Chapter Fifteen #3
“I’ve always looked up to him, you know,” Sundar says, striding beside me as we make our way out. “Ever since he came to Razam that first time.”
When he stopped the brewing war not by appealing to Queen Sadira, but by asking what she needed. By listening to her.
“You remind me of him sometimes,” I find myself saying.
“He really confounded me back then,” Sundar says.
“True, I was a bit of a hellion, but I think I sensed how alike we were rather quickly. Yet he had this innate ability to put everyone under his spell, while I couldn’t wrangle an ounce of favor from anyone at court.
So I watched him, studied him—the easy way in which he moved, the way he always carried a smile, even when talking to my mother, who was definitely not happy to see him at first. That man was always in a good mood, even when he had seven blades angled at his neck. ”
A mask, I think.
But not entirely.
In fact, I admire that about him. He can find joy and humor in any situation, and I think I need someone like that so that I can learn to find it, too.
“I’d consider sacrificing a finger to have witnessed that whole encounter,” I say.
“It was…” Sundar breathes out another chuckle.
“It was very unexpected. Can you believe…he waltzed right into the palace, covered in days’ worth of sand crust after baking in it for days.
I saw him quipping with the guards, who definitely did not believe he was a king.
I was only fourteen at the time. I raced over, held up a sword.
He laughed and said, ‘At your leisure, princeling, but do leave the grapes intact.’ ”
I can almost hear him say it in that sarcastic, ridiculous way of his.
“I was determined to hate him,” Sundar admits.
“But he was so very reasonable and kind, I think he won my brothers over before he did my mother. And you know, he always made a point to ask our opinions. He wasn’t just there for my mother.
He knew our names within the first hour of being there.
He asked to join us in our activities—our sports, our lessons, all of it.
I remember wanting to be just like him when I grew up. ”
“His own brothers were…well, you know. Vile. I’m betting you all made up for that in your own way.”
“That’s really sad, actually,” Sundar says. “Over time, we did consider him like a brother. But I don’t believe anyone ever told him that.”
“Maybe you can one day.”
He smiles gently. “Yeah, we just gotta wake the bastard up. Have you thought of, I don’t know, seducing the daylights out of him?”
My stomach plummets at the mention.
“He is rather satiated here, in case you hadn’t noticed. He has a posse of souls eager to please him, and he has certainly indulged himself. And I…” I blow out a breath. “I am so very imperfect compared with them.”
“We all saw how infatuated he was with you at the Gathering. And it wasn’t mere physical attraction, Vasalie. It ran much deeper than that. I don’t think even a Fate could erase what drew him to you in the first place.”
The words are kind, and they threaten hope. I tamp it down. At the Gathering, it was…circumstantial.
“It’s safer to keep my distance,” I say. “He has the power to cast me out. My best hope is to do my duty. Dance each evening, and hope he leaves me well enough alone until we find his codex.”
“I thought the goal was to keep him engaged.”
“The goal is to entertain him just enough that he lets me stay here.” A sigh. “And I’m already failing at that.”
“Failing? How so?”
“I only have thirteen days left before the Syndicate’s deadline, and he barely watches me, Sundar.”
“Are you so sure about that?”
“You’ll see for yourself soon enough,” I say.
“But what if he’s privy to information we need to break Moranya’s hold?
Whatever Moranya needs him for,” Sundar argues.
“You said it yourself: Everything must be connected. He knows her quite well, being that he’s been, ah, deceased quite a lot.
And I distinctly remember he had a journal about her in that workshop of his.
It was with his notes about the pendant.
Maybe it’s worth trying to talk to him about her, at the very least.”
“He isn’t going to just offer information up.”
“For you, he might,” Sundar insists.
“He would be suspicious!”
“Maybe, or maybe he isn’t so tight-lipped as you think—”
“You try to talk to him, then,” I say, exasperated.
“If he still believes my mother betrayed him, he’s certainly not going to talk to me. But I’m telling you, Vas, he isn’t as disinterested in you as you seem to believe. Feelings can’t vanish as easily as memories do.”
“Sundar, it’s been days of this. Days of him looking away, not caring, finding pleasure in anyone but me—”
“I just can’t believe it, Vasalie. I—”
“Please,” I breathe, my heart speeding. “Can’t we focus on finding his codex?” It’s far safer than risking my heart to try to get close to him in that way.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
Sundar sighs. “Fine. But I think you are underestimating yourself. And that makes me sad.”