I tell him about the infirmary patients, my conversation with Sauzon, and my progress with the Equinox Festival. Zev listens attentively, always finding some way to touch me. A casual brush on my arm, an errant strand tucked behind my ear.
“Will your father and brother disapprove of me healing in the infirmary?” It’s been weighing on my mind.
“Don’t worry about them,” Zev says. A faint crease mars his brow. “I’ll handle them. You do as you please.”
He runs a gentle hand over my hair, playing with the dark strands. “I have something for you,” he murmurs. “It’s long overdue.”
Zev leans back, retrieving a small box from his pocket. Without a word, he flips it open—and my breath escapes my lungs.
Nestled inside is a stunning silver ring, the band delicate but strong. Simple. At its center sits a brilliant white diamond, cut into the shape of a teardrop. Flickering light from the candles dances off its facets, scattering rainbows across the box’s velvet lining.
My fingers instinctively rise to my clavicle, brushing the cool stone that rests there.
It’s a perfect match to my mother’s necklace.
“I had it made for you,” Zev says quietly, shifting closer. “It took longer than I expected.”
For a moment, I can’t speak. My throat tightens, a storm of emotion catching in my chest. I blink rapidly, trying to force back the tears, but one slips free anyway.
Zev’s expression falters. “You don’t like it?”
I shake my head, swallowing hard. “It’s perfect.”
For a beat, he doesn’t move, just watching me closely. Then, he exhales in relief and gently takes my hand. His fingers brush over my knuckles—slow, reverent—as if committing every line of my skin to memory. Then, with a tenderness that nearly unravels me, he slides the ring onto my finger.
I stare at it, chest aching. It glints in the candlelight like a drop of clear, pure water—like something sacred.
I lift my eyes, only to find him already watching me.
“You’re trembling,” he murmurs, caressing the bare skin of my wrist.
I don’t answer. I can’t. There’s a heavy weight wedged against my ribs.
He lifts my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm, then holds it to his cheek, closing his eyes. “I know this doesn’t make up for everything. But I hope it’s a start.”
I can’t speak past the lump in my throat.
Then he opens his eyes—and I swear the look in them could undo kingdoms. Undome.
His gaze drops to my lips, and for one breathless moment, I think he’ll kiss me.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he leans forward and presses his forehead to mine. Our breaths mingle, warm and uneven.
The ring shimmers between us, a promise too beautiful to be real.
But Tides help me, I want it to be.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Aweekpassesquickly,thenanother, like the rapid current of a rushing river. The leaves on the trees are edged with gold, and the warm wind has a cooler bite, hinting at the change in season to come. It’s strange—in Tundrayn, we only have one season.
A routine slowly emerges, one where I find actual contentment—I spend mornings with Farzina planning every detail of the fast-approaching Equinox Festival. Healing in the infirmary dominates my afternoons and often stretches into the early evening when the patient load is heavy.
Word spread quickly of the Healer Princess performing miracles—Sauzon grumbles that the daily patient count has almost tripled, but the brightness in his eyes tells me he’s pleased. I suspect he’s grown to like me.
I avoid Faramir and Varad like I would a contagious illness. I’m mostly successful, except for the occasional breakfast or formal dinner where my presence is required. Zev always attends and keeps his brother in check, thunder rumbling and threats growled low in his throat.
