He turns to look at me, and I stare at my hands.
“Did you get any supplies?”
I shake my head.
He sighs heavily. “Of course not.”
“I’m so sorry. I just…it’s like I got out there and lost my mind.” I wring my hands in agitation, a movement that’sdefinitelynot like me. I have to do something with my hands, or I’m going to lose control and burst into tears or something equally embarrassing. “I don’tdothat kind of thing. I never?—”
Kalos lifts a hand into the air, silencing me. “We won’t discuss it.”
“I just want you to know I’m deeply sorry that I kissed you,” I blurt out. “It will never happen again, I swear.”
His mouth flattens as our eyes meet. “Good. Fine.”
“I know it’s not what I was brought here for?—”
“Didn’t I just say we wouldn’t discuss it?”
“Right. Sorry.”
We stare at each other in the silence, and my skin prickles with discomfort. Meekly, I get to my feet and head for our packs in the corner. I shoo Dingle off the first one and pull it to me. “I think I’ll just do inventory on what we have. Do you think the party will be finished tomorrow?”
“No,” he says, and he sounds utterly weary. “It’s going to go on for as long as Gental is here. Like I said, he’s hedonism. He’s going to infect all of them with his relentless pursuit of pleasure. This place will be a mess until he goes.”
Oh.Oh.
Is that why I kissed Kalos and partied in the streets? I’m so stupid. He said that Apathy affects everyone around him, so why not hedonism? “I’m sorry,” I say again. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“No,” is all he says, voice sour. “You weren’t. Now do you see why I wanted to leave right away?”
I nod, miserable. I get it now. I pick at the ties on the pack, hating that we’re trapped in this room together. I can’t even escape to someplace quiet and wallow in my shame. I must sit here and stare at Kalos and think about our kiss.
I… can’t.
“I think I’ll go downstairs and talk to the innkeeper. See if we can buy some supplies from him and get out of here sooner.” I jump to my feet and race to the door before Kalos can say anything else.
Maybe in a few hours, he’ll have forgotten all of this.
Maybe in a few hours, I will have, too. Something tells me it’s going to take longer than that, though. Every time I close my eyes, I think of how stiff and unyielding he was underneath my mouth, and I die a little more inside.
The next morning,I’m awoken by a knock at the door. I sit up in bed, eyeing Kalos. He’s seated by the window, staring out through the rippled glass as if it holds the secrets of the universe. He doesn’t move or even acknowledge the door.
I fight a yawn. “Should I get that?”
“I don’t know. Should you?” His tone is bored.
Right. I scrub a hand over my face. The knock comes again, this time far more insistent. I climb out of bed, keeping the blanket around my shoulders as a makeshift cloak and open the door a crack.
The innkeeper is there, a powerful expression of distaste on his face. He flicks his gaze over me and steps back. “This is them. The ones with the goat.”
“Is something wrong?” I ask as another man steps forward.He looks to be an unlikely messenger, with thick, messy hair and a potbelly under a wine-and-food-stained tunic.There’s a scarf over the lower half of his face, like a mask.
The new man has a hefty pack in his arms, and he holds it out to me. “I come from Gental’s camp with a message. You need to leave.”
“I’m…sorry? I’m not following.” I eye the pack he holds out to me.
He nudges it in my direction, and as he does, I see a few more men behind him. They wear pale yellow sashes crosswise over their chests, a clear show of allegiance. Unlike the man standing in front of me, they’re covered in armor and have swords strapped at their waists. As I watch, one puts his hand on the pommel as if daring me to act out. They’re wearing scarves over the lower halves of their faces as well. Is this some sort of Gental thing?
