Honovi quicky stripped down to his underwear before joining Blaine on the bed. He dragged the covers over them both and rolled onto his side so he could sling an arm over Blaine’s waist, drawing him close. They’d been forced to swap their usual sides of the bed to accommodate Blaine’s still-healing left arm.
“What were you working on?” Blaine asked after a moment.
“Just some trade reports. Father was right, though. It can all keep until morning.”
Blaine shifted against Honovi, his remaining hand settling over the arm Honovi had draped over his waist. “I can help you with that.”
“You need to rest.”
“I’m not an invalid.”
The tension in Blaine’s voice had Honovi shoving himself up on one elbow, leaning over his husband. He looked down into Blaine’s face, wishing he could soothe away the distress and pain in those hazel eyes. He settled for smoothing back Blaine’s hair.
“You’re not,” he agreed. “But you need to give yourself time to heal.”
“Iamhealing.”
Honovi rested his forehead against Blaine’s, breathing slow and careful. “You are, but give yourself the grace you’d give others to learn how to live with a new normal. You have nothing to prove, not to me, not to anyone.”
Blaine reached up to grip Honovi’s braid where it spilled over his shoulder. “It feels like I do.”
The quiet, agonizing confession drew a protesting sound out of Honovi. “You don’t. You never will.”
They stayed like that for a few minutes more before Blaine nodded jerkily, saying nothing. Honovi settled back onto the bed, pressing close. Losing an arm didn’t make Blaine any less the man Honovi had grown up with and learned to love. He’d shown Blaine the sky once before, and he’d do it all over again if that’s what his husband needed.
Seven
JOELLE
The smell of funeral incense that lingered in the air of the private star temple the House of Kimathi prayed in stung Joelle’s eyes, but thevezirhad cried all the tears she could afford. She folded her shaking hands together over her lap, staring blankly at the statue of Callisto and the eternal flame that burned there up at the altar.
The Dawn Star was not who she worshipped and hadn’t for most of her life. Her prayers had never been answered by Solaria’s guiding star but by another. Innes had promised her a road to power. Joelle had thought she’d paid enough for it, but apparently not.
Artyom had died in Calhames, branded a traitor rather than a victim in the broadsheets. Her only son was but a name on a memory wall now, his wife and children a wailing, grieving mess Joelle had sent to the family wing of the estate in the wake of the funeral rites.
Like with Nicca, her granddaughter, Artyom was another death she blamed the House of Sa’Liandel for. This time, there wasn’t even a body to burn in Bellingham’s crematorium. All they could do was pray and grieve while the rest of Solaria turned as one against her House.
The Legion marched to hervasilyeton order of the emperor. Scouts had sent back word of their approach, and it was only a matter of time before they attempted to lay siege to Bellingham how Vanya’s mother had laid siege to Rixham.
She would not allow it.
Joelle reached for the pew in front of her and used it to brace herself as she stood. Her bones ached, her usual medication barely making a dent in the pain as she worked to shore up her House’s position and power. Bellingham was a city beholden to her House, the surroundingvasilyetnever one to welcome those who called Calhames home.
She stepped into the center aisle and turned to leave, nearly stumbling when she saw who stood in her way. For a moment, hatred washed through her so powerfully that Joelle swayed on her feet. “My lord.”
“I hear your grief,” Innes said.
Joelle swallowed thickly. “My son is dead.”
“You still have a daughter here and a great-granddaughter in Calhames.”
“Artyom made a better heir than Karima, and Raiah is beyond my reach. Vanya sends the Legion to take myvasilyet.” Her lips trembled as she spoke, breath stuttering in her lungs from so much hurt and anger. “I amowed.”
She’d been promised much when she’d allied herself with Eimarille at the behest of the star god in front of her. None of those promises had come to fruition for her, and Joelle had to wonder if they ever would. But it was too late to second-guess this road, to step off it. She’d made her choices years and years ago, given her loyalty to Innes in hope of claiming the Imperial throne. Joelle had sacrificed so much over the years, and she was tired of whittling down her House to prop up someone else.
“You are,” Innes agreed, offering her his bent elbow. “Perhaps it will please you to know that a division of the Daijal army is less than half a day away and prepared to entrench themselves along yourvasilyet’s borders. They will arrive before the Legion. You will have Daijal support to push back against any threat.”
Joelle knew better than to ignore the offer of aid and so slipped her hand around the bend of the Twilight Star’s elbow. “They have not fought against the Legion.”
