“There never is.” Then I sigh. Poor Amir. He has a long road ahead of him. There are things that must be done. For the next seven days, Ammara’s denizens will place offerings at the temples and shrines. The capital gates will close. The markets will shut down until the crown is inherited by another.
“I know we aren’t close,” Tuleen murmurs, “but I want you to know that I’m here, should you need me.” And now she takes my hand in hers, offering it a gentle squeeze. I accept the comfort for what it is: a grace. “You are my family, but more so, you are my friend. If ever there is a time when you feel you don’t know who to turn to, please come to me.”
A wave of gratitude moves through me, and I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood. My family does not speak of such things. We do not divulge hardship. We expose neither unhappiness nor suffering. What a relief that this woman has entered our lives, allowing us to tread new paths.
“I appreciate that,” I whisper. She cannot know how much.
It is not so bad,I think,having a sister.
Time passes, and I find sanctuary in the gardens. Dawn and dusk, I find myself enveloped in green, doing all I can to avoid interaction. The white marble bench cold beneath me. The fountain burbling behind a shield of interlocking laurel leaves, and bougainvillea clambering up the face of the stone wall at my back, its buds painted in sunset shades of orange, rose, and lavender.
Today was particularly heavy. I could not stay in my quarters a moment longer. They are too vast, all that space for my spiraling thoughts. Here, the dense foliage piles and climbs. It enfolds me in the scents of loam and sweet nectar.
The crunch of pebbles underfoot draws my attention to the entrance. The South Wind, his violet robes blending into the shadows and his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, hovers beneath a cluster of trumpet-shaped flowers. Even in the near gloom, his dark eyes possess a remarkable brightness.
“You’re up late,” I say. The midnight hour fled ages ago.
“I was finishing my rounds.” This low, careful manner of speaking holds a slow rhythm. “I thought I might find you here.”
The comment brings a small, sad smile to my mouth. Because he knows me, I realize. Perhaps better than I know myself. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“That’s understandable.” There is a pause. I sense his indecision even as I sense it within myself. Notus is one such person I made an effort to avoid. “Roshar’s looking for you,” he says.
“I know.”
Earlier, Roshar knocked on my door. I didn’t answer. He left a note, along with an apricot tart, stating he would seek me out tomorrow. The tart sits on my desk, untouched.
The South Wind comes forward a step—just one. The stretch of darkness between us feels alive. Always, that push and pull, to fall or to flee. The truth is, I do not wish to be alone. His presence is not unwelcome.
“May I sit?” he asks.
My throat tightens, yet I nod, sliding toward the end of the bench to make room.
“I would have come sooner,” Notus whispers, angling toward me. “But I wanted to respect your need for privacy.” His expression twists in helplessness. “I’m so sorry, Sarai.”
I nod numbly. These passing days have been spent organizing his funeral, preparing for Amir’s coronation. One king exchanged for another. I’ve barely slept. “Fifty-seven years he ruled Ammara,” I say. Papa was only a boy of twelve when he inherited the throne.
“He was an honorable king.”
Indeed, King Halim was honorable, loyal, fair. Ammara’s citizens will remember his generosity and goodwill. As for me, I will cling to those few memories, the rare times I had Father rather than a king.
When I do not respond, Notus asks, “How is Amir?”
“As well as can be, given the circumstances.” The next words emerge before I have the opportunity to fully process them. “I know you don’t exactly care for him, but it’s important that we show the realm a united front, at least until Amir has settled into his new role.” Not that I will be here to witness it. “He would appreciate your support.”
“He told you this?”
“Well, no.” I clench my hands in my lap. “But I spoke with Tuleen, and I just want you to be aware of how difficult a transition this will be for him. He’s too proud a man to ask for help, and your acceptance would go far in alleviating some of his concerns.”
The South Wind sighs. “Amir and I have never seen eye to eye, and we likely never will. That doesn’t mean I don’t believe he is good. Thatdoesn’t mean I won’t support him.” He is earnest as he says, “Amir will bring positive change to Ammara and build a legacy your father would be proud of. This I know.”
So few words, yet they help alleviate my worry before it has the opportunity to hook too deeply. I nod, slightly abashed. “Sorry.”
“No offense taken.”
How does he so easily forgive? I have insulted his character not once, but again and again since his return. The gods must have thick skins.
“Sarai.” At last, Notus’ hand engulfs mine, thawing the chill of my icy skin. My heart twinges. His touch has always grounded me. “What do you need?”
