Chapter 16
?──── Kallan(Flashback) ────?
The stone wall of the tower is slick with dew, but my grip is sure. Below me, Torin whispers through gritted teeth, "Gods, remind me again why we are doing this?"
I grin over my shoulder, my blond hair brushing my brow. "Because it's Alira's birthday, and Renya said no boys allowed."
He huffs. "Because that always stops you."
"Never."
With one final pull, I reach the balcony and swing myself up with practiced grace. I crouch and offer a hand down.
Torin follows with far less grace, landing with a quiet grunt. "Next time, we use the front door."
"Less dramatic," I whisper.
Muffled laughter spills from inside the room through the gauzy curtains. Two shapes move beneath candlelight. Serenya and Alira are curled up on a mountain of blankets and pillows with wine goblets in hand.
"Think they'll scream?" he asks.
"I hope so."
I pull back the curtains and step inside.
Serenya is mid-sip when she sees me and nearly chokes. Alira lets out a shriek that turns into a laugh when she realizes who it is.
"Are you insane?!" Serenya hisses, scrambling up, cheeks flushed.
"Absolutely," I say. "But look, we brought gifts." I produce a bottle of wine and a bundle of wrapped chocolates from my coat. "Bribery. In honor of Alira's birthday."
Alira grins and takes the wine. "You’re forgiven."
Torin gives her a boyish shrug as he passes her the chocolates. "Climbing five stories for this better be worth it."
Serenya rolls her eyes, failing to hide her smile. "You're lucky the guards didn't see you."
"We are guards," Torin points out.
"Which makes this worse," Alira teases, swatting his shoulder.
We gather on the floor, the girls in their nightgowns, us boys stretching out lazily in borrowed blankets. Laughter bubbles between us as we pass the wine and play a card game Alira made up.
By the time the candles burn low, Alira has dozed off against Torin's chest, his arm wrapped protectively around her.
I watch them for a moment, a soft smile on my lips. I turn to Serenya. "Come," I say quietly, standing and holding out a hand for her.
She takes it without hesitation, and we step out onto the moonlit balcony. A warm summer breeze blows her hair into her face, and I brush it back with my fingers.
We sit together, her resting between my legs with her back against my chest and my arms wrapped around her.
"It's peaceful," she murmurs. "I like quiet nights. I like wine and stars and chocolate."
"And me?"
"You're tolerable." She smirks.
I give her a dramatic sigh, then lean closer, nuzzling her neck with exaggerated sadness. "Tolerable? After all my devotion?"
She giggles and tries to squirm away, but I hold her close. Our laughter fades slowly, replaced by a silence that feels too full to speak into. The kind of silence that wraps around two people like a secret.
My voice is quieter when I say, "I like this. Being here. With you. No armor. No duty. Just you, Renya."
She doesn’t answer with words. Her shadows wrap up my arms, rubbing against my cheek as she reaches for my hand and threads our fingers together.
We sit that way for a while, wrapped in a blanket with stars above and the sound of cicadas filling the air.