Chapter Seven #2
“Aht veskou,” Eleni called down the length of the table, and every head turned her way.
Switching easily from Dhaliaan, she smiled around at each of the court’s guests in turn; Alun, Os, Ceri and Adeline at one end of the table, then a slow and deliberate smile just for Kai.
“I wanted to take just a moment of this fine evening to formally welcome our guests, both to Dhalias and to the Imperial Court. Our Merrow friends have had the longest journey imaginable, and we look forward to seeing them settled. To their new home—and to many years of friendship and cooperation.”
Cooperation?
Something in that one word, the tone of it, snagged at Kai’s slipping attention.
He glanced down the table to Al, who caught his eye with a half-grimace and a swiftly mouthed Later.
He did not like that word; Cooperation. He did not like the look on Al’s face either, nor the briefly loosened knot that was pulling taut across his shoulders once more.
Kai reached for his wineglass and downed the dregs; it was little help.
He poured another cup while the Court exchanged effusive toasts, and drained it again just as Eleni began to wave her hand, settling the crowd to a gentle hum.
“And to Adeline.”
Kai carefully set down his cup. The knot in his shoulders had become a web, every single muscle snagged within it, tensed and poised—for what, he could not say.
“My beloved Adeleni, whose own journey has been nearly as long.”
There were some soft noises of agreement, some smiles from around the table.
Yet Kai knew that if he were to turn in his seat, he would find Adeline sitting still as a hunted deer, those round eyes wide with apprehension.
Perhaps that was why his own muscles were braced; why his lungs stung with withheld breath.
“We have watched you grow from afar—watched as you became the famously kind and endlessly compassionate young woman you are today, despite every odd.”
Adeline flinched.
“We are so proud of you. Welcome home, agameni.”
And with that, Eleni raised her drink high, the crystal-cut glass winking briefly in the candlelight before she tilted her head back, draining her wine to a giddy chorus of “Agameni!”
Taking her seat, the Empress tilted her glass toward Kai, the same edge of triumph in both the gesture and her smile.
Kai tried to smile back, but it was a thin, half-hearted thing.
He didn’t have to look around again to know the well-meaning speech had flown wide of its target.
He just knew. And, when Eleni’s broad smile stuttered, her dark eyes drawing a short path from the table to the balcony, he knew that Adeline had walked out.
???
Kai steeled himself. His hesitation was absurd.
This was Adeline. It was not that long ago that he’d spent every waking moment in her company.
He’d held her close, moved inside her, bared the most vulnerable, human parts of himself to her and to her alone.
He’d spoken those three catastrophic words to her—said them more than once, even when she hadn’t said them back.
He could do this; he could force out this single word.
Even with his tongue heavy with wine and his heart thundering with restless adrenaline that did little to clear the fog.
Just say it.
“Hello.”
His voice came out on a forceful breath, louder than he’d meant, and Adeline jolted, whipping around from the balcony railing to face him.
She stood in the glow of a string of bronze lanterns hung from one limestone pillar to another, their dappled light drifting like spectral butterflies over her wide eyes and flushed cheeks.
An old and buried instinct rose inside him, the sudden, acute need to look away, to train his sight on something safe and bland, because damn it if she didn’t overwhelm him even now.
Did she have to be quite so beautiful?
“Kai,” she said, breathless.
And that was all he needed. Courage surged through him, rushing alongside the wine in his veins, and he stepped out from the dining hall to cross the small balcony.
Adeline was not wary exactly, but she gazed up at him with a guarded sort of expectation as he joined her at the stone railing, just a little less than an arm’s length between them.
He didn’t say a word. He knew what it was to grieve, knew how it felt to be needled and nagged and forced to offer up your mess of waterlogged feelings when what you truly needed was to sink into them.
He wasn’t going to force her to talk to him, he just—
He wanted to be here. Be with her. He thought, by the softening of her brow and the curve of her lips, that perhaps this was what she wanted, too. For now, at least.
And so they stood for a time, gazing out over the Imperial City and the dark and shimmering seas beyond.
The breeze was barely noticeable but for the gentle sway of the feathery trees towering overhead.
The evening smelled of fading heat and the delicate pink flowers that wove thick through the balustrades.
It was a peaceful, perfect moment of stillness, and Kai knew he would have stood there all night, basking in Adeline’s presence as much as the warmth of the ocean air.
When she spoke, however, it sent a cool wash of relief surging through him.
“I wanted to live here when I was little.”
“You did?”
She smiled at the lift to his voice, and Kai heard his own surprise.
Growing up, he had spent his summers beneath the Laune and his winters on the banks, where the Merrow would set up camps beneath the stars with sheepshide tents and a long-burning fire.
He had never known a home other than Eisalaan, and it had technically been his home for over six hundred years.
And yet, somehow, he felt their shared homeland meant more to Adeline than it did to himself, or indeed anyone he’d ever met.
She loved Eisalaan. It had taken her attempted murder and the pleas of nearly everyone she cared for to convince her to leave.
“I begged my father to let me stay, and when he refused, I stole some bread rolls and berries from the kitchen and tried to hide out in a cave on the beach.”
“Tried?”
“I ran out of bread after a few hours, and a porter caught me sneaking off with another basket of rolls. My aunt and my father were not amused. I still remember them barging in, all sweaty and panicked from the search party. They found me sitting on the floor eating honey baked peaches while a very sweet kitchen maid braided my hair.”
Kai allowed himself a soft laugh. “Adeline Beira, wreaking mayhem no matter the setting.”
Adeline sent him a sideways glance, just a hint of that familiar gleam lighting her eyes.
“Usually the good kind of mayhem, though.”
Kai did not shy from her attention, but a flicker of ghostly heat rose to his cheeks all the same, as though his body had developed a learned response to that playful tone of hers.
He cleared his throat, tearing himself away from the warmth of her eyes, their mesmerising glow beneath the bronzed lantern light.
“Often the best kind,” he said.
His voice still held a hoarse edge, and he cursed himself for it, even as he felt the brush of her gaze over his face like a warm touch. But then she turned swiftly back to the view and said, “It’s just how I remember.”
“Dhalias?”
“Dhalias, the Imperial City, the flowers, the sea. Everything.” She glanced down at her hands, where they curled over the railing. “Everyone.”
Eleni, Kai thought. He nodded, but didn’t press. Just stared out at the shimmer of the moonlight on the water and waited until, sure enough, Adeline pushed past the hesitant beat of silence.
“They had a falling out, my family, here, with my father. I don’t—I don’t know a lot of the details, he doesn’t like to talk about it.
” She frowned. “It’s hard for him, I think.
But from what I gather, he was never supposed to stay in Eisalaan.
He was an emissary for the Dhaliaan Empire sent to discuss a trade deal with the Cold Council.
But then he fell in love with my mother and—”
At the mention of the late queen, Adeline’s voice cracked and Kai’s resolve along with it.
He turned to her fully, watching her in profile, and Mother save him, he wanted so damned badly to reach for her.
Wanted to smooth the crease of her brow, and kiss her soft crown of curls, and fold her into his arms until her stilted breath matched the steady hush of the distant waves.
Wanted it so badly it called an insistent throb to his chest. It sent resounding pain through his every limb when they didn’t immediately give in to his instinct to step forward, to reach out.
Space, he reminded himself, his inner voice somehow gritting its teeth. She wanted space.
So he stood there, gripping tight to the railing with one hand, his knuckles nearly creaking with the force of his own restraint.
“Sorry,” she whispered, still staring down at her own hands. She lifted one absently to her lips, catching at a sliver of skin between her teeth until it tore, and at her slight wince, Kai had wrapped his hand around her wrist before he could stop himself.
“Don’t.”
Adeline stiffened, eyes rounding as she slowly stared up at him. She didn’t pull out of his grasp. Kai’s voice was rough to his own ears, and he tried to soften it, to lower it as he smoothed a thumb over the delicate veins of her wrist.
“You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Her answering smile was weak.
“You sound just like Marry.”
And with no further warning, her beautiful face crumpled.
A heaving sob tore through her, and when her free hand flew to her mouth to contain it, Kai could stand it no longer.
He tugged her to him by the wrist he still held, and she came willingly, perhaps gratefully, collapsing against his chest and clinging to him with both hands flat against his back.
“I know,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”