He boldly grabs my hand and ducks his head, locking his eyes with mine. There’s nothing but determination. As if he’s trying to mentally pour the raw confidence from his mind to mine.
“Show me you’re ready.” He smirks and adds, “I didn’t take you for someone to back down from a challenge.”
“I got out of that room as fast as I could earlier.” Rather than rising to the challenge of singing in front of others.
“True. But that didn’t matter. It was petty, showy, noble nonsense. This matters. Someone’s life is on the line and I know you, Victoria, you won’t abandon someone in need.”
I still and take a deep and bracing breath. “How do you know me so well?”
An uneasy sensation glides across my skin as I realize just how much I have exposed myself to him, leading me to question the boundaries I never intended to allow him to breach. Somehow, with every conversation, every wordless afternoon of song, he’s managed to find the rough outlines of my hidden scars and unspoken secrets. When Ilryth looks at me, he sees me. He is as familiar as my crew, as comforting as my family. He is forbidden and yet is also liberation in every stolen moment and touch. Being here, working with him, learning magic…it makes me feel alive in a way I never have before.
“You’ve handled everything in your stride—with grace. All because you want to help the people around you and the people you love. It’s admirable.”
His words paint me as a paragon of selflessness and a bitter smile twitches my lips. The truth is far more complex, blurred with hues of genuine compassion, and the shades of an underlying, gnawing yearning to be worthy. For so long, I’ve existed in a muddy contradiction: stubborn yet wanting to bend to appease others, independent yet craving approval, needy and somehow not needy enough.
I’ve managed to convince myself that as long as I’m working, striving, helping and giving, then I can compensate for my flaws and be worthy of the love of those around me.
Perhaps I was wrong. If he thinks my motives so simple and altruistic then he doesn’t know me at all.
“Now, grab on to my shoulders.” Ilryth releases my hand and puts his back to me, ignorant to the emotional murk he’s churned in my soul.
“Excuse me?”
“It’ll be easier, faster, and it’s no trouble to me.”
“Wouldn’t it be degrading as a duke to have someone ride on you like a dolphin?” My thought escapes me and not even the shell holds it back.
He glances over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, previously…but thank you for enlightening me on how you might perceive my kindness. Now, are you grabbing on or not?”
“Are you sure it’s all right if people see us touching?” I glance back to the estate. There are a few sirens darting about. But none seem to be paying much attention.
“This is a practical touch. Harmless. Not enough to deepen your connection to this plane. No one would care.” The way he says it makes me wonder if he’s working to convince himself, as much as me.
“I can swim on my own.”
“You are slow.”
“There’s no rush, is there?”
He turns to face me, folding his arms. “Do you always have this much trouble accepting help?”
“I’m trying to prevent us from getting in trouble.” I roll my eyes. “Forgive me for caring.”
“Don’t hide behind your compassion to conceal the fact that you just don’t want to feel indebted or vulnerable.”
“Excuse you.” I lean back and fold my own arms, as if I could protect the heart he’s trying to poke at. Making a bit of a mockery of his stance is a fringe benefit. “We are not analyzing me.” Even if he’s absolutely right.
“Victoria, you don’t have to hide.” He rests his fingertips gently on my forearm. “I understand.” The way he looks at me… “Leaders like us, those responsible for warriors or ship crews, can neverneedhelp. We’re the ones supposed to be helping others, aren’t we? Asking for help would mean imposing on the people we’re meant to protect—showing vulnerability when there can be none. We are ready to give everything, even our flesh and blood, if that’s what the cost is.”
The words are tender, introspective even, and they feel as much a critique of himself as of me. My hands twitch, wanting to retort in the same manner I would when defending myself from Charles. But as exposed as I am…I don’t feel defensive. Perhaps it’s because he is lumping himself with me in his assessment. Somehow, in this moment, I feel less…alone.
“There are worse things than sacrificing yourself,” I say softly.
“Of course there are,” he agrees with ease. “But you don’t have to.”
“Don’t I though?” I grin and give a small shrug. Ilryth opens his mouth, as if to object, but then closes it when he rightly thinks better of it.
“You really are something else.” He chuckles and shakes his head, as if he can’t believe it, either. “Fine. Around me, just you and I, you don’t have to sacrifice everything. As you are is more than enough.” Ilryth gives me one last warm smile and then puts his back to me again. Waiting.
