Tides protect you.
Your devoted daughter,
Mayah
With sharp, even creases, I fold the parchment into a neat rectangle, sealing it with a drop of wax. I don’t have the Tundrayni royal seal with me, so I let the green wax dry into a sigil-less circle. There’s no doubt in my mind the letter will be read anyway before it leaves the palace.
After handing the envelope to a servant in the hall, I return to our chambers. The dark walls are suffocating. With a sigh, I grab the tome on Arbinji history and settle into the sofa for another day of reading. Alone.
Later in the afternoon, a servant—Farzina—stops by to discuss plans for the Equinox Festival—color schemes, menus, outfit choices.
Riveting. A wonderful use of my time.
Zev doesn’t come to bed tonight either.
I try not to sulk.
The next day drags by much the same—alone in my gilded cage with only my thoughts and books for company. I try to strike up conversation with the servants who come to tidy the room, but they only offer pitying smiles. One of them, for some unfathomable reason, scatters fresh rose petals across the mattress and dresser.
As if it’s still our wedding night.
As if I haven’t been sleeping alone since.
After they leave, I count the rose petals scattered across the vanity—forty-three, all soft as velvet—and I’m dangerously close to counting them again. Outside the large window, the gardens sprawl across the grounds. Eight blue rose bushes. Eleven pink ones. I know because I counted them. Twice. Maybe if I ask nicely, the servants will plant three more blue ones and make it even.
I take a long soak in the bath, until the water cools and my fingers prune, but even familiar, comforting water can’t drown the ache of restlessness writhing beneath my skin.
Now, I lie on my massive bed and stare at the ceiling, debating whether I should cut up Zev’s clothing or fling myself out the window for a change of scenery.
Around lunch time, the door opens slowly as if it’s wary of drawing attention to itself. My husband enters with cautious footsteps. It’s been over two days since I last saw him.
I slam my book shut.
“Are my eyes deceiving me?” I exclaim, hand pressed over my heart, glare fixed on his face. “Is thatmyhusband?”
He stands in the doorway, looking sheepish, a large tray of food clutched to his chest. “I’m sorry, Mayah. I’ve been a terrible husband. Neglected youandbroke my promise to have you try mushroom stew on your first night.”
“I’m tired of your apologies,” I snap. “I’m a prisoner, locked within these four walls. Alone. I can’t live like this, Zev.”
He sits beside me on the sofa, setting the tray down on the small table. He reaches for me, but I jerk away from his grasp. A soft sigh escapes him, his hand dropping to his side.
“I don’t have an excuse, Mayah. I need to find a better way. I’m truly sorry.” He pinches the bridge of his nose tightly. Dark shadows line his eyes, as if he’s not slept much at all.
He looks like he’s aged years in just two days.
And still, I want to remain angry.
“Tell me what’s kept you away.”
Zev plates our food, handing me a bowl of stew before answering. “The Rebellion. They’ve been attacking both Arbinji and Tundrayni battalions stationed along the contested borders. They have more wielders than expected—waterwielders, earthwielders, healers. We’ve suffered many casualties. Sulon is in communication with your father’s generals. We’re trying to devise a joint strategy, but neither side is happy about working together.” He rakes a hand through his dark locks. “If things don’t get better, I’ll have to head to the border. I’ve been trying to manage the situation. Delegate tasks, strategize. It’s why I’ve been absent. I’m trying to stayhere. With you.”
My heart softens slightly at his genuine expression, though my frustration doesn’t completely disappear.
“Anything else?” I munch aggressively on bread soaked in stew. Zev was right—fungus or not, it’s delicious. When hereaches to wipe the corner of my mouth, I don’t pull away this time.
“My father is working on securing an alliance with Volca. He’s sent so many gifts for their princess, I’ve lost track.”
“She must be smarter than me if she’s refusing to marry Faramir.”
