His voice hardened. “Why would you allow four men to corner you like that? Do you have any sense?”
Some irritation ran through me. “You’re cornering me right now while telling me not to let it happen. Back. Up.”
His gaze flickered with heat, but he took a step back allowing me out. I continued the walk to my mother’s without a look in his direction.
“Not even a ‘Thank you’ or maybe an ‘I owe you one?’” he asked from behind me.
I snorted, keeping my voice light. “For all you’ve done to me, you deserve a ‘Go to hell’ or maybe a ‘Fuck you.’”
All I heard was a breath of amusement.
I frowned, not expecting that response. “Why are you following me?”
“Hasn’t that always been the question,” he said softly, thoughtfully.
I sucked in a little breath, inhaling the smell of sweet smoke escaping a window somewhere nearby. If he just kept his mouth shut, half my uncertainty about him would fly out the window, but it was like he knew how to reel me in with those words, that voice.
I pushed a towel hanging from a line out of the way, letting it drop right on him, but suddenly, he grabbed my wrist, slowly, gently, turning me around. Surrounded by hanging laundry, his gaze focused heavily on my own. The air was hot, suffocating, and the way he was looking at me, made my blood burn even hotter.
There was something soft behind his eyes that I couldn’t figure out. Something that made my heart patter in my chest, because paired with that stupidly handsome face, it suddenly made me want . . . more than I ever should.
It was so quiet in this spot that Symbia’s music flowed down the alleyway, hitting our ears with soft, melodic sounds.
“If I didn’t get here when I did, what would have happened?” he asked, his voice dark and deathly serious.
I swallowed, but then some agitation ran through me. He tries to banish me from the city and then acts concerned about my welfare?
“Who are you to act like you care?” For some reason, the resentment came up all at once, choking me. “Your brother walks around without a care in the world. For all I know you let him—”
“Don’t say it.” His voice was so cold that it sent a chill through me, cooling the bitterness in my veins. “Do you know what it takes to get close to a man like my father? How long it takes?”
I blinked, uncertainty piercing my chest.
“How fucking long does it take, Calamity? Tell me. You can do the math, can’t you?”
Swallowing, my heart beat erratically. I opened my mouth, but I was stunned silent.
“Ten months,” he said roughly.
Understanding dawned on me completely.
“He had his solar warded, the strongest Mages you can find at his disposal. He knew what his children were, knew of ways to protect himself from us.”
I shook my head, somehow not believing it was because of me. He had too many other reasons to do it, especially the execution of his mother.
A heaviness settled in my chest when he let out a bitter laugh as if he read my thoughts; he’d judged my expression at least. “I’ve wanted to do it for so many reasons, Calamity. But there was only one I needed to do it for.”
“Why?” I breathed.
“He took what was mine. I took what he cherished the most: his life.”
Mine. A sudden warmth heated my skin.
“He took your chance to open the seal,” I corrected.
“My chance is still standing right the fuck in front of me,” he snapped. “If I wanted it, I could take it. I still have your blood—I could have you following me on your hands and knees if I wished. And trust me, that idea’s been fucking tempting.”
What he said rang true. If he was that upset about the seal, why wasn’t he taking the time he had left to get me to open it? To save his sanity?
The fact that he waited, planned the death of his father, it made his actions—in the most disturbing way—much sincerer than doing it out of the heat of the moment.
After a minute of intense silence, he spoke.
“Truce.”
His deep, thoughtful voice worked its way into my chest.
“What?”
“Truce. For good. Symbia is yours for now, but in your best interest, I suggest you don’t make a home here.”
My brows pulled together, uncertainty rushing me. “Mine? Are you leaving?”
“Yea.”
A heavy pressure settled on my lungs. “And what lucky place is expecting you?”
He ran his tongue across his teeth in the same unsure move I remembered his brother had done. “Elian.”
“Elian?” I choked out the word. “What’s in Elian?”
He never replied, but there was a suspicious light in his eyes that told me it might not be what was in Elian at all. But what was not.
So he was leaving because I wouldn’t? Why couldn’t we just coexist?
A feeling of panic twisted and bent in my stomach, making me almost nauseous, and the only word I wanted to say was ‘No.’ It was so strong on the tip of my tongue, an automatic reaction to something I couldn’t understand. But I held it back, my feelings spinning in turmoil. “Tired of me already?” I asked with a fake smile, my voice sounding off to my own ears. “When are you leaving?”
“Tonight.”
I nodded like I completely understood, but inside, an unnerving feeling was needling its way into my chest. I was going to be honest with myself about him for the first time because this panic squeezing my lungs gave me no choice.
I knew exactly how this would play out: he would leave, and I would be left here, trying to come up with more reasons I hated him just so that I could pen his name. These unnerving feelings I had toward him wouldn’t go away, and I’d be searching through men trying to find one whose hands took away my thoughts instead of making them spin with an excuse to leave.
I understood how this would play out. But I would never admit it, and I didn’t know how to fix it either.
“The captain?” I said, remembering the man he spoke to in The Three Cups. “You’ve had this planned? So why even try to make me leave?”
He shook his head. “I’ve decided to move my trip up a couple of months.”
Because of last night . . . because of me. I should have just told him the truth. Stepped on my pride and been honest with him. My chest tightened. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t be okay with this? I had the strongest plea on the tip of my tongue to ask him to stay, as if I had that kind of sway with him.
“What are you going to do in Elian?”
“I imagine what any other does in Elian.”
I swallowed, my throat thick. “What about Titan and your duty there?” What about me? the thought floated through my mind. My eyes almost widened at this visceral reaction that seemed to be waging without my consent. Confusion wedged deep into my chest.
He shook his head, some amusement crossing his face. “You think I should be in control of Titan after last night?”
“Rather you than your brother.”
“He won’t bother you again,” he assured as if he sensed my unease but was misjudging it on the topic of his brother.
“I stabbed him.”
He laughed quietly. “Yea. He deserved it, and he knows it.”
I wondered if Weston knew his brother wanted the seal open, but I didn’t ask. He’d made his decision to leave, and I didn’t want him to feel like he had to stay to protect me. I could handle myself.
He walked towards me, running his calloused palm to my nape, skimming his thumb across my cheek.
I licked my lips nervously, my heartbeats colliding with each other. I could feel his heavy gaze on me, but I wasn’t brave enough to look him in the eye. What if he saw everything I could never say?
“I’d tell you to stay safe,” he said soft and rough. “But I think you can do a better job than I ever could.”
My heart ached like my uncertainty had wrapped around it, squeezing.
> “Goodbye, Princess.”
I couldn’t say a word as he walked away, my gaze fixed unseeingly. Numbness settled into my chest, deep and heavy. And it was as the stone wall in front of me blinked into black and white, that I recognized this feeling.
I knew this feeling . . .
But I wouldn’t even let myself think it out loud. What a sick and twisted game Alyria had played on me. Maybe this was punishment for who I was, of what I could do. The music flowing down the alley suddenly took a melancholy dip as if it was serenading, mocking, my realization.
This one word, this feeling . . .
I hated it.
But I realized then, that I hated this pain in my chest even more.
My mother’s ageing servant answered the door, her gray hair swept into an elegant bun on the top of her head, her plain white dress thin and flowing to her ankles.
“I think I’m in love,” I said completely passionless, having come to terms with it on my walk here.
She watched me with a blank look for a moment, before shouting, “Reina!” and then she walked away.
“I told you not to shout at me anymore, Samira! It’s improper!” my mother hollered back, her voice getting closer as she came to the door.
Her face fell when she came into view and saw my imploring expression. “Oh, no. You’re with child, aren’t you? Like mother like daughter . . . well played, Alyria, well played,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head.
“What? No. I’m not with child. Worse! I think I’m in love!” I told her as I strolled into the foyer and past her into the drawing room.
She followed behind me. “Oh, dear. Not with that Untouchable prince, I hope.”
I blinked, remembering she’d seen me with him at the ball. “No, of course not,” I assured, shaking my head. “With the Titan prince.”
My mother’s eyes widened as she fell onto the chaise. “Which one? Not the one who killed his—”
My expression cut her off.
“Lord,” she breathed. “Mother is going to have a fit about this!”
“But she’ll never know! Because he’s leaving and . . . I have this very strange feeling in my chest like I can’t breathe. And it’s most uncomfortable. How do I make it go away?”
My mother watched me, her expression thoughtful. “Well, I don’t know. Don’t think I’ve ever felt that way before.”
I fell on the chaise across from her with a sigh.
“You must merely find a new man to focus on. Like Alis,” she said, pleased with herself that she had fit that in seamlessly.
“But it’s like every other man will not do. And besides Weston almost killed Alis today—broke his face, in fact—so I do not think he wants me anymore. Anyway, I’ve heard he has designs to offer for Juliana.”
She sat up. “What! Oh, no, no, no. I told Mother that I would get you pledged. And Alis is the only one who has strong enough connections to please her.”
My eyes narrowed. “Why does Grandmother want me married off?”
Her lips fell into a thoughtful pout. “It is important to have a strong ally on your side, Cal. If Alis has really planned on Juliana—which seems odd, considering just yesterday he was settled on you . . .” she narrowed her eyes at me, “then we need to find you someone new and quickly.” My mother cursed softly, sitting back on the chaise, before shouting, “Samira!”
She arrived, standing in the doorway, looking at my mother with annoyance.
“Wine, please. I think I feel a headache coming on,” my mother said, putting a hand to her temple.
Samira eyed my mother for a moment, then headed to the side table, muttering, “It is because you’ve already drunk too much wine today.”
I sat up, my thoughts chaotic. “Mother, you are older, and therefore slightly wiser—” Samira snorted, “—don’t you have any advice for me?”
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Well, start bedding someone else. It should pass in time.”
I sighed, sitting back against the chaise. I wasn’t bedding anyone at all, so that particular suggestion wouldn’t help.
“Reina, your advice is hogwash. You don’t know anything about love,” Samira said, thrusting a wine glass at my mother, some purple liquid almost sloshing over the sides.
My mother’s gaze narrowed as she snatched the cup from her hand. “And you do? How long has it been since you’ve been with a man? Surely I have more experience in the matter.”
Samira rolled her eyes. “She is talking about love. Not tupping anything that moves!”
“I have higher standards than that.”
“Hardly,” Samira responded, then focused her gaze on me. “Now you listen here, dear. If you love him, then tell him.”
Ugh. I thought I could taste my breakfast once again.
My mother scoffed. “Samira, you’ve no idea what you’re speaking of. She won’t degrade herself like that.”
“You degrade yourself every night in a different man’s bed! Looks where it’s gotten you. You don’t even know the meaning of love.”
“You don’t understand,” I told Samira. “I just want it to go away. That’s all.”
Her face softened. “Honey, if it goes away it’s not real love.”
My mother snorted.
Samira ignored it. “I’ve been with my James for fifty years. I know what I’m speaking of.”
I’d never entertained the idea of a future with Weston. Could I even put him in place of my blacksmith? Wake up next to him every morning? Instead of washing soot, wash the blood off his clothes? Even if I could fathom the idea, Weston didn’t have a future like that ahead of him.
I shook my head. “We can’t ever be together like that.”
“Finally, some sense in this house,” my mother muttered.
“Why not?” Samira asked.
“Because . . .” Weston is going to go mad sooner than later, and he kills . . . everyone. “It’s complicated. But impossible.”
“Well, if that is truly the case, then make sure you get everything off your chest so you can move on feeling like you’ve said everything you needed to say. Because if you don’t, the words will go through your head for the rest of your life.”
I blinked, taking her statement in. It settled in my chest, flooring me. Of course, that was it. Closure. I’d never fully got it.
The pressure released from my heart and a smile pulled on my lips. “I think I’ve just the plan.”
Samira smiled brightly. “Good, child, good. Are you going to tell him you love him?”
“No.” I shook my head, and then announced, “I’m going to sleep with him.”
My mother laughed so hard that wine sprayed from her mouth across the white chaise. Samira tossed her rag behind her, muttering something as she left the room.
Leaving my mother’s house, I felt much better about my plan, but the problem was: I wasn’t sure how to go about it.
Honestly, it was a little questionable this would give me the closure I needed. But I knew it would probably take me years to find another man I wanted to sleep with, and I didn’t want to wait that long. The only one in the vicinity was leaving tonight. What choice did I really have?
I knew that I would be straightforward with what I wanted. But some unease worried its way into my brain. What if he refused me? I chewed my lip while that possibility filled my mind. If I didn’t try, though, I knew I would regret it. For some reason, he was the one I wanted to be with first, and no other man would do. And besides, this gave me an excuse to see him once more.
The streets were filled with people, shoulder to shoulder, as they picked through the new shipment of strawberries, mangoes, and bananas that just came in.
The festival still had activities dispersed throughout the streets. Some dancers flittered from here to there in their colorful, ruffled skirts; a man who breathed fire entertained a passing crowd. A drama re-enacted Queen Sephil’s execution for adultery, the pig’s blood almost hitting me from a good distance. It was
when I was shying away from the spray, that my shoulder collided with a woman’s.
I turned around to quickly apologize but then froze, a chill crawling into my heart, growing, icing over. It was then I realized that I hadn’t frozen—the world had.
The woman had turned around to look at me, the tragedy of my name, my inescapable future staring me in the eyes in the form of one potion shop woman. A haunting fear filled my lungs, cutting off my breath.
Her dark hair spilled down her back, her lips in a genuine apologetic smile, but it was the darkened gleam in her eyes that saw me, saw what I could—would—do, that filled my throat with dread. A young girl held purple and yellow streamers behind her, and they were frozen in a state of disarray in the air, her waving arms moving at a snail’s pace.
The woman was frozen mid-turn, but her smile wasn’t immobile; it still brightened on her face, before falling into a thoughtful pout. She blinked in black and white, back and forth, before fading into color.
With a rush, sounds returned to my ears, the world resuming. My head had already snapped forward as if the world went on without us, my feet taking a few steps before I could stop them.
I whipped my head behind me, only to see the back of the woman’s dark hair disappearing completely into the crowd.
And so, I took a breath, willed my heartbeat to slow down, and then I walked away like nothing had happened as well.
My hands shook, nerves somersaulting in my stomach as I walked slowly to the palace. The church bell reverberated through the air, ringing in my ears. Tall palm trees waved in the wind, only a small breeze making its way through the streets. I could almost see the heat of the sun, the temperature having peaked mid-afternoon to an almost suffocating level. Not the best day to try and seduce someone, but I couldn’t wait; because one, he was leaving, and two, I needed to do it before I lost the guts.
After my mother’s, I’d lazed in the baths for a while, some of the girls coming with me to prepare for the last gathering tonight. The potion shop woman had been prevalent in the back of my mind, but I pushed her away. Because as Weston had told me that the seal would come to me, I knew with a certainty she was a part of it. And I wouldn’t sit and worry about something that I couldn’t control—at least not while my mind was spinning with how to ask a man to take my virginity.
A Girl in Black and White (Alyria Book 2) Page 19
