Jasyn snuck a peek outside the window, where it was still daylight. They left a few hours earlier at Esi’s request.
They weren’t at the castle, though, and Esi was calling for the carriage to stop.
“What is happening?” Mych asked.
Jasyn would like to know too, but Esi was practically jumping outside the carriage and yanking on Jasyn’s arm to follow her.
He stumbled out, and he had to blink to adjust to the light.
“Where are we?”
“Hurry,” Esi only called back to him. He could hear Mych and Bron’s footsteps behind them, and Jasyn was very aware how he must look to the townspeople: frantic and confused. Not the image he was trying to exude, but he had to follow his future wife through the streets.
He caught up to Esi right as they turned a corner, and Jasyn’s heart stilled at the sight.
Iskra was there, sitting on the ground as she leaned against a shop wall. Her knees were folded in so she had a place to set a parchment, and from this angle, he could clearly see her handwriting. She was focused, her eyes narrowed in on whatever words she needed to let out. It was painful to see her again. Her hair no longer matched Esi’s inky locks, instead a deep shade of brown-red. In the sunlight, it almost looked like a dark flame.
Having both Esi and Iskra there made him wonder how he ever thought they were the same person. Yes, when they had the same hair, their features were similar, but looking at Iskra was like being in a meadow of flowers. It was overwhelming. Every inch was beautiful, and it was hard to focus on one thing. Iskra’s nose sloped a bit higher than Esi’s. Her freckles were more pronounced. The way she viewed the world was like seeing it for the first time. She clearly wasn’t a well-traveled or experienced woman like Lady Esi. Yet, the compulsion to get on his knees was still there. He wanted to crawl to her, to cradle her in his arms. He had to fist his hands to stop himself.
“Why are we here?”
His words snapped Iskra’s attention to him, and her face blanched.
Esi pushed him forward slightly. “You owe yourself—owe each other—a goodbye. I have no doubts your promise to remain loyal to me is true, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have the chance to at least close this door so you can live in our marriage with a settled heart.”
Jasyn bit his tongue, wanting to yell that he didn’t need this right now, but Iskra had gotten up, and she was just staring and staring at him. He could read the regret on her face, could see the shaking of her hands gripping that parchment.
“Go,” Esi whispered.
Slone spare him, he did.
Iskra didn’t move from her spot. She was letting him control the scene. It only took him a few strides to be right in front of her, so close, she had to crane her neck slightly just to look at him.
He wanted to wrap his hand around the back of her neck, bring her close, kiss her until he was dizzy with the fill of her, until he forgot everything except for the way she made him feel.
He kept the small distance between them instead.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was weary, nervous.
He licked his teeth, hating that the words affected him. He should be unruffled. After all, this woman lied to him. Everything between them was a lie, and the time they shared meant nothing. She was playing a part.
“I understand if you want nothing from me, if you don’t want to hear a word from my mouth ever again.” She extended the paper towards him. “I wrote this. You can read or burn it. It’s your choice.”
He stared at the paper too long. Taking it was a choice. Ignoring it was one too. The paper was in his hands before he could even register he had taken it from her.
“You’re a good person, Jasyn. You’ll make a great king, one who is not blinded by desire. Let your light shine so you can win this.” She leaned forward with her arm out, slowly, giving him a moment to pull back. He didn’t. Her hand was on his chest, right over his heart. “You have taken my heart. Let it come alive. It is now only here to serve you.”
Jasyn narrowed his eyes. It sounded like she was swearing fealty, and it made him squirm. It wasn’t right. In the deepest pits of his heart, she was the woman in his bed each night.
“Thank you for everything, Iskra.”
They were the only words he could offer, but they conveyed exactly what he needed. She had changed him in such a short time, given him the confidence and courage to believe if hewon the crown, he could be a good ruler. If he did win the Undertaking, he would be sure to come back here and thank her again.
“Iskra!” a voice yelled from inside one of the shops.
Iskra flinched, and it made him want to investigate the source of the noise. Who had caused Iskra such fear that she couldn’t take the sound of their voice?
As if she read his thoughts, she shook her head.
