I dared to continue. “What is hate? It is a form of passion, and passion is the root that grows into all deep feelings such as hate or love. The opposite of passion is indifference. And one thing that I do know for certain is that neither of you feels indifference towards each other. But both of you do still harbor a great deal of passion.”
Kole shifted his weight to the side of his seat. Unfurrowing the fingers of his right hand, he brought it to his face and then passed it through his hair. Bringing his elbow to rest on the armrest, he craned his head so that his fingers remained intertwined in his golden strands. His face was largely hidden from me. I reached for his free hand, which was still balled into a fist on his thigh.
My fingers moved over his hand until I grasped it. All I knew was that he was in pain, and I wished to help him through it. However, I had no idea how to do that other than to reach out and physically touch him, to let him know he was not alone. Kole did not respond to my touch, which I saw as a positive sign, for he did not swat my hand away.
“What have I done? I thought she needed some time . . . me not caring about her is . . .” Kole struggled finding the words. Finally, his left hand opened, allowing for mine to interlock withhis for a moment. “Ariana, thank you, but I need you to leave now.” He sounded defeated.
I nodded though he didn’t see me do it. I no longer held his attention. Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, I rose to my feet, leaving him in the small sitting room.
Moments after I finally entered my chamber, I heard the sound of pages flapping as he chucked the book he had been reading at a wall. Sounds of chaos followed, likely the noises of furniture breaking. Kole roared in anger, and I was glad that Erik was elsewhere so that no one had to witness what was happening.
My heart broke for Kole, for the pain he felt. Perhaps it would have been better if I had not interfered and kept my mouth shut. I did not know what Eislyn’s true intentions were for her past actions. The things we talked about were only to show a different possibility, that things were not always clear. Assuming to know someone’s reasonings for something was not the same as truly knowing and understanding. I had hoped to help; instead, it felt as though I had done more harm. I hated that I caused Kole to question himself in such a way.
With my back to the sitting-room door, I slid down to the ground and sat there while Kole released his torments by physically destroying things.
I remained there, silently with him long after the sounds of chaos had finally subsided.
36
ERIK
It was the day before we were scheduled to leave for the Bavadrin lands. Time since the attack passed at an incredible rate. I threw myself into preparing the forces here to stand against the fire conjuror. Which meant that I attended their trainings, demonstrating and participating for as long as I physically could. No time was left for anything else. Including my dinners with Ariana.
The Bavadrin had spent her days training with Eislyn. Ariana’s movements changed with time, at least that was what I noted from the distant glimpses I got of her. She became lighter on her feet, smoother in her movements. There had always been a confidence to the way she held herself, though it now morphed into something sturdier, gaining a weight to it, an edge.
When I approached near the end of her session with Eislyn and invited Ariana for a walk, she agreed with a bright smile. Though curiosity tinged her green eyes as she joined me.
“Are you hurt?” I asked after she rolled her right shoulder for the third time, as if testing the feel of it.
“Just a little sore.” She glanced at me and stopped the motion.
I only took her far enough to find a quiet area for us to rest. I sat in a partially shaded spot, leaving a patch of grass beside me bathed in sunlight I knew she would favor. Ariana lowered herself next to me. The woman seemed to always seek out sunlight. She closed her eyes, tipping her head towards the warmth and drew in a deep breath.
Ariana usually remained composed around me, hardly ever letting me scent a trace of fear. But there was often a rigidness. As if she needed to stay alert to monitor a potential threat. Now, as she relaxed into the grass, eyes closed, heartbeat steady, I couldn’t look away. She was the picture of peace. There was something captivating about it, about her.
“I never properly thanked you for your actions that day,” I stated, voice breaking the silence.
“You’ve had little opportunity,” she replied, peering at me through thick lashes. In the sunlight her eyes sparkled in green hues. Never had I cared to have a favorite color before. But I think the emerald of her eyes might have been it. They shone with warmth, cleverness, bravery.
I nodded, shifting to gaze to a tree branch overhead, using my arm as a makeshift pillow behind my head. My other hand rested casually on the hilt of a blade at my hip. Never again would I be caught without it on my body. “Plans needed to be made to ensure nothing like that ever repeats.” I turned back to her. “I should have sought you out sooner. I am sorry.”
Her eyes widened, lips lifting at the corners. “I get a thank you and an apology all in one day from the Lysian King? Perhaps the healer missed a spot somewhere in there, leaving something wonderfully broken.”
Her teasing pulled an easy smile from me. “I can admit when I am wrong and when I am thankful.”
“Remind me to thank the healer.” She smirked.
I chuckled, some of the tension in my shoulders easing. When had I started enjoying her company like this?
“Can you tell me about who they were?” Ariana asked, shifting the conversation.
“Distant relatives that broke away from the group a long time ago.” Moving a hand from the hilt of my blade, I picked a flower of an autumn weed and twirled it absentmindedly between my fingers. “Why didn’t you run?” It was a question I thought about far too often.
Ariana shrugged, glancing at the flower I held. “What good would that have done me? Perhaps I could have made it home, or perhaps Lysians would have caught me, and I would be worse off than I am now.” Her gaze lifted to mine. “If I ran, then you would have likely died. I couldn’t let you die like that, not when you protected me.”
I would have never needed to protect her if she had been home. The thought soured my mood. Since the day my eyes first landed on her, I always had been a threat to her, and she had always helped me. She gave when she should have run, forgave when she had every reason to hate. Where I was danger, she was peace.
“Thank you,” I murmured, twirling the flower in my hands several more times before finally discarding it aside. Laying back, I allowed my eyes to briefly close. “Tomorrow, we begin the journey to your city again,” I commented, changing the subject.
