CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
VESPER
The healers gave Kyrith a sedative which left her buried in sleep, but accelerated her healing.
As she rested, Vesper sat at her bedside,and waited for her to wake, or rather refused to leave.
An ember of betrayal simmered in his chest. Her scars flashed behind his closed eyes and he gritted his teeth.
He had no right to be angry. In fact, he deserved it since he’d kept his identity secret, and yet, his heart bloody hurt.
He didn’t understand why she hadn't told him, and he should have caught on from her expertise toward Shadowhearts.
He really was a moron, for so many reasons.
But as a sort of fucked up silver lining, he had found another of the six as part of the prophecy.
Zyphira was right. He did need to find her. He just didn’t know what to do with that information now.
Vesper watched Kyrith’s bandaged chest rise and fall, and her breath occasionally snagged.
Each time it sent a twinge of pain through his own chest, like the dagger had cut into him instead.
He timed each of his breaths with hers. It was stupid and didn’t make any sense, but he couldn’t help himself.
Thorrin offered to take over while Vesper searched for Nef, but he found no trace of her, though her belongings remained in her cabin. Maybe she’d gone off with Gaelen somewhere. Shortly after, he’d returned to Kyrith’s bedside, not able to keep away.
For two days, he dozed on and off, his forehead pressed into the corner of her bed. Each time he woke to a nasty crick in his neck.
Once, he dreamed of fingers tangled in his hair, a touch he would give his left nut to wake up to every morning. When he opened his eyes, his heart kicked into a sprint as he met her gaze, bruised, a little swollen, yet her feisty spark remained.
“Why are you on the floor?” she croaked, her voice void of her singsong quality.
He folded his arms on the quilt and rested his chin atop them. “Someone was hogging the bed. And there’s only so long I can sit in one of those chairs without my ass falling asleep.” He nodded at the wooden seat behind him.
A tiny laugh squeaked from her and she winced, clutching her chest. When he sat up, her lips parted, and he couldn’t get fucking air into his lungs. Maybe due to all the questions that invaded his mind, or the hurt, or—
Maybe something else entirely.
A foreign emotion invaded her usual hard exterior. “You didn’t need to stay,” she said softly.
“You told me not to leave you, remember? And I believe some profanity was sprinkled in there.” He dragged his hand down his face, only to find a crease in his forehead from the bed frame.
Wonderful. While he wanted to scream at her for jerking him around and demand answers, instead he asked, “How do you feel?”
This trust between them, fragile like his ego, could shatter at her command. And yet, he didn’t know what he would do without her scrutiny.
“I’m fine,” she muttered. It was less than convincing. Her attention warred between his lips, his eyes, and the beige quilt as her hair hid her face like a curtain. “I should explain.”
His stomach twisted into knots, but he only nodded.
She gripped the blankets. “I should have told you.”
“No fucking kidding,” he murmured.
She swallowed hard and continued, “At first I didn’t know if I could trust you.
You were asking for me all over town and it scared the shit out of me.
There’s a lot you don’t know. And then, I was going to tell you, but too much time had passed and—” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“Ugh, you know what it’s like. To be like … this.”
Not trusting himself to speak, Vesper lifted a single brow.
Her statement rang clear: to be an outcast, different, and to be judged and feared from a single glance.
Yeah, he fucking knew. It was his whole bloody life story.
She speared her hands through her hair and said, “The way you waltzed in here and had people fawning over you, fuck—it pissed me off. I’ve spent my entire life hiding my magic.
My scars. Trying to find my place in this world and people who would accept me…
” She sighed. “Thorrin is the only one who knows. I’ve kept it hidden from everyone else. Aside from you now.”
“But if anyone would understand, it would be me.” He blinked at her. “Why did you keep it from me? Come on, Kyrith. You knew I was here because of the prophecy and I was struggling with my Shadowheart—”
“Don’t act like I turned you away. I did help you with Kaida, and Thorrin did with your burden of mimicry and—” She averted her eyes. “I don’t want anything to do with this stupid prophecy.”
Vesper grit his teeth. “Well that’s pretty fucking selfish of you.”
“You had better be kidding.” Her gaze snapped back to him. “So I’m selfish because I don’t want to cause the end of the world? Either the fever will end or the existence of our kind and we have no clue which one. Maybe the gods will flip a coin on the day.”
Suddenly, his blood ran too hot, too angry and he seethed, “How will we know if we don’t even try?
I want a future. I don’t want to wake up each day and watch people suffer, watch family lines die off.
And I know that you feel strongly about the Hollows and the injustices here.
It’s the same in Ellynne. I refuse to go back there and be a bystander.
This is so much more than us, I know it is—but it begins with us. ”
She was quiet for a long moment before she said, “Yeah, well, I don’t need this prophecy. I don’t need the trouble or the—”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I need you?”
Vesper’s heavy words devoured the air between them. He was such a fucking idiot, so godsdamn pathetic, but he spoke the truth.
Kyrith stared at him for a long time, like she reached inside him and stole something from his soul. But her eyes grew glossy and she sighed like the world was ending. “My magic isn’t what you think.”
“Worse than throwing corpses around like puppets?” He sat back on his hands. At least the wound on his ribs didn’t twinge.
She steepled her fingers. “You don’t understand what I can do.”
“Well, no, because you haven’t bloody told me. Other than than your ability to charm knives. So, if you could get on with it, it would be appreciated.”
“Don’t be an ass.”
He sucked a cleansing breath and lifted his hands, palms out, to calm himself. “Alright, alright. Tell me of your oh so magical ways that I couldn’t possibly understand. Go on. Really, wow me.”
Kyrith’s glare could melt a fucking glacier.
“Please,” he added sweetly and shot her a grin. “And be sure to dumb it down so my tiny brain can comprehend it.”
She muttered something that sounded nasty before she said, “My sword—I enchanted it too.” She sank her teeth into her lush bottom lip. “It can detect intentions. If people are good or truthful. How pure their heart is.”
Not seeing how any of this was a big deal, he raised a brow at her.
“I can charm almost anything. I only need to scribble some Sellidic and give the appropriate amount of blood and a heap of magic.” She finally looked back at him. “I’ve been asked for some heinous things. And I—I did them. Some were worse than others but … I was desperate for slate.”
Silence spread between them as she averted her eyes and Vesper broke it. “We’ve all done bad things. It doesn’t mean we’re bad people.”
“Oh yeah?” Guilt swam in her eyes as she clenched her jaw. “What if I said I enchanted that fucking grave plot?”
It was like the floor gave out beneath him and doused him in frigid waters. Dumbfounded, Vesper studied her, because he thought the Gravers had done that, not any Kenna. That magic was wrong and impossibly strong.
“It was a long time ago, and I didn’t know what it was for, but I charmed it to reach for life.” She wrapped a hand around her throat. “All those people, all those lives and the torture they went through—” Her voice hitched, broke, and shattered something inside him too.
Vesper reached for her, but she shrank away. “You didn’t know. And like you said it was a long time ago, right? You wouldn’t do that now.”
She gave a shallow nod of her head and fiddled with her quilt. “If you tell anyone, I’ll make good on my promise and cut off all your fun parts.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. And at least you’re acknowledging that they are in fact fun.
” He tried a smile, but she wouldn't look at him. “Are you going to tell me what your Hollow magic is? I’m waiting on bated breath here.” He asked gently, afraid he already knew the reason for her secrecy.
If she had the blessing of charm, the magic that would pair with it was the most feared Hollow magic of all next to the burden of mind.
It was the reason historically so many Hollows were sometimes denied passage to the spring, or if allowed, forced into specific allegiance oaths to be used as the deadliest of weapons.
“You’re really going to pry it out of me, huh?” She rubbed her eyes like she was exhausted. “I don’t want to say it.”
Vesper cleared his throat. “Did you know you had the burden of chaos song before you passed your trial?”
“I only knew of the charm. The song was a lovely surprise.”
“My Hollow magic was too,” he muttered.
“I should clarify that I don’t use the magic. I’m very intentional about not using it. When I was young … I did. But it feels wrong.”
“If you don’t even use it, what's the big deal?”
Kyrith braced her hand against her ribs and squeezed her eyes shut. “What if it means I’m like her?” The admission bloated with pain.
Vesper perched himself beside her on the bed and hesitantly took her hand. To his surprise, she didn’t pull away. “You are nothing like Serafelle. Shared magic doesn’t say a single thing about your character or your heart.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” She stared at their joined hands. “Morana graced her town with her wind and used her mimicry for good. She was a saviour.”
“I hate to say it, but you’re being absurdly dramatic.
” Before she could snap a reply, he said, “Look at what you’ve done here.
It’s something I dreamed I could achieve one day, and you’ve already made it happen.
” He leaned in, his voice low. “You can be, and already are, so much more than you know.”
She pulled her hand away. He wanted to know her thoughts, but she was so bloody hard to read.
“What if the bad in me devours the good?” she asked, voice low.
He shook his head. “Impossible.” It was the answer he needed all those months ago too. “And if you need someone to not just listen, but to hear you and understand, I’m here.”
Kyrith shifted on the bed and patted the spot beside her. He’d be a fool to say no, so he propped his back against the wall. She laid her head on a mound of pillows.
“So what’s it like being a prince?” she asked, batting her lashes at him.
His stomach sank. “How long have you known?”
“Since we met.” She examined her fingernails. “Your reputation precedes you, Vesper Merikh of Ellynne. But I can sleep soundly knowing that we’re even. We both lied.” She propped her head on her fist. “You really didn’t think I knew who you were?”
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Guess I should have.”
“May I ask why you didn’t tell me?”
“You’re going to say it’s moronic.” His head fell back against the wall with a thunk. “I guess I wanted you to like me for … me.”
She smiled then, and it was so breathtaking he smiled with her. “Jokes on you. You kept it from me, and I still don’t like you.”
“Ha—now who’s lying.”
She hummed a sultry exquisite sound and settled back against the pillow. His blood rushed as the air shifted, and his skin, his veins, the fucking room was all too hot. It made him pull away but long to sink into her.
“Your month is almost up,” she said somberly.
Vesper nodded. “I leave in two days.” He shifted to stand. “I’ll let you get some rest.”
She caught his wrist. “Wait.” Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. “Since you’re leaving can I—there’s something I want to do first.”