He shrugged. ‘I’m no stranger to my uncle flexing his will. And as you once said, Aya, it isn’t particularly helpful to wish for things that cannot be.’
Like choices they did not have because of their duties.
‘Besides,’ Aidon continued, ‘there are far worse matches, wouldn’t you say?’ He grinned at her, but the gesture didn’t quite meet his eyes.
‘You deserve a choice.’ She needed him to hear it. She needed them both to hear it.
‘As do you. For now, we have more pressing matters. Josie needs me. Let’s take it up at Genemai, yeah? Save me a dance?’ The Birth of Magic festival was less than a fortnight away.
He rapped the armoire once, and was already turning to go when she called him back. ‘Would the chance of an alliance swayyou?’
His brown eyes were unreadable as they searched hers.
‘I don’t know,’ was all he said before he closed the door behind him.
55
Will sank beneath the surface of the water, letting the scalding heat bite his skin. He could wash away the blood that coated his arms and the ash that clung to his skin, but he could not rid himself of the words she had uttered to Josie in that room.
Gianna intends for me to match with your brother.
His rage was a living thing, boiling him from the inside out.
It didn’t matter where Aya was, or what she learned to do with her power. She belonged to the queen, and Gianna would never release that which was hers.
Just like Gianna would always own him too.
Will finished his bath and padded to the bar cart, fully content to forgo a glass and down the whole damn bottle, but he paused, the neck mere inches from his lips as he felt that tug deep within him; the one that told him he wasn’t where he was supposed to be.
He lowered the bottle slowly, letting his head fall against the wall. He’d barely kept himself in check an hour ago. He couldn’t go to her now – not with his emotions pounding through him so intensely. He was used to feeling; had never been afraid of the sensations, either others’ or his own. Butthis… this intensity felt like it might consume him. Like he was out in the waters that roared against the cliffs, and if he didn’t master whatever this was, he would surely drown.
Will cursed as he set down the bottle and went back to her room.
He knew exactly where he’d find her: on the balcony,staring at the waves. And by the looks of it, she’d been doing just that since they’d left. She stood with her arms folded tightly around her, her dirt-flecked white dress blowing in the wind. He leaned against the doorframe, letting the sea breeze wash over him as he simply took her in.
‘Do you think this is what she wanted?’ she called to him, sensing his presence without him saying a word. And despite the hells they were in, his mouth twitched at that. But any hint of a grin faded as he took in the curve of her shoulders and the white marks on her arms as she gripped herself tighter.
‘Come inside.’
She glanced over her shoulder, and his heart gave a vicious twist at the bleakness in her face. He watched her chest rise and fall in time to the waves, tracing every breath as she tried to steady herself. His affinity reached out instinctively – to calm, to soothe – even though he knew he’d meet nothing. He’d never realized how constant her presence was until it was gone; how much her essence sank into his very being. Even in those times she’d held her shield, he’d still been able to feelherbeneath it.
‘Come inside,’ he repeated, his voice rough. He wondered if she could sense the plea in his words.
Aya pushed herself off the balustrade and crossed the terrace, pausing for a beat as she passed him in the threshold. Her shoulder brushed against him, her eyes flicking across his face. But she stayed coiled in on herself, so he kept his distance as he led the way into the bathroom. He nodded to the lip of the tub as he turned on the faucet and grabbed a washcloth from the rack of towels beside it. Aya perched on the edge, staring unseeingly in front of her. Will tested the water with his wrist before dunking the washcloth beneath it.
Then he kneeled before her, gently taking one of her armsin his hands and unraveling it from the vice grip she kept on herself. Her eyes moved to him, watching as he ran the washcloth up the length of her arm in long, soothing strokes. He washed the dirt and blood from her, his hands steady despite the pounding in his chest. He moved to her other arm, working in silence as her breath settled into a deeper rhythm, the muscles in her shoulders relaxing.
Her eyes fluttered closed as he cupped her face, gently wiping the streaks of dirt and ash from her cheeks. He ran the washcloth across her forehead, then to the back of her neck, letting the cool water soothe her in a way he couldn’t. She let her head drop, her forehead pressing against his, her shaky exhale brushing across his lips.
Will swallowed against the roaring inside of him.
He dropped the cloth into the tub with a wet slap, and she snapped her head up as he backed away and settled against the sink. For a few long moments, they stared at each other, Aya gripping the edge of the tub hard enough that her knuckles went white.
‘So?’ she finally asked, her voice quivering slightly.
‘So what?’
‘Do you think this match is what she wants?’
