Ilryth holds no judgment. He listens with quiet, earnest fascination. I admit to the bad times as freely as I describe the good. Hiding nothing is freeing.
“Then…” I pause, squinting slightly, as if I could cut through the murk of my mind to find memories that have long since been consumed by magic not meant for mortal understanding. “I was eighteen, barely… I still have a memory of my birthday celebrations for that year… I went into the market. Something about lighthouses… It becomes fuzzy.” I shake my head. “After that there’s a large swath of my life that’s just gone. The next point I can remember is tumbling in the water that night. Then, standing on the beach, alone, staring at the lighthouse. Twenty and—”Married. I glance at Ilryth to see if he heard the rogue thought.
“And?” His face betrays nothing. I can’t tell if he heard or not.
“And I had markings on my arm. I’ve kept most of the memory of meeting you,” I say brightly.
“Surprised you chose to keep that traumatic night.” The faintest blush highlights the barely-there freckles of his cheeks. “Do you remember anything else of him?”
“I remember going to court… It took me years to let him go,” I say softly. “I only just managed to right before you took me…that was why my family was in such debt.”
“You owed money because of a relationship?”
“That’s right…”How can I keep myself from admitting the full truth, while still not outright lying?All I want is to preserve some of the esteem Ilryth has for me. “I helped him at the lighthouse. The council said I had to repay what Tenvrath invested in me for my time as an attendant. Almost everything in Tenvrath can be bought and sold. It’s why the highest crime is owing money you can’t pay. At the lighthouse, I was supported by the taxes of the people. They demanded I pay back that debt and if I didn’t they’d—”
“Send you, or your family in your place, to that horrible debtors’ prison you mentioned.” He frowns. “I remember.”
All my muscles are tense. I grip the railing under me with white knuckles. I can’t remember what happened during those two years with Charles. They’re as empty as the Abyss beneath me. And yet, my throat is tight. My breaths catch. I feel as if I want to fight, or run…weep or scream. My body remembers what my mind has readily forgotten.
“Victoria…” Ilryth touches my hand, leaning toward me. “What is it?”
I don’t notice my eyes are burning until I look at him. I imagine they’re red and puffy. Tears cannot fall in the ocean, but eyes can burn, mouths can twist.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I can’t remember anything. I don’t know why I feel like I want to burn the world down around me.”
Ilryth’s lips part slightly. He seems to lean closer. “It’s all right.”
“I know. I—Even if it’s not, it doesn’t matter, right?” I shake my head. “All this will be over soon, anyway. It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters.”
“Why?”
“Because everything, good and bad, is a part of who you are. It might not define you, but it informs you. Teaches you. We fought, and struggled, and bled to get this far in life. And while I wish you never had to suffer as I fear you might have…if you did, that, too, is part of the Victoria I admire.”
“Perhaps I don’t want it to be a part of me,” I murmur, lowering my eyes. “I might not remember the memories, but I can remember choosing to remove them first. Perhaps I am better for it. There’s a strange comfort to this unknowing. Wiping out what I can only assume are the worst parts of myself.”
“It’s not just what you think are ‘worst parts.’ It will all go,” he says gravely, looking out over the Abyss. The thought is spoken so quickly that I don’t know if he intended for it to come out or not. But he doesn’t backtrack.
“What… What do you mean?” The sentiment mirrors a terrified wondering I had weeks ago.
“You must severalltethers to the mortal world. One day, soon, you will forget it all. Not just the bad, but the good. You can’t choose forever what you want to keep.” He doesn’t look at me as he speaks. It’s somehow worse. This truth is so horrible, he can’t even face me.
“I’ll forget…everything?” Emily’s embrace. The smell of the wind on my first sailing. The taste of my father’s ale. How the stars shone the first night I taught Jivre how to navigate by them. The feeling of the fine silks my mother would bring home, gliding between my fingers.
“It’s the only way.”
“How fast will it happen now?” Panic is rising in me. There’s only two months left before the solstice. I realize that I’d allowed myself to believe I could keep the parts of me I wanted. Maybe notall, but at least a few… I replay every bright spot in my life, imprinting it on my heart, as though I could physically hold onto memories that have no shape or form.
“Much faster, now. When my mother arrived at the Duchy of Faith…she couldn’t recognize my sisters and I within the month.”
I lean back, reeling. They’d told me what I was doing—what had to be done. But I never took it to the logical conclusion.
I will be a shell. A husk. I—
My panic is interrupted as Ventris swims into the quarters with two warriors in tow. His presence reminds me that he could’ve been listening to our conversation this entire time. Even though Ilryth said this space should be safe, the mere idea of him knowing about my family, about Charles, my fears and all those ugly and hidden parts of me that I only wanted to show Ilryth, would be a violation I’d never forgive Ventris for.
Though, Ilryth’s and my hands were touching the entire time. Perhaps it wasn’t an accident or a sweet sentiment on Ilryth’s behalf—he was trying to ensure our discussions were private. He’s shifted before Ventris can notice the contact.
