“Okay. What happened during the final exam? Your fear was so intense I thought you were dying.” He brushed a hand through my sweaty hair, pushing it back from my face.
I grimaced. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Too bad,” He propped himself up on his elbows. “Because I deserve some explanations. You don’t want to talk about your wedding, fine. But I just about lost my mind trying to find you in that thunderstorm during the final.”
He’d looked for me? “It’s complicated.”
“I'll wait.”
I sighed. He would wait. Putting up with me took impressively immense patience. He'd wait until I cracked. Days, weeks, even. He might drop it eventually. Eventually was a long time to keep dodging him and holding out.
“Nikolach tried to kill me. Nearly did.”
His eyes narrowed, voice lowering. “Who’s Nikolach?”
I sat up and began to collect my discarded clothes off the floor. Even willing to spill some truth, this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. “He’s someone I knew from the Reformatory.”
Zevrial tugged me back into the bed, even as I pulled my shirt back on. “And who is he?”
“Is that jealousy I hear?”
He grabbed and rolled me until I was pinned underneath him. “Who is he, Lisia?”
“One more blip in a long line of assholes,” I shoved at him until he let up so I could pull my underwear and pants on. Ashasty as we’d been, none of my clothing had torn. “Don’t worry about Nikolach, he won’t try again. I beat him bloody.” Sighing, I retrieved the bottle so I could sip the remaining sweetstalk nectar.
“Why were you in the Reformatory anyway?”
He stood, wrapping large warm arms around me. I leaned into him for strength. “It’s a long story.”
His fingers traced delicious shapes on the skin of my hips beneath my hemline. “We’ve got time.”
Silence took over as I searched for somewhere to start. I struggled to get the words out over the sudden thickness of my tongue. “My parents lied to the Ascendancy. Told them I was raped because I was already betrothed and Nessa wasn’t. They already had everything arranged for my future, and there would be no risk to her future prospects.”
“Who’s Nessa?”
“My sister.” Holy Devourer but it was difficult to talk about any of this. And he had no context, either. Even cracked wide open after sleeping with him, my mouth felt like it was sewn shut. “I told the Ascendancy the truth.”
Zevrial didn’t say anything, waiting patiently for me to continue even as the quiet put on weight. I took a deep breath, gazing out the window at the dark miasmic layer. “I was never attacked. My parents told the Ascendancy I was to hide the truth about Alaric.”
“Who’s Alaric?”
I hugged myself as I moved to the other end of the room. This was too much. I wasn’t ready to talk about it, even after two years. Would this damage ever heal? “Listen, this was fun. But I should get back before someone notices I’m missing.”
Zevrial followed me, trapping my hands in his before I could finish putting my socks back on. “Who’s Alaric?” His voice was firm.
My lips opened, ready to give another excuse. To lie, to change the subject.
Zevrial had lost family, just like Sarina and I. I hadn’t been able to tell her about Alaric because learning about Corra had carved a fresh dent in me. My trust was frayed at the edges from Orin and Henrik. They’d all had reasons for their secrets, but it still hurt.
Zevrial hadn’t hidden himself from me, he’d shown me his illegal Skinscript, and revealed his theft of Starshells. He’d even told me about his missing parents, despite how difficult it sounded for him to speak about. I had to start trusting again eventually, and his concern was seeping through the glyphs that linked us.
The words held a monumental crushing pressure as I whispered, “My baby brother.”
Zevrial stiffened, rubbing up and down my arm as he spoke. “But you already have a sister…” He trailed off as he pieced it together. “Your parents pretended someone assaulted you, and that Alaric was yours, instead of theirs. But the Ascendancy penalizes adult criminals by returning them to the Devourer. You were underage, and didn’t share that the real overcrowding criminals were your own parents. So they incarcerated you for concealing the crime, since they couldn’t get a confession.”
I nodded. It felt strange and oddly relieving, having someone else know the truth. “I thought all the instructors knew.”
He frowned. “Why would you think that?”
