Ozias holds my gaze, but I feel as if he’s watching me through fogged glass. “I’m still working on that.”
My jaw clenches, nerves firing along my bones. “I’m continually inspired by your confidence,” I say, hoping to bring back some levity.
His mouth quirks into an easy smile, some of the clouds disappearing from his expression. “One step at a time. With how slowly this is going, though, we’ll have plenty of time together to come up with an inspiring idea.”
The longer this takes, the riskier it is for Ninon and all the others. What if Kalixta doesn’t have an elahi? My mother? Who else is at risk that I know? I adjust my septum piercing and shake my hands, trying not to linger on his words. “Your selfless dedication might outshine your confidence.”
He picks up where he left off pacing my form. “I do what I have to.”
I think that’s the sincerest statement I’ve heard from him yet, and I’d do well to remember it.
When Ozias releases me, I rest in the room I’ve been given until it’s early evening, the dusk near enough I can smell it on the air—a cool moisture, a shifting wind bringing in the salt from the distant sea. The Alcazar is quiet. By now, most people have gathered for supper or else are off preparing for the night. I’m passing the staircase that leads up to Alcazar’s highest rooms when I hear low conversation travel down the steps. I slow as I recognize the voices. I press against a wall and make myself small as I hear my name on Ozias’s lips.
“Have you spoken with Kaisa?”
“No, she was still resting. I didn’t want to disturb her before it was absolutely necessary,” Atlanta answers.
Ozias hums and silence follows. I dare not breathe. I’m not foolish enough to believe I’m not spoken of when my presence is absent. Still, it sets me on edge to hear it all the same.
“I’m worried, Ozias,” Atlanta says. Their words are soft now, at complete odds with how they spoke with one another when I last saw them together.
“Why am I not surprised,” Ozias replies, a tease in his tone.
“You said yourself, their bond potential is powerful. I worry, especially with her inexperience, that it might be easy for her to be…swayed by it.”
“She won’t.”
I don’t blame Atlanta for worrying, but it’s unfounded. I’m only glad Ozias believes in me.
“You can’t know that,” Atlanta shoots back.
“She already despises him. There’s no getting around that after she’s learned all that he’s done to her and her people.”
“Zhoric isn’t only what he’s done. She has a good heart, Ozias. She will see that.”
I tense and cast my gaze up the stairs, even though I know I can’t see anything. What more can there be to the man they claim has done such horrors to my people?
“I’m aware,” he says, voice deepening.
An inhale, soft and steady. Atlanta’s, I think. “It’s too much of a risk to have that happen.”
“I realize that,” Ozias retorts.
“Has there been any indication she’s seen him?”
A pause, then, “No.”
“Ozias.” His name comes out terse and knowing.
“She mentioned a bad dream.”
My heart skips a beat and I bite the side of my cheek.
“Did you ask her about it?”
“I didn’t want to pry.”
“Pry. If she’s mind walking, we have to know. We canalways go back to the original plan.”
