
Finally, Iyana blinked and lazily rolled until she was staring at him. She didn’t say anything, but Emmeric knew she was listening.
“I understand, Mouse,” he said, more gently. “I do. You feel like you’re drowning right now and don’t know how to break the surface. Please let me help you. I hate seeing you this way.”
Iyana dropped her walls, allowing him back in, and Emmeric exhaled a relieved breath.
He almost died when she reached out a hand for him and he had to shake his head.
Iyana frowned, dropping her hand back onto the bed.
He realized how it looked—he had just asked her to let him in, to let him help her, and now he was refusing to touch her.
“I need you to hear this, Mouse. I want to help you get through this, but I need you to know that I am fucking furious with you right now, too.”
Her dulled, caramel-colored eyes widened.
“You left me”—Emmeric’s voice broke—“with every intention of giving yourself over to the enemy. Tell me, Iyana, did you even consider what that would do to me?” She opened her mouth, but he cut her off.
“When you were in the dungeons before with Uther and Azazel, I went crazy. I was still trying to deny what you meant to me, and it was already apparent that you wanted Altair, but it killed me to see you in there like that. Now? After you’ve given yourself to me, I would have torn down those walls to get you back.
And, realistically, I would have died in the process.
But I fucking love you, Mouse, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. ”
Iyana
Her jaw dropped open. Did he just—
Emmeric ran his hand through his hair and couldn’t meet her eye.
“I’ve loved you for a long time, Mouse. I didn’t want to say anything when I didn’t know if we’d ever be together, and then I could still sense your hesitation when we were starting things, so I didn’t want to rush you.
” He was rambling; it was adorable. “I’ve been waiting for the right time to say it, and now probably isn’t that time because I’m still so angry with you”—his blue eyes finally met hers as she felt a flash of his anger—“but there it is.”
Iyana had sensed his anger, of course, but she hadn’t realized it was directed at her.
She also hadn’t had the capacity to deal with his emotions on top of her own.
Typically, she would have discovered what had been causing the anger and done anything she could to rectify it, but her brain and her heart were having difficulty functioning.
She felt absolutely terrible that she had been causing him this amount of distress, and he had every right to be angry with her over her actions.
There was a small amount of relief, though, when she recognized his anger was not because she was mourning Altair.
No, he was actively encouraging her to grieve how she needed to, and if it were up to him, he wouldn’t have interrupted this stasis she was stuck in.
But he was right; they had a job to do. So Iyana would pull herself together and do what was necessary.
Besides, Emmeric had told her he loved her, which kick-started her heart again, and he had been standing there patiently while she sorted through everything he’d just said.
This was the fantastic thing about Emmeric—he never pushed her for anything.
He always allowed her to go at her own pace, and he never once demanded anything from her.
Iyana knew that he wasn’t expecting her to say it back to him, which was a relief because she wasn’t sure she could yet.
Not after Altair had messed with her mind so much.
Iyana forced herself to sit up in the bed and she held her hand out for him again. “I’m sorry, Em,” she said, her voice raspy from disuse. “I’m so sorry.”