I narrow my eyes. “I have no allegiance to her, other than the fact that we serve in the royal court together.”
Liana hums, unconvinced but too tired to argue.
“It’s all right,” she says, arranging one of the dark crystals at Arlet’s bedside. She hums a few notes under her breath, shifting the placement of an obsidian shard. Each stone responds, glowing faintly as the entire arch shimmers with a soft hum, colors shifting in waves of violet and gold.
“No one should bother you while I am gone,” she says.
The rainbow light dances along Arlet’s cheekbones, highlighting the soft curve of her jaw.
If my heart were still inside my chest—if I were a man whole and unbroken—it would be cracking in half right now.
I exhale, steadying myself, then say, “Travel safe. I’ll stay with her.”
Liana gives me a long, knowing look before nodding. She gestures toward a plush chair in the corner, one stuffed thick enough to nearly pass as a bed.
“Try not to haunt the bedside too much,” she says dryly, then disappears down the hall, her robe trailing behind her in a whisper of silk and crystal.
“Don’t forget to put your hair up!” I call.
Liana cackles.
I lower myself into the chair, letting my body sink into the fabric, but I keep my eyes on Arlet.
A stack of the obsidian future reading cards sits on the table beside me. I smirk, barely, acknowledging the small act of anticipation. Liana knows me too well. She sees the things I refuse to acknowledge, even to myself.
For a long moment, I don’t move. I let my mind wander, something I rarely allow. To live in the past is to suffer.
I know that.
And yet… I see my life before.
The home I built with Adra, the warmth of her presence. She was always there.
I remember coming back from the military academy, exhausted and half-starved, only to find a meal waiting. She had learned my preferences and memorized them. And I had done the same for her—listening, watching, giving. We made a language without words—crafted an instinctual love.
It had been so easy, and it had been enough.
Now? Every person in Enduvida has sacrificed something. Why should my happiness be any different?
My life was once beautiful beyond measure.
That should be enough.
And yet…
My eyes betray me.
They shift to the red-haired woman lying on the inclined table, red hair braided neatly over one shoulder, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm.
I tell myself I am only looking. Only studying. But I notice too much.
Freckles scatter in faint trails across her, the bluish-cream tone of her cheekbones. But my eyes follow the darker spots—on her collarbone, her shoulders, her hands.
The urge to connect and trace them like constellations is overwhelming. Would I find a pattern? A hidden map of her soul?
Suddenly, Arlet’s eyelids twitch. It’s a small movement, barely perceptible, but I feel it like a jolt of electricity through my veins.
I sit forward. Liana had wanted her to stay sleeping. But she’s been lying there for so long. Maybe if she woke, I could find out something helpful to Liana.