“I just need to pinpoint where in the prison my brother is,” Sachia said, voice churning.
“My lead sentinel will find him,” Vaasa said. “I promise.”
That was all the information she gave, confusion and shame burrowing into her body at the pieces of Roman’s identity that she kept hidden. She just needed to speak the truth to Reid first.
Sachia’s eyes glistened at the edges. “We won’t need Karev, then?”
“No, we won’t.”
The pirate gave a slight smile. “Thank you.”
Vaasa wondered how many years Sachia had been beholden to the whims of these Asteryan lords. What deals she had made to survive, and what they had cost her. In that way, Vaasa and Sachia were shockingly similar. “You’re welcome. Do you still have access to the black powder you smuggled in?”
Sachia frowned, but it was Koen who spoke next. A small thrill laced his tone. “You have a plan to use it?”
Vaasa gave a sharp nod. “The night of the engagement party.”
Koen leaned forward, a conspiratorial gleam in his eye that brought a smile to Vaasa’s lips. “Tell me everything.”
Vaasa woke with a start, her mind not entirely registering where she was. Yet the moment she smelled salt and amber, she knew. Reid’s chest was pressed to her back like it had been for so many nights in Mireh and Dihrah, before she’d ever given in to her desire of him, and for just a moment, she allowed herself to revel in it. They slept on the couch in her family’s apartment, a blanket warming their bodies. The others had gone back to the fabric shop, but Reid had stayed. Her magic leaked onto her hands as her throat tightened. How many nights had she wished for this? How many times had she shivered on the floor of the Mekës prison picturing herself just as she was now? Safe. Warm. Loved.
She took in the lightless rugs, how no rays of early morning sun broke through the curtains, and let out a small breath of relief. The stillness of the night drenched every corner of the apartment, and the fire continued, a churning red and orange glow visible in the coals. Burned, but not out. Vaasa gingerly turned in Reid’s arms, prepared to bury her face into the crook of his neck and just lie there, when she felt him stir. His eyes opened softly and met hers.
“You should sleep more,” Reid whispered, his hand stroking her side. Touching her with reckless abandon, perhaps simply because he could. “It’s only been a few hours.”
“I don’t sleep well at night,” she confessed.
It was a jagged truth. The hours between midnight and dawn made her restless. She couldn’t remember the last time she hadslept soundly through them. There was such tender worry in the crease between his brows.
The sight of it summoned something unfamiliar in Vaasa, and despite herself, tears sprang to her eyes. She’d grown up in an apathetic city; no warmth lingered here. So when she looked upon comfort, she still didn’t entirely know what to do. That much of her hadn’t changed. She remembered the false words she’d spun to Roman in the prison, the subtle insinuation that she wanted him, and all the lies she told added up to a dagger at her own neck.
Roman’s betrayal wounded her somewhere deep. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that he’d been working for Lord Vlacik—that he’d been in Mekës before Vaasa had even left for Icruria. No matter what he claimed, it meant he’d only come back in pursuit of her throne.
After he’d been sent to the northern Asteryan border, the memories of him had become dark around the edges—she’d forced them to be. But there were times she had taken solace in the idea that even here in Mekës, a glimmer of love could be found. She’d clung to it, and he’d proven her wrong.
She squeezed her lids shut to try and dismiss her impending tears, but they wouldn’t leave. The weight of sadness racked her ribcage, and the resilience she’d tried to carry started to chip away.
It wasn’t that she loved him. It was that the final piece of brightness here had turned against her, had twisted into something terrible.
“Let it out,” Reid whispered while his hand skimmed up and down her side in a subtle attempt to calm her.
One rogue tear slid down her cheek. She hated that she felt this way. Her magic churned with the ferocity of the Iron Bay, like waves curling in on themselves and crashing against her insides.
“Reid, I need to tell you something,” she whispered into the dark.
He was still beside her, but not rigid. “Then tell me.”
“I told you once of a man I loved when I was younger, a man Dominik had killed.”
Reid let out a breath. “Roman.”
“Yes,” she said reluctantly. She sat up just a bit, her hair falling around her face as she met his gaze. “He’s… alive. He’s my lead sentinel. He was working for Vlacik, for those pirates.”
Reid didn’t move. He only stared up at her, never breaking their gaze. And then he said, “Back home in Mireh, I would have waited years more to have you. There were only two things that would have ended my pursuit. If you told me you did not love me, or if you told me you loved someone else.”
Vaasa’s throat tightened to the point of pain, the ball of her emotions lodged there. Another tear slid over her cheek.
“So tell me now, because I value your truth, and because I always want you to live in it. I am not a man you ever need to lie to.”
