‘Hey Rosey.’ Ruben’s soft eyes look at me as he scratches at his stubble. ‘You got a minute?’
I smile. ‘Sure. I didn’t know if I’d get a chance to see you before I left …’
‘Bet you thought you’d sneak off to claim great victory and power without even saying goodbye, right?’ He shakes his head as if he’s annoyed, but it doesn’t dim the smile on his lips. ‘I knew you were only ever using me for my warmth.’
I laugh and raise an eyebrow. ‘And do we want to talk about what you were using me for?’
He smirks and lowers his voice. ‘A gentleman never tells.’ The smilefades then, and his expression grows uncharacteristically serious. ‘I’ve got a gift for you.’
‘For me?’ I ask dumbly.
‘For one of our own,’ he says solemnly, repeating the words that were sprayed across the walls of the slum buildings almost immediately after the guards’ announcement yesterday morning, next to my initials.
The best graffiti I’ve seen was a thorny rose wrapped around the High Hold in triumph.
When I feel uncertain, I’ll picture that image in my mind.
Last night food was placed by our door. More food than I could ever eat, gifted for me to gain my strength before I enter the Retterheld. Just thinking of their kindness makes me want to weep.
Ruben reaches for his wrist and unfastens a thin bracelet with a single bead the size of a thumbnail. At first glance, it appears to be made of ordinary glass, but I quickly realise it’s far more than that. Magic has been physically channelled into the item, the swirling iridescent reds and yellows writhing with trapped power.
‘What is it?’ I ask as he holds it out to me.
‘A fire bead. It’s a one-shot thing though, I’m afraid. You throw it at the ground, and whatever is there will catch light.’
I gape, my jaw dropping in pure disbelief. Ruben’s giving memagic?
He winks. ‘Make sure you don’t light it on a patch of ice, all right? Make it count.’
I take the bracelet in my hand and find myself at a loss for words, too mesmerised by the slight hum that fizzes through my skin where it touches the bead.
‘This isn’t just from me,’ Ruben rushes to add. ‘It’s from the slums. From all of us.’
‘The slums,’ I say, finally drawing my eyes away to look at him. ‘They’ve already given me so much. Too much.’
He nods. ‘People want to help give you a chance. Let’s be honest. We all know this kingdom would be a whole lot better if it were someone like you, and not Korvane’s narcissistic offspring, who wins.’
A coil of nerves twists in my stomach. Never, in all our nights together, has Ruben ever mentioned any disdain for the kingdom, and certainly not the king and his son. It would be treasonous. The fact that he’s risking this with me now, it’s … it’s terrifying, yet it also causes a rush of relief to roll through me. I might be on my own in there, but I’ll have people rooting for meon the outside, and that matters.One of us.One of the outcasts, the downtrodden. Yes, I’m one of them all right. They taught me what it takes to survive, and I’m not going to forget that now.
I clip the bracelet around my wrist, then wrap my arms around Ruben’s torso. I’m not hugging him for his warmth now, nor to hide my loneliness the way I usually do. I hold him simply because I want to hold him as tightly as possible. It feels like my heart might burst with gratitude. I will do my damnedest to be worthy of his gift.
‘I have been very lucky to have a friend like you, Ruben,’ I choke out when we break apart.
He mock-winces. ‘Ouch. Friend-zoned just like that.’
I punch him lightly. ‘Maybe, but you’re a damned good friend to have.’
He rubs his shoulder as if I hadn’t pulled my punch. ‘Be gentle with me, Kultavaris. I’m not as deadly as you.’
I snort at his antics, then sober. ‘I really am so grateful. This … it could save my life.’
‘I hope it does.’ He pauses awkwardly. ‘Well, I should go. Leave you to it.’
He turns to leave but I grab him by the shoulder.
‘Wait. I need to ask something of you. Something more,’ I add, glancing down at the bead around my wrist. ‘When I’m gone?—’
‘You want me to keep an eye on Kay?’ he finishes before I can. ‘You don’t even need to ask.’
