“Is that so?” Eira pointedly asked. “And what does this future look like?”
Olivin’s palm landed on her face, firm. Demanding with only a touch. “Paradise. Revelries and power. A new world order beyond simply sailing wherever the wind blow us. We will be the headwind, the north star, the aspiration and the envy.”
“I could grow accustomed to power.” Eira tilted her head, looking up through her lashes.
“You should be well accustomed as it is, given your might.” There was nothing but admiration in his eyes.
“It’s not enough.” To defeat Ulvarth, she still needed to become so much more.
“Then I look forward to seeing what you will become.” Olivin’s arm snaked around her waist, his scent and heat overwhelming. The way he looked at her now crashed upon her like the hottest day of summer, the temperature of her core rising. Nearly unbearable. “I will have you, if you’ll let me.”
“I am yours for the taking.”
No sooner had she whispered the words, he spun her, pushing her up against a bookcase. One hand on her waist, his hips pressing against hers. The other on her face, thumb dragging across her lips before he claimed them and the rest of the world vanished, taking her former worries with it. It was like the first gasp after emerging from beneath the waves. It was acrackthat ripped through her body, trembling through her. He kissed her deeply, passionately, as if trying to scare away all the panicked thoughts that had threatened to consume her for weeks.
Escape with me, every shift of his mouth seemed to whisper.Let me take you far from here—far from your body.
Eira’s muscles relaxed and she eased farther into him. Without warning, he pulled away, looking right through her. A sly smirk slid across his lips. Perhaps…she had been the one to say those words—to think them, will them into existence.
“Eira—”
“I don’t want to be able to walk straight, never mind speak or think,” she whispered, words ragged.
“Good.”
Hands frantic, clothing suddenly far too cumbersome for either of their liking, they grabbed and pulled until there was nothing left that would keep them apart. Olivin pushed her up, her rear sliding over the wide counter-shelf a third of the way up the bookcase. He traced her lips with his fingers, then the outlines of her curves.
Tremors rippled through her in anticipation. Her skin flushed. The space between them collapsed with a gasp that wrapped into a moan. This was it…what she’d been waiting for. That blissful mindlessness that smothered all other worries and fears.
For the rest of the night, Eira allowed herself to trade her worries for passion, escaping the thoughts that continued to gnaw a hole in her chest, unbidden.
10
When morning broke, she was alone. Olivin’s absence didn’t sting and she spent her entire time dressing for the day wondering if it should. Wondering if it meant anything that it didn’t.
Their evening activities had been good. She’d wanted—needed it. Satisfying like a well-earned meal. Now she was full, and could focus on the day.
Which led her back to Qwint’s hall of government.
Eira followed Lavette down the hallway between the rings of chairs that led to the center of the Hall of Ministers. Her other friends had been relegated to the balcony mezzanine that circled the room. Fortunately, so far as she could tell, her parents weren’t in attendance. Eira wasn’t sure if she’d ever see them again and was oddly comfortable with the notion. She genuinely could wish them well while simultaneously not ever needing them again.
Lavette exuded confidence. Eira suspected that, unlike her own appearance, Lavette’s was genuine. She had nothing to fear here.
Eira, on the other hand…her fate, and the fate of her friends, of Meru and possibly this whole swath of the world, was about to be decided.
The center of the room was bathed in dawn’s muted glow. It cast everything in a gray, almost somber tone.
Dozens of eyes were fixated on her, above and below. Some had mild curiosity, others didn’t even bother to expend effort to hide their disapproval. Eira took a breath as she moved into position on a steel ring that circled before the lowest rung of chairs, but outside the circular pedestal where the three head ministers stood—Morova among them. Lavette had given her a primer on what to expect, but that didn’t stop her from feeling somewhat like she was on trial once more.
The bell behind her chimed.
“We call this meeting of the Hall of Ministers into session,” High Minister Uhn said. Eira’s snooping in Lavette’s late father’s office last night had served her well in offering the broad strokes of people and positions. “The first matter is brought before us by Morova.”
As the last echoes of the elderly man’s voice faded, Morova stepped forward.
“I bring forward a matter on behalf of my niece, Lavette D’astre. I yield my time to her to present her case.”
Lavette stepped before Eira with confidence. Every movement seemed practiced and trained. When she spoke, it was without a second of hesitation.
