She glanced up at him. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Shaking her head, she said, “I can’t do this. I can’t be responsible for someone else’s life.”
“His life was over when he defied me for the last time. Attaching himself to you was merely an extension, and it gives him something to do besides vex me.”
“How can you speak so casually of life and death?”
“I carry the responsibility of life and death for thousands, at the least. I cannot carry everyone. A drowning man is dangerous. He will drag you down with him if he can. You have to know when to let someone go.”
“You remind me of Uncle Marcum. He says things like that.” She paused and then took a deep breath. “Um … what of our betrothal?”
“That is entirely up to you, Frisha.” Seeing her shock, he said, “You are surprised?”
“I didn’t think you would still be interested,” she said. “Everyone else thinks you should marry Ilanet. You are a king. She is a princess, and she was supposed to marry a prince of Ashai.”
Rezkin shook his head. “I have no intention of marrying anytime soon. I will likely die before that day. The only reason I had considered it was to keep you with me. If you do not marry me, then there is no point in marrying at all.”
Frisha’s eyes welled with tears. “When you say things like that, my heart listens. It is terribly romantic, but now I wonder if you mean it at all.”
Rezkin frowned. “I assure you that I have met no other woman I would consider marrying. It is not a priority. I will be satisfied to go through life without a spouse, if it would not be you.”
“Do you love me?”
Rezkin stood from his seat and came around to kneel before her. He took her hands and met her gaze. “I have spoken with Farson. I know what you want to hear, but I must honor you with the truth. I will do everything in my power to make you safe and happy. I will give you a kingdom—I will give you every kingdom, if it is your wish. But, if love is what you desire, then it cannot be me.”
Frisha looked longingly into his crystal gaze and then shook her head, her expression pained. “I’m sorry, Rez. I know you’re doing what’s necessary for the kingdom. I can’t understand it all, and I really don’t want to, but”—she took a deep breath—“I support you. You will always have my loyalty.”
“But not your hand?”
She stared at their entwined fingers. It was rare that he touched her so intimately. “Tam says I’m a hopeless romantic, but I had resolved myself to the fact that I would never have true love. I thought I would marry a stranger who would only want me for my uncle’s fortune. Then, I met you, and I had hope. I thought you really cared. A girl dreams of being swept away by a knight in shining armor, not a shadow knight of death. More importantly, she dreams that her knight loves her. I trust that you won’t allow me to marry someone I don’t want. If I am to be given a choice, I want to marry someone who loves me.”
Rezkin lifted her chin and caught her gaze. “Is marriage your dream, Frisha?”
“I—I don’t know. I didn’t think I had a choice.”
“You will not marry until you are ready. I will make sure of it. If becoming a wife and mother is your dream, there is nothing wrong with that. It is a position deserving of respect, equal to any warrior, healer, or mage; but, perhaps you should spend less time thinking of husbands and more time thinking of who you want to be.”
An abrupt pounding on the door woke them from the depth of conversation, and Malcius strode into the room unbidden. “I heard you two were in here alone. Look, Rez, I know you are as good as betrothed, but I am supposed to be her escort. I am responsible for making sure she retains her virtue.”
Rezkin rose to his feet and went back to the seat at his desk. “You are correct, Malcius, and it is especially important now that we have agreed to call off the betrothal.”
“What?” Malcius said in alarm. “No! I mean, you two are supposed to get married. Frisha, tell me he is joking.”
Frisha shook her head and chuckled as she wiped watery eyes. “I don’t think Rez makes jokes.”
Malcius’s face reddened, and he turned on Rezkin. “Did you reject her? Suddenly you have other prospects, and she is not good enough?”
“No, Malcius!” said Frisha. “It was my decision.”
Malcius turned his ire on her. “What is wrong with you? Are you mad? He is king! He is a legitimate prince of Ashai.”
Rezkin clenched his teeth through the tightness in his chest. It was threatening to restrict his breathing, and he would have thought something seriously wrong if he had not already felt similar pain in the past. He now knew it was the pain of loss. It was stronger this time, and he wondered if it was due to the amount of time he had spent in the outworld. Perhaps he was losing his ability to distance himself from his feelings. He needed time to meditate. The stone on his chest heated as his pain grew, and Rezkin focused on the burning discomfort to take his mind from it.
“Malcius, calm yourself,” Rezkin said. “It has been agreed that I cannot give Frisha what she desires most, what she deserves. You are aware, at least in part, of my upbringing. I am not fit to be her husband. As with all of you, I will ensure that she has all that she needs until my support is no longer necessary.”
Malcius shook his head and looked at Frisha. “Who do you intend to marry, then?”
Frisha balled her fists and pushed to her feet, her show of strength slightly marred as she stumbled with the roll of the ship. She righted herself and lifted her chin. “I am not going to marry anyone.”
“But your father and Uncle Marcum—”
“Are not here,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Then, what are you going to do?” Malcius said with genuine concern.
“Well, I’m … I’m going to do … something.” With feigned confidence she said, “I haven’t decided yet, but it will be great.”
Xa entered the room just then and smirked at Frisha’s attempt to stand up for herself.
Malcius nodded toward the Jeng’ri and asked Rezkin, “Why do you keep assigning him to watch the ladies? Is he a eunuch?”
The assassin’s grin fell, and he drew a blade.
Rezkin sighed. “No, he is not a eunuch. At least, not as far as I know. He will protect Frisha, though. Now, all of you out. We will soon arrive, and I do not wish to be disturbed until we do.”
Rezkin barred the door and placed several traps around the room. He ate the food he had prepared earlier to fill his grumbling stomach, yet he was still unsatisfied. He then lay back on his bed to meditate and promptly fell asleep. For the first time in a long while, he dreamt.
The light of the day waned, and he stared into the darkness between the trees. The fire’s heat seeped into his skin, driving out the chill. An owl hooted, and branches creaked as the wind swept through the pass. He heard a woman’s voice, a whisper in the otherwise unbroken melody of the natural world, but he could not understand her words. He turned. He saw her clearly. He knew he had, but a glimpse was all he could remember. A glimpse of silver eyes and hair as white as snow.
Rezkin awoke to shouts announcing their arrival at port, and he realized he must have been asleep for several hours. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and shook his head to chase away the grogginess. Alarmed that he had been so vulnerable in his unexpectedly deep sleep, he surveyed the room from his bed but found no evidence of an intruder. He sat up, and when he lifted his eyes, his heart immediately burst into a gallop as he saw two orange orbs staring at him from across the room. The wood-like creature had taken on the rough form of a table, a table with a face looking out from its columnar pedestal.
He exhaled in a rush. “Bilior, what do you want?”
The table twisted and snapped as the katerghen took its usual form. It stood awkwardly with one arm out to the side and its head tilted at an angle. Its leaves rattled, and the sound of rain, for once, was not coming from outside.