“But you are leaving,” she said with distress. “I want you to stay.”
He sighed. “Believe me, this is painful for me also, Maia. Your kingdom is so vulnerable right now. You are vulnerable. I want to be here for you. To help you take your first steps as the ruler of Comoros. But it is as I told you. You are the heir. It is yours to rule by right, not mine. Simon will help you. He will deliver my letters to you.”
“You will write to me?” she asked, pulling away and looking up at him hopefully.
“Every day,” he replied. He stared into her eyes, his face full of shadows. Stubble covered his chin and jaw. She realized he had not been sleeping; he had watched over her during the night.
“I could come to your realm through the Apse Veil?” she suggested. She was aware of the warmth coming from him. Aware she was wearing a thin chemise and he was still dressed in his clothes—his disguise as he prepared to cross the sea to Dahomey in one of Simon’s cargo ships.
He pulled her cheek against his chest and then started stroking her hair again. “I will be at war, not near the abbey. What were you dreaming about, my love?”
She scrunched her face at the memory. “It was awful.”
“Tell me,” he said soothingly.
She could hear his heartbeat beneath the padded shirt. It was soothing, repetitive. “I was in Dahomey.”
He grunted. “That does not sound terrible to me,” he joked.
“It was the cursed shores. Spider bites and ticks.”
“Ah, yes. That is not a place where I intend to build a palace for us. Go on.”
“There was a place there. A place full of bones, topped with a Leering. A graveyard, really. We found it while we were looking for the lost abbey. My heart was heavy . . . so heavy. It felt like I was drowning in sadness.” She shook her head a little, pressing her nose against his shirt. “It was terrible. The kishion was there.” She shuddered, grateful for the comfort of Collier’s presence.
“Him again. Was it a dream?” he asked her.
“I thought not at first,” she replied. “I was afraid that falling asleep in the castle had doomed me. To be truthful, I do not even remember falling asleep.”
She heard the chuckle in his breath. “It happened quite quickly, I assure you. You are exhausted, Maia. You changed into your chemise and were asleep within moments of lying down on the pillow. You tried to talk to me at first, but I could see it was pointless.”
She smiled in embarrassment, hiding her face further. “I am sorry. I do remember that. I so wanted to talk before you left. Have you been awake all night?”
His hand rested on the back of her neck. “It is night still,” he answered. “Though I was going to wake you soon, for I must leave. You were sleeping peacefully, Maia. It was only at the end that you seemed disturbed. I enjoyed watching you sleep.”
She pulled away, brushing some hair behind her ear, and looked into his piercing blue eyes.
“You do not understand, do you?” he said wryly. “You are beautiful, Maia. I could watch you always and never grow tired of it.”
There was a burning feeling in her chest, one that throbbed with happiness, and it extinguished the fear and sorrow that had clung to her from her dream. She let herself bask in the feeling for a moment, but only a moment.
“I have never fully trusted handsome men,” she confided. “I will not always be young. My father’s behavior taught me that most men cannot be trusted.” It was a fear she had held in her chest ever since she had admitted to herself that she loved him.
His look grew serious. “A fair accusation. Considering how we met and my . . . disposition at the time, I have given you reason to think your fears are justified. At the time, I was not a man worthy of your good faith.” He had the good grace to look abashed and she loved him all the more for it. An uncomfortable silence hung between them, but then he looked up and gazed into her eyes. “But I am not that man anymore.”
She licked her lips. “You have changed, Collier. So have I.” She swallowed, summoning her courage. “I want this to work. Between us. I am still . . . fearful, but I trust you.”
“Do not prove me by my words,” he said seriously. “Prove me by my actions. You are a treasure to me, Maia.” He slid his fingers into her hair gently. “You are worth more than a ransom to me.”
Her heart felt like it would burst. “Come back to me,” she whispered, taking his other hand in hers and squeezing his fingers. “Please come back to me!”
A small quirk twisted on his mouth. “With such an incentive, I pity the King of Paeiz. He will regret the day he chose to invade Dahomey. I will do my best to defeat him and perhaps even win him to our cause. You will not stand against the Victus alone, Maia. Neither storms nor gales will keep me away.”