She caught up to him at the bottom of a grand marble stairwell that led to a large open balcony. Morgen was staring past the stairs, down a small hallway that branched off to the left. His fingers were wrapped so tightly around the polished wood banister, his knuckles were white, his eyes wide in an old terror as they fixed on the spot.
“Was that it?” she asked quietly, stopping next to him. “Your room? Down that hall?”
He inhaled sharply, and his breath shook on the exhale. “It was, yes.”
“Do you want to look? Or would it be better not to?”
He tore his gaze from the hall, and when he looked at her, she found his eyes were dull but shining with unshed tears. “Can you come with me?”
Her heart broke at the broken vulnerability in his voice, but she didn’t let it show on her face. He didn’t need her to be upset for him right now. He just needed her to be there.
She took his hand again.Whenever you’re ready.
I’m afraid. Logically, I know he won’t be there, but it feels… It’s hard to convince myself he won’t be lurking around some corner.
“I know,” she whispered, pressing her palm to her cheek.
He stared at her for a stretch of time, and she didn’t move, letting him take whatever he needed from her. Eventually, he nodded curtly, more to himself than her, she thought, then turned down the hallway.
She didn’t have much experience at all with palaces, but she imagined this was what a servant’s hall would look like. Small, simple, conveniently hidden from the main splendor without being too far from reach.
He stopped at a slightly ajar door midway down the hall. The wood was splintered and burned in several places. She held his hand tightly, and he nudged the door with his foot. It swungopen, creaking on its hinges, to reveal a small room, with only a bed and a roughly hewn chest of drawers. Dust floated through the air, illuminated by the dim stream of light coming in from a small, dirty window above the bed.
Morgen swallowed audibly then let go of her hand and walked slowly towards the bed. She pressed a hand to her chest to steady herself as she watched him kneel, peering underneath the bed. It was so small, the sheets tucked neatly into the thin mattress.
Morgen reached under the bed and pulled out a small wooden box. When he opened it, she came closer, watching him ghost his fingers over the objects within. They were simple, ordinary things: a cream-colored kerchief, two pieces of inked parchment, a crumbling autumn leaf, a tiny brass pendant crudely formed into the shape of a dragon.
“Kindnesses,” he murmured before shutting the box again.
Her eyes burned, and this time, she could not stop the tears that fell silently down her cheeks. The objects in the box were mementos, just like the ones from her he’d kept in his room in the Gods’ Aisle. But these objects represented the only moments of kindness or warmth he had been given as a child here.
“The people who gave me these are long dead,” he said, sliding the box back under the bed. “It never took long for Kronos to sniff out those who were extending too much sympathy my way.” He glanced back at her, noting the tears. “Please don’t tell me you’re sorry. I don’t think I can take any pity right now.”
Her brow rose at his blank expression. She wiped the tears away and knelt next to him. “Give me a little more credit than that, Morgen.”
She shut her eyes briefly, attempting totryand calm the embers rising to further bolster her emotions. It had been a feat she’d been working on with him these past weeks, but she wasstill not as controlled as she would have liked. “Of course I’m sad for you, and for them, and I’m angry all that had to happen. It would be impossible for me not to feel those things.” She shook her head slightly. “But I don’t pity you.”
He exhaled, and his entire body slackened. He pressed his forehead to her shoulder and breathed deeply. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice muffled. “It was instinct to expect that. This place is just… It’s unbalancing my mind, being here.”
She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. “I wish we didn’t have to come back here.”
“Me too.”
“The decor is obscenely ugly. Who allowed that much gold? It’s garish. We’ll have to tear everything out and start completely from scratch if we want to make it bearable.”
He lifted his head, staring at her with an unreadable expression before a surprised laugh burst out. “The decor?” he said, still chucking. “That’swhat you’re worried about?”
Her lips twitched, and she shrugged. “We have to start somewhere.”
They both knew it was more than that without saying. She wanted to make this place as far from the horror-filled halls he remembered as possible, to erase memories of Kronos so he and anyone else who had suffered at the former king’s hands did not see him here.
Morgen pressed his palms to her face, nudging his nose against hers. “I love you,” he said, and then, before she could reply, he kissed her gently.
“So rude, not letting me reply,” she said when he broke away, but the words were too soft to even be teasing, especially when she added, “I love you too.”
His smile was small and fleeting, but she took the victory regardless. He stood, offering her a hand. “Shall we?”
She took it, sweeping one more glance around the room. “We shall.”
