He squeezes my hand and rolls over to look me in the eye. Even with his skin camouflaged against the pale, fluffy furs, I can tell he’s in pain. “I don’t know how to fix this. Tell me how. Please, at least tell me where to start.”
It’s so tempting to flip into therapist mode. All these ideas bubble up that might help him. I want to hold his hand and walk every step of the way at his side. But if I do that, I’m going to be scraped raw. Maybe down to the bone. “I can’t do it for you. This is something you have to figure out.”
“What if I don’t succeed? I don’t want to lose you.” His arm slips around my waist, pulling me into his body, and it feels so good to be cradled against him. I feel myself melting, the pain in my head easing as I snuggle in with a sigh.
“It’s going to take time, but we have time. Right now, you don’t want me to leave, and I don’t want to go, so that’s a good place to start.”
He kisses my forehead. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”
I know he doesn’t, but he probably will by accident. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, though. I don’t have the energy for it right now. “Listen, my head is killing me. My insides feel turned inside out. I just want to drink tea with your armsaround me. Can we do that? Go back to the beginning before it got complicated?”
“Yes. I love Lesson One,” he murmurs hoarsely, tucking furs around us. “It might be my favorite. Rest, Delphie. Let me take care of you.”
Chapter 25
Nik
When she’s finally heavy with sleep, I feel like I can breathe again. In one night, I’ve ruined things with my Alara. Maybe irreparably. I have to fix this, and I don’t know where to start.
That’s a lie. I know, deep down, that it starts with trust. She has to trust that I won’t lash out at her when our connection is threatened. I have to trust that she won’t betray me at any opportunity.
I’m not sure I’ve ever trusted anyone in my life. My mother, maybe. Nikkava was the quietest of all the concubines, the least likely to smile, but she was gentle with me. Slow to anger. Always patient and willing to explain when I’d done something wrong. I think she and Delphie are alike in that way.
I unloop the pendant’s cord from my neck and slip it over Delphie’s head, taking care not to wake her. It’s a reminder that she is part of me. When my anger rises or my fear takes hold, I hope the red glass circle will remind me that she’s family. That our connection will persist as we learn how to love each other.
I wish we could stay here, just the two of us, without all the pressures of ruling a planet, rescuing hostages, preventing a war, teaching apprentices to be good warriors, and righting all the wrongs I committed under my father’s leadership. But ourconnection has to exist under these pressures, and I have to attend to them so they don’t break us even further.
Unable to rest, I slip out of bed. She murmurs my name in her sleep, and I freeze until she turns over, hugging Lyro’s poor braxa to her chest in my stead. After making sure she’s warm enough, I creep out, intending to return before she wakes.
A third-year apprentice is guarding the door. He is one of the steadiest temperaments, quick with his blades but slow to anger. A good choice for my queen’s guard, but I still bristle at him being here. A growl slips out.
“Alioth smile on you. The healer said Aqen needs rest,” he explains hurriedly.
I jerk an unhappy nod. “Her teeth are sharp. Let him heal. I owe him much for saving my Alara. If I do not return before she wakes...” I pause. Every instinct in me says to keep her here. To tell the guard not to let her leave the room. To lock the door behind me, just in case. But that instinct comes from fear, not from love.
“Take her where she wants.Not outside.And tell her I’ll be back as soon as I can.”Frix. I walk away as quickly as I can, before I come up with any more rules. Before I change my mind. It’s like part of me stays behind, lingering at her door, leaving a hollow place in my chest as I dive into my duties. I hate it, but this is a test. Everything is a test now.
Several messages wait for me in the comm room. The repairs in the mining levels are almost complete. The epylium stores have been fully secured. Gemeri has prepared maps of locations where the hostage exchange could occur that will act as neutral ground, as I do not want priests in my passageways. Likely they do not want to be at my mercy, either.
“We need more options,” I tell him.
He frowns at me, little black threads seeping down his ears. Not anger—too little for that. But disappointment, maybe. Irritation.
“You think I can pull options from under my sveli?” he snaps. “If you don’t want to meet here in the mountain or on the Eye, you meet out in the open.”
“I changed my mind. It’s too cold. The females won’t be sufficiently clothed.”
“I heard what happened to your terrakin,” he says gravely. “But the cold is a gift. If you send a warrior in your Alara’s stead, it will be easier to conceal their identity in many layers of clothing.”
“It won’t make a difference. Zomah will expect subterfuge.” My plan is to use brute force to secure the concubines and drive the priests back to their birds. Simple and effective, even if it means bloodshed.
Gemeri nods. “He will. A decoy will give you a few more minutes’ advantage while he sorts it out, but I think it’s the most you can hope for. A third of your warriors are still being treated on Olethia. Another quarter are still healing. You can’t overwhelm the shadowcloaks with numbers and many of your best are injured, so we must press every advantage.”
The crafty old scholar is right. It’s a risky plan, sending in a decoy, but it’s the best one we have. “I will ask the High Priest to limit the number of blades as well. If we each agree to a set number, that will help even the odds.”
Gemeri snorts. “Whatever you agree upon, he will send more.”
“Our warriors are worth two of his. And at least some of the priests will be distracted by the epylium crates. Zomah wants Delphie, but heneedsthe ore. If he’s forced to choose between them? He will choose the crates.”
