Chapter Twenty-Five
A layer of hurt percolated beneath Rowena’s anger.
It wasn’t as if she was ready to be a mother either.
In fact, she’d made a mistake in indulging in reckless sex.
Really, she had no excuse apart from being caught up in the moment, high on the unfamiliar rush of physical attraction.
Probably there had been some adrenaline from succeeding at long last and liberating Golgerra.
But even if she’d made a mistake, it would be nice if Slay hadn’t made her feel like a big mistake too.
She didn’t even have anywhere to go, but she couldn’t stay either.
But before she could do more than swipe away the angry tears, Slay burst into the hall behind her, still tying the drawstring on his pants.
He was shirtless and frantic, bare feet slapping the floor as he dashed toward her.
Slay reached out, then hesitated as if he wasn’t sure she’d welcome his touch.
“I screwed that up,” he said quickly. “And I’m sorry.
I was surprised, not upset at the idea of you having my baby.
Among the Animari, a child never just happens .
Both parents agree and they choose to start a family together.
Accidental births aren’t a thing for us, and I don’t know much about how that works with the Eldritch or Golgoth. I’m sorry for hurting you. I—”
“You said you’re bad with words,” she said softly. “But you explained everything really well just now.”
“Do you forgive me?”
“Of course. I…might have overreacted,” she admitted.
“No, I was thoughtless and I hurt you. Hell, I’d be pissed if you implied I wasn’t good enough to be your baby daddy.”
Ro blinked. Did that mean he was thinking along those lines? She couldn’t bring herself to ask, though, not with so much still going on.
“Come to bed. We should sleep before all the excitement tomorrow, and we were basically done setting up for the debate.”
Ro stared at her bare toes, a touch embarrassed that she’d rushed off without getting dressed properly. When he reached for her hand, she laced their fingers together, fetched the rest of their clothes from the prop room, and let him lead her to the room they were sharing.
It seemed strange and surreal to snuggle into Slay’s arms like this was a permanent arrangement.
They’d come together under the worst possible circumstances but now that they weren’t trapped in a tiny room with ten other prisoners, he still wanted to curl up with her at the end of the day.
She didn’t know what to make of that, but the emotional spike left her drained, so before she could fret about it much, she fell asleep in Slay’s arms.
She woke with him still wrapped around her, his face pressed into her hair.
That seemed uncomfortable to her, but he was twined around her like he intended to stay.
For a few moments, she reveled in the sense of being sheltered.
Her mother had tried to shield her when she was small, but swiftly their circumstances flipped, leaving Rowena to defend her fragile, damaged mother.
In the end, she’d failed and wound up alone, despite her best efforts.
Ro had learned at a young age that even one’s best sometimes wasn’t enough.
Opting to let him sleep a little longer, she disentangled from his arms, but she froze when he stirred and felt around the bed. “Ro…” The reflexive mumble twisted her heartstrings because he wasn’t even awake, searching for her in his sleep.
I love him. I love him so much.
The feeling had been growing inside her, silent as a mushroom in the dark, but now it blossomed into undeniable truth, demanding her acknowledgment. She stared down at Slay, biting her lip.
What am I supposed to do about this? Her mind spun with questions that she couldn’t find answers to—like where they’d live, assuming he wanted to, or if he would even be willing to build a life with someone like her.
Even in Golgerra the whispers followed her, speculation about her being of mixed race and once Tycho’s pet.
It would be better if Ro left the city entirely and started fresh, someplace where nobody knew her. Only then did she imagine she could have peace.
But first she had to keep the promise she’d made to Chantisse. Until the first election concluded successfully, she wouldn’t budge from Golgerra, and when she left, it would be as a free woman, beholden to no one.
Quickly, she showered and found something to wear in the surplus storage closet. She’d never owned much, but in her time in Alastor’s service, she had accrued a few things. What happened to them, I wonder?
She emerged from the former guard housing annex and headed for Vega Rising.
How strange, the twists and turns life could take.
The piazza was already bustling, vendors set up to capitalize on the increased activity related to the coming election.
With wide eyes, she took in the various posters and banners that had already been hung, entreating votes for Chantisse and Sy Loudens in turn.
The debate would be held later today, and she hurried to the theatre to double check the facilities. When everything looked right, she stretched and popped her neck, realizing belatedly that she didn’t know when she’d last eaten.
She met Prince— no, he told us not to call him that —met Alastor on the way to the dining hall that had been converted from a formal room to a cafeteria where those from the undercity could get their meals.
Alastor looked well, all things considered, if a trifle tired.
Ro smiled as he strolled toward her with his customary loose-limbed grace.
“Have you been avoiding me?” he asked.
“Not at all. We’re just on different tracks now.”
Alastor cocked his head with a wry smile. “You’re never coming back, are you?”
“The war is over and you disbanded the Exiles. I doubt Sheyla would enjoy it if forty strangers followed you around for the rest of your lives.”
“Strangers?” Alastor drew in a sharp breath, hurt flashing briefly in his expression, then he covered it with the usual aplomb. “Rowena…”
She wasn’t in the mood to hear regrets or apologies, so she held up a hand. “Friends then. If not now, then someday. I didn’t feel entirely comfortable with you before because there was such inequity between us. I’m sure you noticed that I idolized you a lot.”
“There were stars in your eyes when you looked at me before,” he said with a quiet laugh, sobering as he surveyed her. “Now that I really examine you, they’re not present anymore. Did you get over me?”
Rowena blinked. “…what?”
“Weren’t you in love with me at one point?” he asked bluntly.
It was Ro’s turn to laugh. “You certainly have a healthy opinion of yourself. I admired you and I appreciated everything you did for me, but it would be impossible for me to love the brother of my greatest enemy. I’m sorry if that’s painful to hear, but you did ask.”
Alastor pressed a hand to his heart and staggered back a few steps. “You’ve changed. Before, you never would’ve been so candid even if I pleaded for such frankness.”
“That’s the nature of the world,” she said lightly. “Things change. So do people. We adapt to new circumstances or risk getting left behind.”
Slay brooded all through the debates.
Although Rowena did an amazing job as the moderator, he couldn’t focus on the answers each candidate gave.
Even in his distracted state, however, it was clear that Chantisse was destroying her opponent.
Her proposals were pages long and the resistance leader could talk all day about her ideas. Most of them were fucking brilliant.
But all Slay could hear was Alastor asking Rowena if she used to be in love with him. What the fuck is that about? He has a wife, right? Does he think he’s keeping Ro at his side too?
He’d really wanted to punch the former prince, and it galled him to wheel away instead.
Slay had run laps around the city, trying to figure out why that exchange bothered him so much.
And honestly, he still had no idea. Because Ro had laughed in Alastor’s face; she didn’t even seem to be carrying that hero worship anymore.
Maybe…it’s because I want to be the only one who puts stars in her eyes?
Yeah, that’s definitely it.
It was irrational to be jealous over stuff that was done and couldn’t be changed, but here he was, being an irrational shit, just like always.
I really need to stop. With Ro, I have to do better.
Before he knew it, the debate was over. Chantisse did a meet and greet afterward, shaking hands and answering questions from all citizens.
Events unspooled fast after that.
Slay helped as a volunteer at a voting station when election day dawned.
Things had been a bit odd between Ro and him, as if they both knew they were marking time until everything was decided in Golgerra.
He tried to act like nothing was bothering him, but he wasn’t sure how good a job he was doing.
Mostly he felt…superfluous. He could’ve left Golgerra at any point, but he wanted Ro to go with him and he knew damn well she wouldn’t leave with shit unresolved.
Alongside the other volunteers, he counted ballots until late in the night. And shortly before first light—created by virtue of the crystals—Chantisse emerged as the first prime minister the Golgerran people ever elected.
Spirits were high as the populace celebrated.
Sy Loudens was a good sport and didn’t act like an entitled turd when he gave his concession speech.
Slay waited until the crowd thinned a little, then he headed over to shake Chantisse’s hand.
The resistance leader had never looked happier or more in her element, both gracious and charismatic.
The new prime minister accepted Slay’s congratulations with a broad smile.
“If you’re willing, I wish to send word with you to Ash Valley.
I’ve heard that all the other settlements have ratified the Pax Protocols, and I would like to make the truce official as soon as possible.
It’s the only way for our citizens to have complete peace of mind as we begin the next chapter of Golgerran history. ”
In most people, a declaration like that would seem like hyperbole, but Chantisse’s conviction made it feel like a promise instead.
Somewhat surprised at being offered a role in diplomatic endeavors, he said, “Yeah, that’s no problem at all.
I’m sure Dom will want to get things squared away ASAP as well. You can count on me.”
“What are you asking him to do?” Ro asked.
“I just requested that he carry a message when he leaves,” Chantisse said.
Maybe Slay was imagining things but it seemed like Ro flinched at hearing that. But she covered so quickly he couldn’t be sure. “Have you decided when you’re going?” she asked.
Before he could answer, someone flagged Chantisse and she murmured a courteous farewell, then headed off to join those waiting for her input. Ro took a step toward him, gripping his arm with a look he couldn’t identify.
“Well?”
“Soon,” he said. “Tomorrow, probably. But…I wanted to talk to you about that.”
Ro’s eyes were so wide and guileless, a clear lake under the moonlight. “About what?”
Time to bite the bullet.
“I’m wondering if you’d like to go with me. To Ash Valley,” Slay said.
“Are you asking me to have an adventure with you?” Her expression brightened at once, and she raised her face with a pert little grin.
“Yeah. You interested? We can travel old school. My jaguar could use a long run, and I’ll hunt as we travel. Ever gone on a long flight?”
She appeared to consider, then shook her head. “I’ve never flown for days at a time, mostly recon runs or during a battle. It would be amazing to go to Ash Valley that way with you. The freedom…”
“We can pitch camp a few times and I’ll cook up whatever I find for us.”
“Let’s do it,” she said, bouncing a little in her excitement.
“I also want to bring you to see someone.” He wasn’t sure how she’d take it if he admitted he planned to visit his mother’s columbarium and spill all his feelings afterward.
The more he thought about it, the better he liked the idea.
No danger in traveling overland now, though it might be rough for him, getting off the mountain.
Slay had no real recollection of how the hell he’d ended up here, but he could check some maps before he set off as a jaguar guide.
He’d never been much of a student, and geography wasn’t his strong point, but once he figured out which direction to travel in, they’d be fine.
The next morning, they got up early, relieved of all duty related to Golgerran business. Ro had many people she wanted to see before they left. For Slay there weren’t as many but he did stop by the lab where Sheyla Halek had holed up.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
He’d noticed that she didn’t give the customary greetings, like her time was money, and she didn’t care to spend it on small talk. Slay liked that about her, truth be told.
“Yeah, but we’re heading out soon. Just wanted to ask if there’s anything you need me to do for you in Ash Valley.”
“Let my family know I’m fine. I talk to them on the phone, but I suspect they don’t believe that I’m content or even safe, half the time. Maybe I should send a hank of hair with you as proof of life?”
Slay laughed. “They don’t like…Alastor?” It would take some getting used to, calling the former prince by his first name.
“It’s complicated. They want me to be happy, but they don’t believe I could’ve found that with someone like him.”
“The fact that he’s ill or the fact that he’s Gol?”
“More the latter,” she said quietly.
Slay bit back a swear. “Old prejudices die hard. My ma was the same way, only she even discriminated against Latents.”
Sheyla gave him a shrewd look. “I remember that about Lorelle. Mum also fears that he’ll leave me alone when I’m still young, but she doesn’t understand that I’d rather have whatever time I can get with Alastor than a lifetime with anyone else. This is the happiest I’ve ever been.”
“I’ll relay the message,” he said, wondering how freaking awkward that would be.
Still, if he wasn’t willing to help, he wouldn’t have offered. Maybe it would carry more weight if Sheyla’s words came from someone else. Gods knew, his own mother never listened to a word he said about Pru.
“Take care of yourself,” he said, and then went to find Rowena.
It was past time to go.