I hate that there’s no washroom, and I need to wait to bathe when I’m certain Mayah is with her friends.
But most of all, I hate the way I’ve tortured myself this past week. After the dance, I’ve taken care to avoid Mayah at every turn. Fucking Tumaas can’t keep his paws off her, and I just know one of these days, shackles or not, I’m going to throttle him.
At night, I creep through the hallway like a ghost, listening to ensure Mayah is safely ensconced in the room, then head up to the terrace to sleep.
Which is where I find myself now, sitting cross-legged on cold stone and cursing the terrace for being a terrace instead of a bedroom.
The door leading inside creaks open. Instantly, I’m on my feet, knees bent and ready. It’s jarring having to rely on my sense of hearing—I’m accustomed to energy signatures making themselves known far in advance.
It’s Tairna. The fading sunlight highlights the white streaks in her hair, a small wicker basket clutched in her hand. My shoulders drop slightly as she approaches, and I sit back down on my blanket.
“Can I join you?” she asks tentatively.
I shrug.
A quiet exhale, and then she sits across from me, her knees brushing mine. For a few heartbeats, we stare at each other in silence.
Then she clears her throat. “I spoke to the camp today about you and Mayah. Everyone is under strict orders to respect you.”
“You can’t command respect.”
And I don’t want theirs.
She sighs. “No. But regardless, I hope it’ll make you feel safer here.”
It doesn’t.
Another heavy sigh. Her hand trembles slightly as she lifts the basket lid. “Mushroom stew? I made it myself in the kitchens. Just the way you like.”
Her face—so familiar, yet so vastly different from the mother I remember—looks so anguished, so hopeful, that I can’t bring myself to refuse. Tairna pours the stew from a mason jar into two mismatched bowls, handing me my portion.
She watches with bated breath as I try a spoonful. It’s hot and savory and perfectly seasoned andexactlythe way I like it.
“It’s good.”
Tairna looses a relieved breath. “Remember that time you were ill? A nasty head cold. You refused bowl after bowl from thekitchens. It wasn’t until I headed down there and made it myself that you ate anything in days.”
“I remember.”
Her smile wavers, eyes welling with tears. “Forgive me, Vayru. Please forgive me. I—I didn’t want to leave you. But I couldn’t bear living in fear of Varad and his moods. His swinging fists. His cruel words. He—he thought I was nothing. That I was worthnothing.” Twin tears slide down her cheeks, her fingers absently rubbing her wrist. “I agonized for months about how to take you with me. Prayed to the Flames to show me the path. But I came up empty. There was no foreseeable way Varad would’ve stomached it. He’d have sent soldiers, even come after me himself. And you’d have witnessed him murder me. He’d have dragged you back. I—I tried to spare you that.”
My throat constricts. “I thought you dead by his hand anyway.”
Tairna shakes her head, shuddering sobs racking her frame. “I was weak, Vayru. I’m so sorry. Not a moment passed when you weren’t on my mind, in my heart, in mysoul. I had my men in the palace tell me of you. Your personality, your struggles. Your victories, even when they were against the Rebellion. I sobbed for weeks when Lev died, knowing what it would do to you. I w-wanted to come to the capital, but I couldn’t risk it. Pl-please, Vayru. Even if you hadn’t married Mayah, the plan wasneverto harm you. I’d have ensured every man, every woman, every general here knew you were to be left untouched. I swear it. I swear it by the Flames and by Mother Valca. By my heart and my body and my soul. I swear it byyou, Vayru. And when you are unencumbered by iron, I will tell you all of this again so you can be certain I speak the truth.”
A shuddering sob cleaves my throat, and when Tairna pulls me into her embrace, I let her. I’m so fucking tired of being alone. She holds me for what feels like hours as I weep, years and yearsof pain breaking free from where I’d kept it barricaded inside my chest.
When I draw back, Tairna cradles my face in her hands, wiping away my tears. “Listen to me, Vayru.” Her voice is stern, yet splintered with grief. “You are a good man. They tried to turn you into a monster—they failed miserably. Because I know, I know the heart that beats inside your chest wants peace. Wants relief from everything you’ve been made to do. I want that for you.”
“You don’t want me to stay and fight with you?”
“I won’t lie and say we couldn’t use you. Your knowledge of battle, of the Arbinji armies. It’s unparalleled.” She sniffles, wiping her cheeks with the hem of her dress. “But it’s your choice.”
“And Mayah?”
“She won’t see battle. We’ll keep her safe, far removed from danger. And when the dust settles, she’ll be queen.”
I curse the iron on my wrists as I ask, “You have no ill intentions toward her?”
