Chapter 4
The warmth of Ruben’s hug is everything I remembered and a thousand times better besides.
It doesn’t matter that we’re now in a fully heated home, with no need for his power to stop my extremities from freezing. I cling to him, and I don’t want to let go. From the way his entire body relaxes as he holds me, he feels the same way.
It’s only when a throat clears behind us that I realise how long we’ve been holding each other.
‘So … any chance of some introductions?’ Benny asks, sounding amused.
Reluctantly, Ruben and I break apart. The comparative rush of cold is almost instantaneous, and Ruben’s eyes linger on me with a warmth that isn’t purely platonic, making me flush.
‘Benny, this is Ruben, a good friend of mine. From before the Retterheld.’ I lay just a little extra emphasis on the word friend.
‘Ruben?’ Benny says with a smirk as he takes in Ruben’s tousled good looks. ‘You’d think I’d have heard your name before, but I suspect there’s a reason she kept you secret. Not wanting to share, Rose?’
‘Shut up,’ I say, but I can’t stop grinning. After everything that’s happened over the past twenty-four hours, having Ruben here feels like a blessing I didn’t know I needed.
And I’ll take every blessing I can get.
Ruben is dressed in finery that there’s no way in hell he should possess, and his hug lacks the distinct ‘slum odour’ that used to characterise our embraces.
‘Ruben, this is Benny. He’s the—’
‘Just Benny,’ he interrupts smoothly, stepping forward and offering a hand before I can say his title. ‘Pleased to meet you, Ruben.’
As the three of us stand there, I can hardly take my eyes off my old friend. He looks every inch an aristocrat, decked out in fine tailoring with his hair coiffed to perfection, although the way he fiddles with the bottom of his shirt almost gives it away.
Though frankly, the nervousness only makes me more overjoyed to see him. It’s a far cry from the arrogance that normally fills the High Hold.
‘You know,’ Ruben says to me after a moment, ‘I’m pretty sure it’s rude to stare.’
‘Sorry.’ I let out an awkward laugh. ‘I know, I know. It’s just … you look good. How do you look so good?’
‘Well, that’s a backhanded compliment if I’ve ever heard one.’ He grins, taking any sting out of his words.
‘No, no, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that … your clothes, your … everything—’
‘I don’t look like I’m from the slums anymore? Figures since I now have a place in the third,’ he says with quiet pride.
With everything that’s happened over the last day, I thought I was done with surprises. But this has me beaming in shock. ‘You’re kidding? The third ring? How?’ I’ve heard of people moving from the slums to the fifth – it’s rare, but it happens – but to move all the way to the third…?
‘Come in,’ I say, realising we’re still standing in the doorway. ‘I need to hear everything.’
As he moves forward, it’s Ruben’s turn to stare in wonder, and he gapes at the magnificent house I now live in.
‘Gods, Rosey. How the hell did you cope so well in the slums if this is where you grew up?’
It’s a good question. All these years, I’ve told myself I’m good at adapting. I had to be. The slums taught me that survival belongs to those who bend first and break last.
But the High Hold is a different beast entirely. Here, everything is polished and sharp-edged, built for people who have never had to learn how to endure.
Adapting to this place will not be about hunger or cold, but about remembering who I am when every smile around me has a dagger hidden behind it.
The danger here is not that I will fail to belong. It is that I might succeed and lose myself in the process.
Still, I give Ruben the only answer I can. ‘I’m good at adapting,’ I reply with a brittle smile.
Having Ruben here reminds me that it’s true; I’ve dealt with change before. I can do so again.
‘Come on in. Let’s sit,’ I urge, dragging him into the dining room. He may as well eat while he’s here, and it’s not like there isn’t more than enough to go around.
‘How did you get into the third?’ I ask again as I push him into a chair. Before he can answer, I ask, ‘Are you hungry?’ I point to the ridiculous spread Summer has prepared. ‘Please, help yourself.’
‘No, no, I’m good,’ Ruben replies.
‘You are. You are definitely good,’ Benny mutters beside me.
I elbow him, hard, then ignore Benny and face Ruben pointedly. ‘How are you here? How are you…?’ I gesture to his fine clothes as words fail me.
‘Looking so hot?’ Benny finishes for me. ‘I think that’s what she’s trying to ask, right, Rose?’
I roll my eyes at him.
‘I think Rosey will agree I’ve always been hot,’ Ruben says, flashing Benny a quick smirk. ‘But if you’re talking about the clothes and my miraculous transformation, that’s easy to explain. I took a bet – several actually – and they paid out. Very, very well.’
‘You bet? On what?’ The question has barely left my lips when I realise the answer, and my hand flies to my mouth. ‘Ruben. You didn’t?’
His smile widens as he offers a slight shrug. ‘I knew you wouldn’t have entered unless you could win. So I sold a few things – well, yeah, everything, actually. I also called in a few favours to get a bit more, and then I bet on you to win. And well, here we are.’
Benny is back to gaping. ‘You bet everything you had on Rose to win the Retterheld? Everything? You risked it all? On her?’ His incredulity should be insulting, but I find myself agreeing utterly with his attitude.
Ruben’s eyes meet mine as he answers, causing the hairs to rise on the back of my neck. ‘Yeah. I did.’
‘Fuck, that’s hot,’ Benny mutters.
I don’t even want to hit him for the remark. But he’s wrong. It’s not hot; it’s incredible. It’s humbling. It’s phenomenal.
‘I bet on her to win the first trial, and when she won, I collected my winnings and immediately bet them all on her winning the second trial. And then the third and the fourth. And then the Ofur.’
‘Gods, Ruben.’ I find myself lost for words. Lost for air, too. ‘If you’d lost everything … if I hadn’t won …’
He shrugs again, that smile still in place. ‘Yeah, that would have been difficult. But I know you. You’d have killed every person in Morathka before you left Kay alone. When you look at it like that, it was a pretty sure thing.’
I’m surprised by the tears that clog the back of my throat. For him to have that much faith in me, to know that he risked everything, has left me truly aghast. I’m not sure anyone’s ever shown that kind of belief in me before.
The thought forms only to be instantly replaced.
Kyor did.
When I dove into the water to communicate with the kraken, Jonas thought I was insane. Thought I was going to die. I’m sure even Benny doubted I was capable of it. But Kyor believed in me.
And now that memory is bitter as hell.
Fuck him.
Kyor doesn’t deserve a place in my thoughts right now.
Instead, I focus on the handsome man before me. Ruben risked everything he had because he believed in me. I’m never going to forget that. Not ever.
‘Thank you,’ I whisper. A moment passes between us – a moment in which the rest of the world filters away.
‘I’m pretty sure I’m the one who should be thanking you.’ A smile flickers on his lips only to fade almost instantly, tension rising in his frame.
‘What is it?’ I say, confused by his sudden shift. ‘Has something happened?’
He presses his lips tightly together. ‘I actually came for another reason, not just to flout my new wealth in your face.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I need a favour.’
Given how he helped me in the slums, I owe him a dozen, if not more. Not to mention the show of faith he has just displayed in me. ‘Of course. Anything. What do you need?’
Rather than responding, Ruben fiddles with the hem of his shirt.
‘Mum’s got worse. A lot worse. I hoped that when we moved to the third it would help, but I’m worried we got there too late.
’ He hesitates. ‘I know your mum was a healer, Rosey, and I’m guessing that since you won, you’ve got your magic back.
That’s what you asked for, right? Your magic, and everything taken from you, to be returned? ’
‘Right.’ It’s with a deep throb that I realise he knows me well enough to anticipate my one wish from Etta.
‘Well, Mum’s been to see the regular healers, but they said they can’t do anything. I just hoped … since your mum was such an amazing healer … there might be something more you can do?’
The weight of his hope settles on me like a physical thing. My mother’s name is never spoken, not aloud, but it hangs between us all the same. She was certainty; I am doubt. She was knowledge earned over decades, whereas I am only just finding my feet again.
For a heartbeat, I ache with the absence of her.
With everything she might have taught me, everything I might have been, if the world had not torn her and my magic away.
Healing was meant to be my path once. Not crowns or trials or divine bargains, but this.
Hands stained with herbs. Long nights. Lives made better in small, quiet ways.
‘I’ll try,’ I say honestly. The words feel pitiful, measured against what my mother was and what I was meant to become. Everything I fear I’m not.
‘Of course I’ll try,’ I continue, ‘but I’ve only just regained my magic. I’m not sure I’ll be able to do anything more than the experienced healers have already done.’ Less, in truth. But I’ll try. For him.
‘That you have your magic at all is a miracle,’ Ruben says softly. ‘I’m just hoping for one more.’
My mind races as I think of how I might help Noleen.
Had my powers not been taken from me, I would have likely gone down the same route as my mother, combining my magic with spell work to make remedies as a healer.
But the chance to hone such skills was snatched from me, along with my magic.
Still, I have her old notebooks and her orangery.
Even if the plants aren’t in the best of shape, I’m sure I can remedy that.