Page 4

When he opened his eyes the candles had burned to stubs, three of them long dead, the fourth barely alive. Hours had passed. Dali lay beside him, teal hair spread across the pillow, eyes closed. His release had dried on her bare stomach. She did not stir.

He sat up. Rolled his neck. Crossed to the window.

The gate was still lit below. Two figures stood at the entrance. Sevrin, his hood pushed back, dark hair visible, cloak still on his shoulders. And Asharin beside him, her hood still up but gold hair escaping at the edges where it had come loose. They were speaking. Whatever passed between them was quiet enough that even the guards nearby did not turn. Then she walked through the gates alone. Sevrin stayed where he was and watched her go, and did not move until she had fully disappeared inside.

Tamal watched him.

Strange.

He turned back to the room.

"I am ready for what I came here for," he said.

He didn’t care if his voice interrupted her sleep. It was time.

Dali opened her eyes slowly and looked at the ceiling. "Mm."

"Dali."

"I fed. I am satisfied." She turned her head and looked at him. "Perhaps tomorrow?"

"You said that before.”

"Did I?" She closed her eyes. "Then perhaps the day after."

He reached over and picked up the glass from the nightstand.

Dali raised an eyebrow.

He threw it against the wall. The sound filled the room and went quiet. A piece skittered across the floor and stopped near the door.

"I fed you. I gave you what you wanted." His voice did not rise. "Now give me what I want. Now."

She opened her eyes and looked at him. Then she sat up slowly, lazily.

"Fine," she said. "Until next time, Highness."

She looked down at her hands. Then she raised her head.

Her teal eyes softened, the color shifting until they were blue. The same color as the sea, as her brother Eravic. Her hair darkened, the teal receding until it lay dark brown in the candlelight.

His face changed before he could stop it. He pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest, his hand at the back of her head. Her breathing was slow. Her hands stayed in her lap.

"How was she?" she asked quietly.

"She fed. That is what matters." He pressed his mouth to her hair. "I cannot leave you here unattended when she has not fed."

She rolled her eyes against his chest. "You sound like my brother. Overbearing."

He smiled. "We were talking about him tonight actually. Perfumed posturing, is what he calls royal shits like the ones at tonight’s ball."

“Were there any snobby scuffles? That is one of his favorites whenever they fight,” she said with a laugh. The laugh that was warm and soft and was only ever hers. Her hands came up and rested against his arms, loose and easy.

He didn’t answer. The question had already slipped from his mind. He only cared that she was here.

He looked down at her. "When will this be over?"

She was quiet long enough that he thought she might not answer. Then, "I do not know. Whenever your sister comes. Or Teorin arrives."