His smile is remorseful. He clasps my hands in his larger ones. “Forgive me, Mayah.” With slow footsteps, he leads me to the edge of the terrace, where the city stretches before us. “This is what I wanted to show you on our wedding night. Before the evening … took a turn.”
I snort. “That’s one way to describe an assassination attempt.”
He chuckles, holding me close to him. My back meets his chest. Zev presses closer, the heat of him wrapping around me in a familiar cocoon. Warm breath fans my ear when he says, “This was my favorite view in all of Arbinj.”
“Was?” I whisper, breathing in his smoky scent.
He hums but doesn’t answer. Instead, he says, “I used to come here as a boy when I wanted to be alone—which was often.”
“I’m not surprised you were grumpy and brooding even back then.” His fingers trail over my belly, and my breath stutters. I want to stay mad at him, I really do, but Tides, I’ve missed him.
“All that brooding paid off,” he murmurs in my ear. “Since you love my fierce scowl.”
“I didn’t say I love it,” I breathe. “Only that Ilikedit.” My pulse quickens, and he presses a chaste kiss over it.
With a deep, aching sigh, he rests his forehead against my temple. “I’m doing this all wrong, Mayah. I’m truly, truly sorry. In my efforts to keep you safe, I’m making you resent me. I wish we could spend every minute together. When I’m not with you, believe me that you dominate my every thought. Give me another chance. I’ll do better.”
My heart warms at his admission—that I’m not the only one aching.
But I won’t let him off the hook so easily.
“Andhow, exactly, will you do better?”
“You can freely explore the palace. With guards,” he adds before I can interrupt.
“One guard.”
“Four.”
“One.”
“Two.” He pinches my side lightly. “No less.”
“Fine.” I narrow my eyes. “What else?”
“You can heal in the infirmary as you please. Just—don’t burn through your reserves. I know food was … limited in Tundrayn. We have no such scarcity here. I won’t have you collapsing to prove a point.”
“And?” I prompt, my lips curving into a wide smile.
He tickles my ribs, and a breathy laugh escapes me.
“You’re being cruel. You already have me on my knees.” His voice is soft with affection. “I’ll work less, I swear it. I’ve been putting off going to the border, thinking it was enough. But I realize now, even with me here, we spend too much time apart. I’ve been a fool, Mayah.” He presses a lingering kiss to my temple. “But I’ll learn. Have patience with me.”
“All right,” I say softly. “One more chance.”
He holds me tightly, inhaling deeply as if memorizing my scent. Without a word, he leads me to the blanket, and we eat our dinner beneath the stars.
“Any movement with the Rebellion?” I ask between sips of wine—a mellow white.
Zev grimaces. “They set fire to a large farm two days ago—destroyed food for a large battalion.” A deep sigh slips free. “But let’s speak of something else. How are you likingFaerahzar?”
“You meanFaerataak. It’s the same story. But the book is wrong. He was a waterwielder first, not a stormwielder.”
Zev rolls his eyes. “Does it matter? In the end, he wielded everything.”
“Of course it matters!” I exclaim, pounding my fist on the blanket-covered ground. “Arbinj can’t claim Faerataak. He’s ours.”
“All right, wife,” he acquiesces, a small smile ticking up his lips. “He was a waterwielder. Tell me more of what you’ve been up to.”
