Seeing him like that had been like stepping onto a thin sheet of ice. The ominous creaking. The feathered veins. The certainty that she would step wrong, that the ice would crack and break and plunge her world into blackness. All it had taken was one devastated look from Venick and she had been ready to tell him everything. Her secrets. Her reasons.
Ellina moved from her writing desk to the bedroom window. Outside, the sky was a muted grey. She gazed up at the clouds and thought of snow: that white nothingness, the simple unknowing. She felt a stab of jealousy.
Ridiculous, for her to be jealous of the clouds. And misguided. Ellina did not truly wish for that kind of numbness. She needed this pain, because it was a reminder of everything that had been taken from her, and everything that might be taken still.
She stepped away from the window. A small washbasin of warm water had been set by her bedside. It was refilled twice a day by a servant Ellina never saw. Though her hands were not dirty, she dipped her fingers into the steaming water. Mist swirled around her wrists.
Maybe Venick hated her. Maybe it hurt to think of his hatred. But he was alive, was he not? He was free. And for now at least, he was out of Farah’s reach. These things Ellina could be grateful for. As for Venick’s hatred…Ellina still clung to the idea that if the resistance won, she would have a chance to explain everything.I am sorry, she would tell him.I never wanted to hurt you, she would tell him. The imagining gave her hope, and yet…
It could be years before the war was won. Even if Ellina was given the chance to explain herself to Venick, would he listen?
By the time he learned the truth, would it be too late?
???
There were other memories. Little moments, random conversations between them. Ellina remembered the way Venick spoke her language: fluently, with only the hint of an accent. She remembered the way his mouth tended to lift at the corners. His winter eyes, always on her. Ellina did not mean to allow these memories to rule her, but they were all she had.
Until the night she had her first dream.
Elves did not dream, not like humans did. Yet as Ellina dipped to sleep one night, shesawthings. Not a memory. Not a recollection. This was nothing that had ever happened before.
She saw herself curled in Venick’s arms. They lay on a grassy slope overlooking a deep valley. The sky was wide open, the weather warm and dry. Springtime, or maybe summer. Ellina could smell the soap Venick had used to bathe. His scruff tickled her cheek as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.I am yours, he said,as long as you’ll have me.
She turned in his arms. She wanted to see his face. His lips parted under her gaze.
Well, Ellina? Will you have me?
She startled awake in her bed. The room was dark. She was breathing too heavily. Afraid.
And then, more afraid when the dream slid from her mind. Was it normal for dreams to disappear so quickly? She tried to hold onto the vision. She clung to its wispy threads, but too late. Already, the dream was gone.
???
The palace’s main dining hall was full of elves when Ellina arrived the following morning. Farah had sent word with a servant that they would take their breakfast there today rather than in the queen’s private chambers. The letter had simply instructed that Ellina arrive at the appointed time. It had not stated a reason.
The atmosphere in the hall was lazy that morning as soldiers and servants slowly waked, lounging in cushioned chairs at any one of the hall’s three long tables, cupping their tea and talking of small things. Ellina scanned the room, noting the elves she knew: a few senators, several guards. And one legionnaire.
Kaji watched Ellina from his seat across the room. Aside from Raffan, Kaji was the last of her troopmates to remain in the city. The elder elf met her eye, then looked pointedly down the table.
To where Raffan was sitting. He too watched Ellina. His face remained carefully impassive as she came to claim the chair across from him, rather than the one to his right—the one meant for his bondmate. Raffan had watched Ellina do this many times now, but said nothing. Their bondmating had been ordered by Queen Rishiana, and Rishiana was gone. Though this did not absolve Ellina and Raffan of their duty, the only elf who could enforce their bonding now was Farah, and Farah had shown little interest in doing so.
“You are late,” Raffan muttered. “Farah is unhappy.”
Ellina unfolded a cloth napkin from the table and set it in her lap. She smoothed the fabric over her thighs, searching the room for her sister, but Farah was nowhere. “That is an interesting trick,” Ellina commented, “for my sister to know that I am late, and feel unhappy over it, when she herself is not even here.”
“That is not what I meant.”
There was a pause. Raffan was waiting for Ellina to ask,Then why is Farah unhappy?so that he could drag out his answer, and watch Ellina twist under the knife of whatever information he had that she did not. It was a move she had seen Raffan use on others. One that put him in a position of power.
“Well,” Ellina said instead, “whatever the reason,youshould be able to assuage her.”
Raffan threw her a sharp look. After the stateroom battle, Ellina had accused Farah of loving Raffan. Though she was no longer sure if it was true—she had seen no more affection between them since that day—her words seemed to touch a nerve. Raffan’s mood soured. “Youvan reports that things did not go according to plan in the city.”
“Farah and I have already spoken about that.” Ellina had given her sister the same story she had given Youvan, and Youvan—apparently unwilling to make a fool of himself twice—had confirmed it.
“You spoke with another elf,” Raffan said.
“As Farah instructed.”
