A sudden smile lights her face, drops falling around us faster. “You used my nickname.”
It’s a surprise for me, too.
She stands, motioning me to my feet, and I do as she asks. Helpless. “Dance with me, Lieutenant,” she says, her left hand taking mine, her right on my shoulder. “Dance with me in the rain and we’ll see what you remember.” I almost protest, but she’s already against me. Her half-dried hair tickles my arm, her bare skin against mine. My heart pounds wilder than it ever has. Temptation burning. Just one moment. One moment like this, all alone on the rainy shore, the mountains right there, so close I could touch them.
Her so close, to touch.
To kiss.
“I kissed her, Father,” I imagine myself saying.
I imagine her in my arms and everything else burning around us and then I push her from me, terrified, like she’s something that might shatter between my hands. The Prince and Cyar have appeared again, paddling their craft closer, and her brother’s fury is a siren at the edge of my vision. “We need to untie our boat, Ali.”
“We have a moment,” she says, hurt evident. Something fragile I have power over.
“This will only get worse.”
The rain falls harder, proving my point, and she lets her hands drop from me. Her disappointment hammers at my resolve.
“Perhaps later,” I say, even though it’s a promise I shouldn’t make.
“Perhaps.”
She’s already walking for the river.
23
AURELIA
The afternoon the General and my mother are to return, Athan and I are alone together. We wander the halls, buying time, even though he’s said three times now that he really must go ready his things to leave. I can’t bring myself to agree to it. He eventually just invites me to join him while he packs.
The small guest room has a single window overlooking the woods. Cyar’s bed has been neatly made, his bag already gone. Athan tells a laughing monologue as he folds and sorts, some tale about Cyar and a snake and a pool, but I’m adrift. I’m caught between two currents of certainty—one, that I’ll never be able to forgive myself if I let him go thinking I don’t care, and the other, that this evening he’ll be gone and no matter how we pretend, we’ll likely never see each other again.
What’s the point in speaking my thoughts if they can’t become anything?
“You have to picture this, Ali—a giant snake loose in a pool while mothers run in fear. Cyar may seem like the mature one now, but he was a little tyrant back in the day. Says his mother was relieved to ship him to the Academy to be straightened out.” His laughter stops. “You don’t find this as funny as I do?”
“It’s very funny.” I’m tired of stories about Cyar.
Silence stretches a long moment, then he tosses something at me. “Here.”
I catch it between my palms, startled to interest. A coin from Savient. One side bears the familiar fox in swords, the other a ship with banners.
“Save it, Ali. When you visit, we’ll go to Valon and spend a night there, maybe drink too much. Bring out the rebel in you.”
“And what would your girlfriend think of that?” I ask.
I need the truth. I’m sure she’s there, some girl who knows what he knows, who lived through the bullets and the revolution and who understands the strange things that make him tick.
His smile fades. “Girlfriend?”
“Yes. I assume you have one. Like Cyar.”
He stares at me, then shakes his head. “I don’t.”
“No?” Relief warms.
“I’ve spent five years at an academy full of men. We had two female pilots, but they graduated ahead of me. There’s a reason I can’t dance.” He pauses. “Besides, I don’t think it matters much anyway. I’m going to war and I’ll probably die, so then what?”
“Don’t say things like that,” I whisper.
He shifts, perhaps embarrassed. “I suppose I’ve never been very good at this,” he admits.
“Would you come to my birthday masquerade?”
Regret softens his discomfort. “I’m not sure you know what you’re asking.”
“It’s one night, Athan. You have leave, don’t you?”
“Not to come halfway around the world.”
“I promise it would be worth it.” It’s silly even to my own ears. I’m asking for the impossible, but I’m desperate for him to pretend along with me, to pretend he’d try for me.
With a sigh, he motions for the coin. “Let’s do this your way. We’ll let fate decide.” I hand it over and he makes a fist, resting the coin on his index finger. “If it’s a fox, I come.”
I nod.
He flicks it and it spins into the air, then lands on his outstretched palm, results swiftly shielded by his left hand. “What do you think it is?”
“A fox,” I say with certainty.
Instead of revealing the coin, he tosses it back at me without warning. I’m not quick enough and it falls to the floor, spinning on wood. “Why did you do that? Now we’ll never know!”
“Sometimes it’s better not knowing.” He looks at me, grey eyes rueful. “I’d prefer to dream.”
Stars, I’m so frustrated by the distance soon between us, the distance even here and now. It’s all new and frightening. “Then it’s a good thing you don’t believe in fate. You’ll have to make it happen, won’t you?” I move closer. “We should practice our dance, Lieutenant. The one we didn’t have time for at the river.”
“Here?” He starts to look round the room, but he’s quickly drawn back to me, my face.
“Yes. You said later. It’s later, isn’t it?”
“Let me check my watch.”
I grab his hand before he can tease his way out of this, placing it on my waist. “Dance with me.”
“Anything to see you smile,” he says, the humour in his voice lessened, replaced by a gaze that makes me hot from head to toe.
I’m so close now, and he doesn’t back away, nor does he come near. He stares like he’s forgotten how to breathe. It’s easier than I expected. There’s nothing to distract him from me, and as we dance, I can’t keep track of the steps. He’s no longer the strange and distant boy from the dinner twelve days ago. Now his touch is meaningful, because it belongs to him, Athan Erelis, and desire for something I can’t explain sparks wild inside.
“Please come,” I say into his ear. “Ask the General for special permission.”
His shoulders shift beneath my hands. “I’ll write you.”
It’s a middle ground, the only thing he can offer, and I accept it gratefully, clinging to his warmth and the sensation of him here and now, on the earth, with me, far from the clouds above. His breath against my forehead. I look up, at his lips, his perfect lips, and I know they’re meant for me. A taste I long for. He leans down. His warm mouth almost to mine.
A tall shadow appears at the open doorway.
Stars!
We jump away from each other.
It’s General Dakar, Admiral Malek behind him, and both appear stunned. New heat surges across my cheeks.
The silence is terrifying.
The General cocks his head. “What social graces indeed, Lieutenant.”
Athan doesn’t speak, eyes on the floor.
This is all my fault and guilt pulses beneath the mortification. “Your tour went well, General?” I’m grasping for an escape.
“Yes. Your mother was a most beneficial ally. I’m appreciative of her efforts. Likewise, your willingness to be such a … generous host.”
The Admiral appears faintly amused behind him.
The General turns to Athan. “Gather your things, Lieutenant. You’re late as it is.”
“Yes, sir.” He grabs his bags and heads out the door, no farewell offered in my direction. Not even a glance.
It hurts.
“You must forgive our sudden departure, Princess,” the General says. “There are new and pressing matters in Thurn, and we simply can’t afford to stay longer. This has been a happy visit for us all, but the South doesn’t wait on such things.” He tilts his cap to me. “Thank you, again.”
He and the Admiral turn down the hall, and I’m left alone—so terribly alone—in the empty room with its solitary view of the woods.
* * *