The vines in her head loosened into an ugly pattern. “Northernriots. Anorthernplague. The Guilds, the Order, and Aelius’s puppets all have ties to actively dispossessing the north or fostering anti-northern sentiment—Gaius, you’re brilliant! We’ve had our attention split between a thousand fires a day, but what if they stem from one inferno?” Her heart sank. “Something’s been brewing up north.”
“The odds are good, Petitor Sarai, but without a Bridger, it’s at least a fifty-day journey there and back again.” He sighed. “The Magus Supreme won’t like it.”
Neither do I.But it merited consideration. Wondering how she hadn’t seen it sooner, she thanked Gaius and left the office, making for the frightened group of marketgoers huddled together and watching the storm. It was dangerous to have them so unanchored. Fear was a weapon, and the Order would wield it once they heard of the plague. She had to get ahead of them.
Sitting beside the group, she spoke quietly, “It may not feel like it, but we aren’t at a loss. Everyone here fights for you daily. Help us by believing it.”
She reassured them until hope returned to their eyes, then resumed her writing of the plague case’s judgment. She finished as the storm dwindled to a close.
Rainwater pooled into Edessa’s deep storm gutters. Petrichor scented the thick evening air, devoid of the smoke that indicated a burning home. The city was already cooling. Soon, all would be ice.
She took the long way back to Aoran Tower, avoiding busy streets that could get a deluge of questions thrown her way. Leading Caelum into the stables at the edge of Kadra’s property, she unbuckled the mare’s saddlery and brushed her down.At least the rain’s over with.
A sharp clap of thunder was her only warning that she’d assumed too much too soon. Standing under the eaves, she glowered when a second bout of stormfall slammed down, wrenching out memories of the Fall. Of spiteful drops peppering her skin like arrows.
Don’t think about it. She closed her eyes.It’ll pass.
Long minutes slid by to rain’s accompaniment. She was contemplating a run for it when the patter wetting her sleeves ceased. As she raised her head, her heart fluttered at the lattice of lightning doming above the stables to enclose her. Rain hissed harmlessly as it struck the shield. She turned to find Kadra leaning against the stables’ doors, severe features relaxed in amusement.
“Trapped in the rain, Petitor?”
Warmth and longing uncurled in her gut. There was no one to see them, andfor once, the world was standing still.
She moved, and his arms parted, sealed around hers even before she closed the distance. He pulled her tight against him, tension draining in a long exhale. Her breath drew in rain, citrus, and the sweat curving down the blade of his jaw. He had ridden hard to return home, to return toher, and it burned her resolve to ash.
“I miss you,” she said fiercely. “Dearly. Deeply. I only ever see you in court or at the station.” She pulled back with a raw exhale. “I’m not complaining, Kadra. You’ve better things to do than attend to me when the nation teeters on the edge of chaos. I never want to impose—”
He trapped her jaw in his hands, something pained flitting across his face. “What have I told you about not being an imposition?”
“You’re spread thin. Gaius was just saying that your back seemed to be troubling you. I can’t make demands on your time when the land’s the priority.”
“Have I made you feel like you aren’t one?” There was a stark note to the question that had her clutching his arms.
“No!”
“Then, come to me,” he ordered, drawing a thumb down her cheek. She leaned in, and his eyes gentled “Give me your burdens.”
“Very well.” She rose on her tiptoes to cup his face, loving how he leaned down to make up for the remaining inches. “I’m scared,” she admitted, brushing her mouth over his jaw. “I’ve sorely missed you.”
He cupped the back of her head, his other hand caressing her spine. “And?” he whispered against her lips.
“I’ve turned around at night, hoping you were home and that work hadn’t kept you at the station. I’ve worried about whether you’re sleeping, and how to help, and whether I’m helping.” She took a jagged breath. “It’s been weeks. If only I could hold you for longer than—”
His mouth covered hers with a harsh groan. Caging her against the stables’ doors, he drank from her lips, drawing on the lower one and chasing the curve of her cheeks when she inhaled. Hunger streaked through her. She made a desperate sound that he devoured.
“I know, sweet Sarai,” he murmured. “I’ve been aching too.” For a man whose features rarely wore tenderness, his voice was awash with it. “You shouldn’t bear the weight of the land’s battles. You smile and tell me you’re well, but I wonder when you’ll regret this.”
Her eyes flew up to his. Desire warred with grim acceptance in the black storm of his gaze. “Is that still what you see?” she whispered. “Someone who’ll leave you?”
“You have every right to.”
“And I won’t. You needn’t push yourself to exhaustion in atonement for the Fall. I would live through Sidran Tower a thousand times over just to end up here. I love you.” She smiled tremulously. “Do try not to forget it.”
The words always seemed to cut him at the knees. His arms shuddered around her. Sweeping her up, he rapidly covered the distance to Aoran Tower, pressing stubbled kisses to her neck.
“Wait! Is Cato—”
“Not home.” He kicked open the door to the atrium and bent to her mouth.
