“If you don’t know, perhaps you should try seeing with my eyes.”
He kissed her warmly, pulling her tight. He recalled what Hadrian had said and wondered if he was being stupid for not settling down with Gwen. He had noticed for some time a growing pain whenever he said goodbye and a misery that dogged him whenever he left. Royce had never meant for it to happen. He always tried to keep her at a distance, for her own good as well as his. His life was dangerous and only possible so long as he had no ties, nothing others could use against him.
Winters had caused him to crack. Deep snows and brutal cold kept Riyria idle in Medford for months. Huddled before the warmth of hearth fires through the long dark nights, they had grown close. Casual chats had turned into long intimate conversations, and conversations had changed to embraces and confessions. Royce found it impossible to resist her open kindness and generosity. She was so unlike anyone, an enigma that flew in the face of all he had come to expect from the world. She made no demands and asked for nothing but his happiness.
His feelings for Gwen had led to Royce and Hadrian’s longest imprisonment, six years earlier. They had taken a job in the spring, sending them all the way to Alburn. The thought of leaving her dragged on him like a weight, especially because she was not feeling well. Gwen had contracted the flu and looked miserable. She claimed it was nothing, but she looked pale and barely ate. He almost did not go but she insisted. He could still remember her face with that brave little smile that had quivered oh so slightly at the edges as he had left her.
The job had gone badly. Royce’s concentration had suffered, mistakes had been made, and they had been left rotting in the dungeons of Blythin Castle. All he could do was sit and think about Gwen and wonder whether she was all right. As the months stretched out, he had begun to realize that if he survived, he would need to end their relationship. He resolved never to see her again, for both of their sakes. But the moment he had returned, the moment he had seen her again, felt her hands and smelled her hair, he knew leaving her would never be possible. Since that time, his feelings had only increased. Even now, the thought of leaving her, even for a week, was agony.
Hadrian was right. He should quit and take her away somewhere, perhaps get a small bit of land where they could raise a family. Somewhere quiet where no one knew Gwen as a prostitute or him as a thief. They could even go to Avempartha, that ancient citadel of his people. The tower stood vacant, far beyond the reaches of anyone who did not know its secrets, and would likely remain that way indefinitely. The thought was appealing, but he pushed it back, telling himself he would revisit it soon. For now, he had people waiting, which brought his mind back to Hadrian.
“I suppose I could look into Esrahaddon’s story. Hadrian would be a fool for dedicating his life to someone else’s dream, but at least I’d know it was genuine and not some kind of wizard’s trick.”
“How can you find out?”
“Hadrian grew up in Hintindar. If his father was a Teshlor Knight, maybe he left behind some indication. At least then I would have someone else’s word instead of just Esrahaddon’s. Our job is taking us south. I could make a stop in Hintindar and see if I can find something out. By the way,” he told her gently, “I’ll be gone a good deal longer than I have been. I want you to know so you don’t worry needlessly.”
“I never worry about you,” she told him.
Royce’s face reflected his pain.
Gwen smiled. “I know you’ll return safely.”
“And how do you know this?”
“I’ve seen your hands.”
Royce looked at her, confused.
“I’ve read your palms, Royce,” she told him without a trace of humor. “Or have you forgotten I also make a living as a fortune-teller?”
Royce had not forgotten, but had assumed it was just a way of swindling the superstitious. Not until that moment did he realize how inconsistent it would be for Gwen to deceive people.
“You have a long life ahead of you,” she went on. “Too long—that was one of the clues that you weren’t completely human.”
“So I have nothing to worry about in my future?”
Gwen’s smile faded abruptly.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me,” he persisted, gently lifting her chin until she met his eyes.
“It’s just that … you need to watch out for Hadrian.”
“Did you look at his palms too?”
“No,” she said, “but your lifeline shows a fork, a point of decision. You’ll head either into darkness and despair or virtue and light. This decision will be precipitated by a traumatic event.”
“What kind of event?”
“The death of the one you love the most.”