“Absolutely.” Her smile takes over her face. She nods her head toward the door. “I believe Caben’s guilt is what’s preventing his full return, if you will, into his old self.”
Smiling, I give my friend a quick nod. Unable to agree vocally, I understand what she’s trying to tell me. “I trust time to mend that, too.”
Then, before I lose my nerve, I blurt, “Is your goddess bond with the empress still strong?”
Her forehead creases. “As ever,” she says. “Why?”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I glance at Aurelia as she moves to lie down on her bed. “Mine’s been severed,” I say, and look back at her. “I thought maybe it was because of my rebellion. The empress’s punishment. But if you and the other Nactue are still linked to her, then it has to be her own personal banishment for me.”
Lilly rubs the newly formed chill bumps over her arm. “It could be because you chose to leave her. You could have cut the link somehow. We don’t fully understand just how strong you are…how powerful—”
“I thought of that,” I say, stopping her. I know she’s attempting to make me all right with what’s been done. What I’ve done. I don’t need her to commiserate; I’d rather have her true thoughts on this. “But something within me feels that’s false. The bond was connected between me and the empress through a power bestowed to her by the goddesses. So I doubt just the sample of Bale’s power inside me could break that.” I study her pinched face. “Doesn’t that make sense?”
She nods, her gaze on me but unfocused. “It does. And you’re right, of course. But have you considered the possibility she never wanted to force you to be the vessel? That maybe she was relieved you escaped, and releasing you from her service was her way of letting you pursue helping Caben?”
I had thought nearly the same thing, just not voiced so well. Lilly has that ability. Yet, she’s still connected to Empress Iana, and will feel the need to protect her, defend her, as she should.
The sure and unsympathetic look in Empress Iana’s gaze during our last meeting steals over me, and I’m filled with doubt at her words even more. But I say, “Maybe that’s what happened.”
She nods, and I tuck this bit of revelation away. Soon, I may have another hard decision to make. My Nactue are not truly mine. They first, and will always remain, Empress Iana’s elite guard.
But until that moment comes, I’ll accept the help they choose to offer willingly.
One thing’s for sure: their bond isn’t nearly as strong as mine was before my deviation. I’d have never been able to simply walk away from my duty to protect the empress. I’m assured of that.
Nights are the hardest. When everything is silent and dark, and my never-ending thoughts are loud, grabbing and clawing at my mind.
Tossing the covers aside, I groan and turn on my side, aggravated with the utter stillness. I haven’t been able to sleep a full night in ages. There was always a battle. A meeting. A Court matter needing to be addressed. The many struggles that have surrounded me for so long…and staggeringly, I feel completely at a loss without.
Though we have plenty of problems to keep my mind churning, there is no one sure solution to place into effect. I could usually rely on that at least. Bax’s final suggestion today was to wait. Wait for Bale’s move. Wait for the leaders’ moves. Wait for someone to do something so that we can answer that action with one of our own.
I’ve never been one to wait for anything before jumping in headfirst, sword raised. And I don’t know how to be a person who sits still. Bax says it’s a new lesson for me. Always the mentor, me the ever-impatient pupil. I huff and turn flat on my back. Stare at the veins in the wood ceiling and hope for a new calamity to spur us all into motion.
How awful. To want for a mishap just to chase away the boredom.
But I’ve been at unrest too long. I doubt I could ever live a normal life now.
A quiet rap sounds on the door, and my breath halts.
The door cracks open. “I know you’re anything but asleep,” Caben says.
With a surge of adrenaline, my heart bangs against my chest. I swear I can hear it in the too quiet room. “It’s useless. I haven’t been able to sleep through the night since before the Cage.”
In the dim light provided by the fire pit embers, I make out his nod of understanding. Then my gaze travels lower, to his wardrobe. The gray pants and white shirt loosely tucked into them. He hasn’t changed yet, and he reaches up and starts to unbutton his shirt.
Now my heart is careening against my rib cage. Beating so fiercely my breastbone aches, but the pressure is good. Exhilarating. Not silent, stagnant, motionless. It’s the absolute opposite.
He yanks his shirt open and pulls his arms free from the sleeves, then tosses it to the floor. My gaze hungrily traces every inch of bare skin. His beautiful, tanned flesh. The tight, leanly defined muscles of his chest and stomach. It’s not even sexual, or lustful, what courses through me—it’s demanding, but in the way a wilted flower demands water. I need him for so many reasons all at once.
Dragging back the covers, he slips into bed beside me, his warm skin sliding against my night shirt and pushing it up as he brings me flush against his body. “I’m sorry I waited until now to do this,” he whispers. “I should have been in your bed that first damn night—”
“Shh,” I hush his admission. “You don’t have to explain. I’ve been battling some acclimating myself.” I use Lilly’s word for lack of my own. Then I lift my hand hesitantly…and rest my palm against the side of his face when he moves closer and into position for me to do so. My breath finally releases in a rush.
Running the pads of my fingers along his temple, his hair feathering around them, I revel in the closeness he’s allowing me. Feeling my emotions heighten almost painfully, I try to tamp them down. Get them under control. Damn this unbridled mercury and its cruel aftereffect. It’s almost laughable; that I’ve become this jumble of feelings.
Caben’s hand caresses my arm soothingly, then slowly roams across my shoulder. I focus on keeping my breathing steady as he inches over my collarbone, his fingers finding the puckered seam of the glass casing.
“Have you thought about…?”