Before I knew it, a soft sob escaped, each one shaking with hurt and confusion. How was this happening? What had caused it?
I sank to my knees, then leaned back, drawing them close to my chest.
“Cazimir?” I whispered, my voice fragile in the silence of the room.
Tears began to fall, hot and fast. I couldn’t accept it. There was no world where Caz would leave me behind.
My sweet, gentle, smiling Caz. He wouldn’t walk away from me.
But he did, my mind said.
I cried then, harder than I ever thought I could. The weight of the hurt was unlike anything I had ever known, and with it came a flood of doubt, making me question whether what we shared was real or if it had all been a fantasy of my own. The pain turned inward, twisting and unraveling my sense of self. My thoughts shifted fromwhy did Caz leave metowhy would he ever stay?I was just a fleeting moment in the grand story of his scholarhood.
To Caz, I was nothing. But to me, he was everything.
In the depths of my sadness, I turned my face and rested my cheek against my knees. That was when something caught my eye. A package was tucked beneath the bed, as though it had fallen there or been forgotten. Slowly, I crawled over to it. It was wrapped in thick cloth and bound tightly with ribbon. I turned it over, expecting to find something belonging to Caz, but it didn’t resemble anything I had ever seen him carry.
I frowned, my eyes swollen and sore, and tugged at one of the strings. It came apart easily, and I began to unwrap the cloth. As I did, afolded piece of parchment slipped out. I picked it up and opened it, immediately recognizing Caz’s neat handwriting.
My heart stilled.
It read:For Odessa. A tale of a love that changes the course of history.
The book was beautifully bound, its title inscribed in gold ink, and the pages crisp and untouched. But I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything. I didn’t know how many times I had read Caz’s note. It was as if I had turned to stone.
Gradually, feeling crept back into my limbs, and I stood, my face was a mask of emptiness. I stepped out of Caz’s room without a word. I must have passed a patron or two, but I didn’t register them. I walked through the inn in a trance, unable to hear or see anything clearly.
Somehow, I found myself once again in my home, standing before the hearth. Caz’s book was still clutched in my hands.
Without a second thought, I hurled it into the blazing fire. At once, it was swallowed by the flames. I watched it burn, devouring the pages until nothing remained but ash.
26
I never went backto the inn after that. I never saw Caz again either.
For a heartbeat the memories scorched me raw, but I forced them back, quieting their burn until only embers remained. What I clung to instead was the part of me that never wavered, the darkness that kept me alive.
How long had Leya been gone? I was so lost in thought that I had no sense of time. I doubted the prince would keep her in his coach until sunrise. It had taken me months to earn even one night where Gadriel let me stay in his bed.
I waited in the dark, sleep still out of reach. It must have been about a half-chime later when I heard movement from outside. I quickly slid back into the chest where I had hidden earlier. The coach door opened with a faint creak, and I caught Leya’s soft voice through the fur pelts.
“Thank you, Sir Regis,” she said, before the door shut with a soft thud.
I waited for a moment, then another, but there was only silence. Asharp command rang out from the stable master, and the coach wheels creaked as we continued on our way.
Still, Leya remained strangely quiet. At last, a deep sigh came from her.
“Odessa?” she called. “You can come out now.”
At her signal, I stepped out from the chest, my eyes falling on her silhouette. Leya still looked as beautiful as when she left, but something in her expression had changed, something she wasn’t ready to share. I didn’t press her.
Instead, I gestured to the fur pelts and asked, “May I?”
Leya gave a slight nod, and I picked up the thickest one, carrying it to the corner of the coach where I made a small nest for myself. Settling onto the blanket, I curled up with my knees drawn close to my chest. If I were to fall asleep, I preferred to do so upright. Better to be ready to run if I had to.
Leya began to undress, carefully folding her courtesan robes and tucking them away in a spot I couldn’t see. She slipped into a nightgown and settled onto her bed. From a hidden pocket, she pulled out a tiny vial and removed the stopper. The scent hit me immediately. It was a blend of herbs I knew well: A contraceptive tonic I had taken many times myself.
Leya drank it in one gulp, wincing from the bitterness. I loathed it too. I knew that in about a quarter-chime, she would feel sick, and the motion of the coach would only make it worse. Still, she moved to the bed, curling into the blankets and furs.
