Chapter Thirteen #2
Chin resting on his palm, he looks down at her, a perplexed frown puckering the smooth skin between his brows. “I’m not sure I understand your meaning? I’ve given you my preferred name.”
She shakes her head, realizing how she misspoke. “Name is the wrong word, I suppose I mean title? The world has so many names for you. What would you choose to be called?”
Understanding shines as bright as his amusement. “Bold of you to believe I didn’t choose those.”
She raises a brow, skeptical. “Did you?”
His smile is sly. Teasing. “What about you?” he asks, folding his legs beneath him. “What illustrious title would you choose for the mortals to call you by?”
“None.” She blanches. “I’m not a god.”
His brow ticks up. “No? Then what are you?”
Anna shrugs, feeling awkward under his stare. She wishes she had more laundry just to busy her hands, but instead her fingers fiddle with the ring on her finger. His ring. “Just …” She trails off, fights to find the words. “A girl who ate a peach.”
A moment of silence and then his laughter fills the space, echoing over the water and slipping through the trees. “Anna, there is nothing just about you.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“Nor did you.”
“I did, actually.”
“Not to my satisfaction.”
Anna rolls her eyes at his stubbornness. There’s a smile hiding at the corners of his mouth, a testament to how entertaining he finds it all. “What would you call me, then?” she challenges. “If I were a god, what title would you bestow on me?”
His smile retreats, replaced with something more thoughtful than she intended. It was supposed to be a silly question, something he responded to with jest. There’s a sincerity in his gaze that assures her that he’s weighing his answer with far more consideration than she expected.
“Anna, the Benevolent,” he says, so softly the gentle movement of the creek nearly drowns it.
Anna doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t know what to say.
He must see the struggle in her expression, because he saves her with a smirk.
“I have studied Mary for three days. I can say with certainty that I would have pushed her into the pig waste.”
Anna snorts on a laugh, bringing a hand up to stifle the sound, but the light in his eyes only encourages it.
It bubbles out of her, leaves her breathless, and oh, it feels so wonderful to laugh.
To let herself express joy after seasons of suppressing it.
She can’t seem to pull it back; she is an overflow of relief and delight spilling over.
Khiran does nothing to contain it. If anything, the grin he wears only encourages her.
Anna kneels, torn between anger and irritation.
She had known Mary had a general distaste for her, but she hadn’t quite believed that she actively wished for her death.
Of all things, it isn’t the patterns on her skin that condemn her, but a bitter woman’s jealousy.
Behind Anna’s back, she had gone to the minister with accusations of consorting with the devil.
Why else would she so fearlessly go into the wilderness—the Devil’s den—alone and so often?
Now Anna waits for what she knows will only be a disaster. Hands bound in front of her and tied to a post for the entire settlement to witness her humiliation, Anna knows there is no trial that saves her. They’ll search her for a mark and find more than they’d spend time counting.
Mary approaches her, leaning down until they’re face to face.
Not Mary, Anna realizes. Mary would never risk touching her, too afraid of what powers the devil might hold. Too afraid she might corrupt her with a look or a word.
Khiran’s grin is crooked. He leans forward, their cheeks brushing as he whispers in her ear. “Shall we give them something to fear?”
Anna pulls away, reads the mischief in his eyes. It sends sparks across her skin, in her chest. “What did you have in mind?”
His fingers run along the rope. “A disappearance of a very bound, very public person accused of fornicating with the devil.” He tilts his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “Perhaps a touch of smoke and embers for drama?”
He’s erected no barrier around them, she can feel the settlement’s eyes as easily as she can hear the shout for Khiran to step away. She bites her lip, smothering the smile that wants to break free. “Surely there would be some disappointment if there wasn’t.”
His grin is wide, she can feel it as he leans forward and whispers in her ear—his hands finding purchase around her waist. “Apologies, I’m afraid we’re going a touch farther than last time.”
Anna’s lips part around a question she never gets to speak.
Around her, the world is shrinking and expanding, a kaleidoscope of moving pieces that blur so fast they make a tunnel of color around them.
She can feel it pulling at her clothes, at her skin, threatening to rip her apart if not for the protective hold of Khiran’s arms caging her in.
Over his shoulder she spies a glimpse of stillness through the chaos—a fragile look into the place she left behind.
A piece of rope falling to the ground—scorched and smoking—empty of her hands.