“Narro hath hoolo,” Vi whispered listlessly. Luckily, the magic was so familiar to her now that she didn’t even have to think about summoning the glyph. It was second nature.
A pair of booted feet appeared in her vision. Vi’s eyes drifted upward—up the loose-fitting pants tucked into the worn boots at the knees, up to the robe he was rarely without, up to the eyes she hadn’t seen in what felt like forever.
Somehow, her gaze had brought her whole body up with it. Vi was on her feet. She moved in a haze, pulled along by a base need and the knowledge that with Taavin came confidence, reassurance, stability in a world that suddenly seemed profoundly unstable.
Taavin’s arms wrapped around her. Her face pressed into his chest, muffling her words.
“I missed you.” She nearly choked on such a simple statement. More emotion than she could bare tried to compound in the spaces between each word.
She felt his cheek, warm on her temple. His lips brushed lightly against her ear as he spoke.
“And I missed you immeasurably.” Taavin took a slow breath that quivered just slightly at the end. “But Vi, tell me what has upset you so?” He didn’t comment on the room. He didn’t ask where she was now. He didn’t even ask for updates on her trials and progress toward Meru. All he focused on was what made her tremble in his arms. “I feel it… I feel you… What has made your heart so heavy?”
She didn’t answer him immediately. She couldn’t. If she opened her mouth now it would let out the tears.
“Vi, you’re safe here,” he murmured. “It will all be all right.”
“You can’t say that. You don’t know that,” Vi retorted, somewhat angrily. How could he proclaim it would all work out? She was far from home—far from everything she’d ever known. She was shaken to her core and she felt like she’d lost far more than she’d gained. Logically, Vi knew it was a moment of weakness. But logic was losing the battle against emotion at present.
“I do know that.”
“How?”
“Because you are here, with me, in my arms… And so, everything will be all right.”
It was illogical. There was no reason for her to believe it. No clear explanation for why it soothed her so. But soothe it did. Vi felt her shoulders relax. The tense knot in her throat gave way to a small hiccup. And a single tear of exhaustion and frustration rolled down her cheek.
“It’s okay.”
Vi pressed her eyes closed, feeling the intricate embroidery that covered his chest sink into her skin as she tried to remove all space between them. Nothing was okay. Her world was changing faster than she could keep up.
But his arms remained around her—firm and unmoving. Perhaps that was what he’d meant.Theywere okay. This one beautiful and unexpected thing she could rely on when everything else was gone—that was still okay.
She leaned into him further, if that were possible, and let out one quivering breath, then another. Magic was as hot against her wrist as his breath was on her cheek. And when she finally pulled away to look up at him, all Vi saw was his kind and unwavering gaze—filled with more adoration than she deserved in her present state.
Leaning up, craning her neck, Vi kissed him once for strength.
Then, languidly, she kissed him a second time, purely because she wanted to.
The third time, he kissed her. And the third time was the charm. For it was then that the world drifted away and she melted into him, sure that if she let go of the fear and anger trying to knot itself around her heart, everything would be all right.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Fire crackled around her shoulders,the water in the tub hissing steam. Heating water was something she couldn’t even dream of doing mere months ago. But now, her magic was more like an old friend than an estranged neighbor she only sort of knew from a distance. Vi drew her legs to her chest, working to get her thoughts in order.
She needed to speak to Jayme and apologize properly, with a clear head. That was first. Then, second, Lord Erion Le’Dan.
Vi practiced what she may say to Jayme over and over, but nothing sounded right. With a sigh, she finally emerged from the tub and started for the main room. She’d just have to figure it out as she went, and trust herself to keep her sense when the time came.
When Vi left the bathroom, she found clothes had been laid out on the bed in the other room—just as Ivos had promised.
It was certainly a sampling. Yet despite his assurances, nothing seemed to fit quite right. The tailored styles of the West were unforgiving to Vi’s curves. If she found something that fit in the hips and waist, it was comically large around the calves and ankles. If it fit her lower legs, she could barely get the waistband over her bum.
In the end, Vi settled for something that was no doubt out of fashion—a small price to pay for actually complimenting the shape of her body. A silken skirt clung to her hips, falling to her knees before flaring slightly, as though the seamstress had intended for all the extra fabric. The top she chose was knit, and felt somewhat modest given how Westerners seemed to like their fashion.
Vi’s hand hovered over the doorknob, hesitant. She collected herself with a deep breath. Vi opened the door.
“Jayme, I—”
