Excitement threads through me as I close my eyes. I use my mind like a paintbrush, first with broad strokes and sweeping colors. My magic pulls painfully taut behind my heart as my creation begins to take shape, as I go back in with smaller strokes, dappling in light and blending in shadows until I see every intricate detail. My magic winds tighter with every added bit of precision, until my entire body seems to pulse with it.
Then with a loosed breath, I push the painting outside of myself.
When I open my eyes, I let out a whooping cry of victory at the small gladius laying in my palms. The same one I lost over the edge of the balcony, with a few added improvements.
“I did it!” I shout, jumping up and wielding the sword with a peal of laughter. I prance forward with a playful jab into the air. “I really did it!”
“Without sucking anyone into the ground!” Sam grins proudly.
I grin back, feeling absurdly light. Like if I were to step off the balcony, I could fly straight to the second star. Because for once, it wasn’t devastation or ruin I brought to life—but something beautiful.
“I’m trying to be supportive here, but I’ve been at this for half a century and can still barely paint a tree.” He motions half-heartedly to his painting. “You could have taken pity on me, and at leastpretendedto be bad at this for longer than five seconds.”
I laugh, settling back down beside him. “If you need a pick-me-up, you should teach me to sing next. I can’t carry a tune to save my life, and I don’t think Letum’s magic is enough to change that.”
Sam chuckles. “I’ll leave that one to Niko.”
Together, Sam and I spend the afternoon creating terrible paintings and ordering increasingly ridiculous snacks from the Lunaedon kitchen. He tells me of his time aboard the Indomnitus as Niko’s first mate, his voice filled with longing as he recounts their various adventures and the many different seas they sailed together.
Tiernan returns sometime after the sky has begun to fully darken, and after declaring he would rather perish than sit still long enough to paint anything, we abandon the canvases in favor of cards and a dusty bottle of rum.
We laugh into the late hours of the evening; until my belly actually aches with it. And for once, I don’t worry that my enjoyment will be something I’ll have to eventually let go. I justlet my contentment settle warmly in my stomach alongside the shimmer of my magic.
Hours after I’ve finally retired to the king’s chambers, exhausted and a bit tipsy, I wonder if I’ve been chasing the wrong sort of freedom all these years. There’s a different sort of liberation in finding a place where you don’t have to hide any of the messy pieces of yourself. A place that cradles them rather than scattering them further.
And perhaps it’s Niko that first drew me to Letum, but he isn’t the only reason I want to stay.
Chapter thirty-six
It’s after midnight when Niko finally returns.
Unable to sleep, I’ve been working for the past half-hour on conjuring myself a set of throwing knives to match my gladius, but the painting slips entirely from my mind when I feel his icy presence enter the room. I spin to find him leaning up against the bedroom door frame, his onyx eyes devouring every bit of the lingering candlelight. For a long moment, we just stare at each other, as a mess of emotions begin to claw their way up my throat and pile atop my tongue.
He made me his and then he left, and I’m not sure which matters more. I only know anger is the easiest emotion to grasp, but as I prepare to hurtle it at him, he closes the space between us in two large strides, crushing me to his body.
His mouth sweeps hungrily over mine, and I lose hold of every bit of the rancor, every bit of the humiliation and regret I’ve been holding since I woke up this morning alone. Niko’s hold is tight and steadfast, as though he fears I’ll slip between his fingers like the wisps of a dream.
My legs go weak as he kisses me thoroughly, leaving me breathless. But I find I need no oxygen so long as I have him. As the day went on with no sign of him, I’d begun to wonder whether I’d imagined the pure magic that had erupted between us last night. But as our tongues dance, and I lose myself in him again, I know it was true.
Knowwe’retrue.
We’re both breathing heavily by the time Niko pulls away, the small distance between us enough to recover some of my scattered thoughts.
“Where the hell have you been?” I demand breathlessly.
“I went to check on Marina.”
“All day and all night?”
His mouth twists. “No,” he admits in a strained growl. Like the confession costs him something. He doesn’t elaborate, his eyes drifting from my face to the variety of weapons piled on his bedroom floor. “Have you raided the armory again?”
“No,” I reply with a proud shimmy. “I was practicing. I’ve figured out how to control my magic better, thanks to Sam.”
“Sam,” he repeats faintly, still eyeing the knives and swords with an indecipherable look.
“Yep,” I reply, bending down to pluck up my latest creation. A gorgeous dagger, perfect for a thigh sheathe. Niko listens as I explain about the painting. “For some reason, weaponry has been the easiest thing for me to paint well. But I’m sure everything else will come with time.”
I expect his praise for how far I’ve come, but Niko only frowns and rakes his fingers roughly through his hair. “Fuck,” he mutters, more to himself than me.
