29 Pity #2
“Freedom, meaning, hope. There isn’t a square mile in this country that can provide me with all three.” Dalvia’s eyes were dead. “I don’t have the privilege of considering my safety. That has always had to be the least of my concerns.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed that leaving would be simple.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” Dalvia stared outside the window. “Have you ever felt as though your life was fruitless, Sarai? That nothing you do has meaning and even screaming that you’re in pain will only earn you ridicule?”
Sarai stiffened in recognition, nearly choking on her memories of Arsamea, of her time at the Hearing, even in the Aequitas before Noceo brought it down. “I have.”
“So have I, and forgive me if this sounds cruel, but I would take your scars to mine. Noceo’s father was a monster.”
Sarai stilled when she grasped Dalvia’s meaning. “Did—”
Resignation and a strange glimmer of relief flickered on the other woman’s face.
“I was too young at first for Clevsin’s tastes.
” She stared absently at the table. “Not that the risk wasn’t there.
Noceo and Drenevan suffered at his hands too, but I always had to be careful.
I wasn’t blood-related to him and completely at his mercy after my Clan died out.
There was every chance that I’d be a target once I was grown.
And once I was, Noceo saw to it that I’d be kept safe. ”
No wonder she’s loyal to him. “I’m sorry.” The same part of Sarai that had killed Aelius curled lovingly around the idea of going back in time and murdering Clevsin. “Truly, I am.”
“I know.” Dalvia’s voice held a wondering note. “I didn’t realize it then, but I think Noceo and Drenevan were too. Drenevan offered me the choice of coming with them. I betrayed his confidence and paid for it. I wonder how much would have been different if I hadn’t.”
Sarai shivered at the slump of the other woman’s shoulders, the dull pain in her eyes that spoke to being tossed about on the waves of much greater forces. It felt like looking into a mirror of where she had been a year ago. Forcing herself forward. Surviving, not living.
Turning, Dalvia surprisingly held her gaze.
“You asked why I didn’t leave. There comes a time when you realize that fighting changes nothing, Sarai.
I think you’ve already started to see it in these games of politics.
I simply found another way to rattle my fetters because power like yours doesn’t have freedom.
And freedom like mine, didn’t have power. ”
There was no arguing with that. They spoke little until their meal had ended.
Dalvia rose first. “Thank you. It was good to do this as I am and not as I want to be.”
Sarai’s smile tilted over to a perplexed frown. “What do you—”
“Name your favor. This chat wasn’t only to gauge me, was it? Ask. I don’t like being in debt.”
Sarai released a sigh. This could be a terrible idea. But she had to know. “Can I meet with Noceo tomorrow night? In Kadra’s morgue.” She raised her hands defensively at Dalvia’s rising eyebrows.
“Will you harm him?”
“No,” Sarai whispered. “Not until he tries to harm me.”
A sad smile found Dalvia’s lips. “Very well then.”
Sarai watched her depart and wondered why her heart hurt worse than ever.
Returning to Méherre’s home, she found Kadra poring over a volume of the Codices with bloodstained fingers. Frost bloomed like lichen across the thick glass, more flurries piling high beyond the door.
She gave him a reproving look. “Is someone dead?”
“Soon.” His smile glinted like a blade in the moonlight before he relented and explained.
“I’ve been attempting a few Summoning runes in the event that we may have to scar the mortal plane after all in order to disperse this god.
” Fathomless eyes slid over her profile before he reached for her hands. “What troubles you?”
She pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “You’ll think I’m mad, but I want to meet with Noceo.”
He blinked and waited.
“Something keeps troubling me about how he’s gone about his vengeance and what he wants of it.
He was entirely reasonable as Inquisitor Silvus until your name came up.
He’s convinced that you abandoned him. Utterly set on taking the life he believes you stole.
With anyone else, I’d say that they had seized upon any excuse to call themselves a victim, but Noceo truly believes he has cause. ”
“He may.” Limned in soft moonlight, Kadra’s profile held the quiet strength of a mountain. “I left him behind.”
“That’s your overblown sense of guilt speaking,” she said with a squeeze of his broad shoulders.
He still hadn’t spoken of what happened that night eleven years ago, and she was loathe to pry at the seam of that wound.
“What I know is that you arrived here from Komis and closed yourself off to everything and everyone. No lovers and almost no one in your life that you trusted. I thought to blame your father for it at first, and he undoubtedly played a part, but he didn’t have the power to emotionally wound you. I think Noceo did.”
His lips lifted faintly. “You have a stout heart, my Sarai. But he may not see reason.”
“I know. Anek and Méherre think the same. And by all the Elsar, I hate him for what he Coerced me to do, but we’re missing something.” She rubbed the back of her neck with a sigh. “When the dust settles across the capital, I want to be able to say that I was fair, even if I won’t be lauded for it.”
A soft drip on the water clock, and he drew her close, sliding an arm under her knees to lift her onto his lap. He exhaled like a man who’d come home.
“When?”
She held him tight. “Tomorrow night.”