Page 94 of Burn of the Everflame

“Look at him, he doesn’t even want the role,” my father argued.

When no argument came from me, Diem’s brows dug lower.

“Fine,” she said to him. “Keep your place as Head of House, but stay out of my sight.” She pushed past us and strode down the hall, calling over her shoulder, “You owe me a debt, Remis Corbois, and you do not want me to call it in.”

“I’m going to Ignios tomorrow,” Diem said as I caught up with her outside, walking toward the Guardian camp. “Nidara says things are bad there. She isn’t sure their people will survive much longer without a leader.”

“Lumnos needs its leader, too.”

“No, Lumnos needs a council. Marthe Hanoverre may be a nasty old hag, but her idea was a good one. The people here need to learn to govern themselves when I . . .” Her voice abruptly fell off. “Alixe is coming with me, so I’m appointing you to lead the Royal Guard until we return.”

I grabbed her hand and stepped in front of her, forcing her to a stop. “I want to come with you. We promised to face these things together.”

She didn’t pull her hand away, but she wouldn’t look at me, either. She stared down at where my fingers curled around hers. “I won’t be gone long. A day or two at most.”

She sounded ashamed. And she looked miserable. Tired. Heavy. Like she couldn’t bear one more battle to fight.

“This is what you need from me?” I asked.

She swallowed, then gave a tiny nod. “It is.”

Something told me that wasn’t the truth, or at least not all of it, but her weary posture kept my arguments silent.

I grazed my thumb over her wrist. “You did well today.”

“I did nothing. But you . . . telling everyone about your mother . . .” She shifted a bit closer.

“I was sick of hiding,” I said, though that wasn’t the whole truth, either. When I saw the woman I loved facing a hateful mob with head held high, I wanted to be brave. Like her. And I didn’t want her to be alone, so I said the one thing that would turn them all against me, too.

She looked up at me, eyes gleaming. Her lips parted as if she might speak, though no words came out. I threaded my fingers in hers, wishing I could weave her into me in a more permanent way.

She turned her face away. “I should sleep. Alixe and I are leaving early.”

“Can I at least bring you dinner?” I forced myself not to look at the too-thin body she’d been hiding under cloaks and baggy clothes. The body she had allowed me to see and hold for the briefest moment before inexplicably pulling away.

Her weak nod filled my heart with hope. I walked her to her tent, fetching her a lantern to light its dark interior, then ran off to fill a bowl with stew roasting over a firepit and a mug of hot tea. I hurried back, thinking this might be our chance to talk through whatever kept her at a distance, but in the dim orange glow of the lamplight, I saw her body spread out beneath a blanket on her bedroll, eyes closed.

“Diem?” I called out.

She didn’t move.

During our weeks on the run, I’d developed a habit of waking in the night and creeping to her side, needing to confirm that she was safe before I could sleep again. By now, I knew the way she slumbered—the way her body curled in like a cat, the barest trace of a smile that always stayed on her lips.

She was most definitely not asleep. But she wanted me to think she was.

The knowledge stung. I set the bowl and mug beside her and dimmed the lantern. I returned to the palace, where I packed a bag of her clothes, then went to my room to grab spare weapons to give her before heading to the kitchens. There, I packed a satchel of fruit, bread, and hard cheeses, then headed back to camp.

When I ducked beneath the flap of her tent to set out her things, the sight of her empty bowl and sleeping body—in earnest, this time—left me both hurt and relieved. I settled on the grass outside and closed my eyes. It took hours and a thousand dark, troubled thoughts for sleep to find me, but eventually, it did.

When dawn arrived, I awoke to her blanket draped over my shoulders, wrapping me in her scent, and Sorae’s silhouette shrinking into the clouds.

25

DIEM

Iglowered at the rippling water beneath my palm, my arm trembling as raw magic channeled through my blood. I’d unleashed my godhood at its fullest strength, bound only by one command: Fix this.

The only thing I’d accomplished was working up a sweat.