Her dark eyes were full of panic as she fought to get air into her lungs, and Keris wanted to scream in rage at what had been done to her. Petra, with her heartless guile, had turned Zarrah against herself, stripping the woman he loved of her confidence, her fearlessness, her brilliance. And she’d used him to do it.
“I can’t …” She was shaking like a leaf, tears coating her cheeks. “I don’t know who I am
anymore. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You are Zarrah Anaphora,” he said. “The daughter of Aryana Anaphora, who was the named heir of Ephraim Anaphora. You are a warrior. A general. And by Valcottan law, the rightful empress of this empire. You are in Arakis to join forces with an army capable of overthrowing your aunt, who unlawfully usurped the throne and murdered your mother. And once you have succeeded in liberating Valcotta from her tyranny, you will end the Endless War and bring peace to the Empire.”
Zarrah drew in a long, shuddering breath, then nodded once. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was. I’m fine now.”
She wasn’t fine, had only wrestled her emotions back behind walls, where they’d simmer until something caused them to boil over again. Petra had had most of Zarrah’s life to sink her claws deep.
She’d woven the threads of her niece’s psyche and knew exactly which ones to tug to unravel the whole. Whether there were more threads to be pulled remained to be seen, and the thought terrified him.
She shivered, and instinctively he pulled her closer. Zarrah molded against him, arms around his waist. She felt limp, exhausted, as though their conversation had stolen every ounce of energy she possessed.
“I can go ask for more wood for the fire.” His voice rasped, and he coughed to clear it, painfully aware of the press of her naked skin against his. Of the taste of her still lingering on his lips. “We may be here for a while.”
“Not yet,” she answered, her head resting against his uninjured shoulder. “The soldiers might still be in the building. Or come back. Better to wait.”
“Right.”
Reaching down, he pulled the cheap silk sheets over her bare legs, easing her down onto the bed so that they were facing each other. His shoulder felt like it was trying to murder him from within, but Keris ignored the pain to lift his hand and brush her hair from her face.
The corner of Zarrah’s mouth turned up, but her eyes were full of sadness. “What are we doing, Keris? How many times will we come together, only for circumstance to pull us apart?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, pain, old and new, welling in his heart.
“Is there a future for us?” she asked. “Is there a path forward I’m not seeing that allows everything we’re fighting for to coexist with us spending our nights in each other’s arms?”
The word yes tried to push its way from his lips, but he swallowed it down. “No.”
“Then why do we keep trying?” Her lip quivered, and he watched her bite down on it, warring with emotions. “Why do we inflict such suffering upon ourselves? Why do we come together,
knowing that the wound will inevitably be torn open again?”
He didn’t want to answer these questions. Wanted to close his mouth over hers to silence them, because to answer would be to impose logic on matters of the heart. Instead he cleared his throat, voice hoarse as he said, “For my part, it is the absence from you that cuts deepest, the wound growing crueler with every hour, day, week that I cannot see your face or hear your voice. The hope that our separation will end, even briefly, allows me to endure the pain, but if I were to lose that hope, I think the wound would fester until it consumed me entirely.”
Her dark eyes were full of panic as she fought to get air into her lungs, and Keris wanted to scream
“Don’t say such things,” she whispered. “It sounds like prophesy.”
in rage at what had been done to her. Petra, with her heartless guile, had turned Zarrah against herself, Keris looked away, hating that word, though he didn’t know why.
“It’s what I dreamed about while I was in the bath waiting for you,” she said. “A future where all that we desire comes to pass, crowns on our heads and peace between our nations. A world where our union would be accepted. Yet even then, I could not see my way through, as to rule, we must reside in our nations’ hearts. You in Vencia. Me in Pyrinat. For you know as well as I do that the moment we turn our backs, darker minds will try to secure power. You risk as much even now by being here.”
She was not wrong. There was no doubt in his mind that his brothers were plotting how to be rid of him, and those next in line would all be quick to fan the fires of war.
“And what if we had children. How—”
“Stop.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Please stop.”
Zarrah fell silent, the only sound the endless beat of the drum and the faint cries of patrons in the throes of thoughtless pleasure.
“I don’t know what is worse,” she said. “To stop now and endure the pain of what might have been or to keep going, knowing that there will come a moment when I lose it all.”
“You don’t need to decide now, Zarrah.” Nor did he want her to, because she’d never chosen him.
Not once. It was always her people, her honor, her country, which was why he knew she’d be an empress for the ages. He admired her virtue and yet hated it in equal measure, for it hurt them both so deeply.
“I know,” she answered. “But until I do decide, I will pursue no intimacy between us. I wish only to take that step with a clear mind and certain heart.”
aware of the press of her naked skin against his. Of the taste of her still lingering on his lips. “We may When it came to her, his heart was always certain. Always stalwart in its need to choose her and only her, no matter the cost. But he would not change who she was for the sake of protecting his heart, so Keris only nodded.
They lay in silence, her forehead pressed against his chest, as they waited for Miri to bring word it was safe for them to depart. After a time, he noticed Zarrah’s breathing had slowed, a steady rise and Reaching down, he pulled the cheap silk sheets over her bare legs, easing her down onto the bed sofall against him. Asleep.
Keris’s chest tightened, sick on the emotions that churned within him, but as the fire burned low, he held her close, warding away the cold even if he was powerless to ward away the doubts that plagued her. Wishing that he could freeze time so as to live in this moment because Keris knew it wouldn’t last.
Sure enough, as soon as the thought crossed his mind, the handle on the door twisted and swung open, Zarrah jerking awake as Daria appeared in the entrance. The woman gave them a once-over, then grinned. “Good to see you alive, Your Graces.”
voice hoarse as he said, “For my part, it is the absence from you that cuts deepest, the wound growing She was not wrong. There was no doubt in his mind that his brothers were plotting how to be rid of
“Stop.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Please stop.”
Zarrah fell silent, the only sound the endless beat of the drum and the faint cries of patrons in the throes of thoughtless pleasure.
“I don’t know what is worse,” she said. “To stop now and endure the pain of what might have been or to keep going, knowing that there will come a moment when I lose it all.”
“You don’t need to decide now, Zarrah.” Nor did he want her to, because she’d never chosen him.
Not once. It was always her people, her honor, her country, which was why he knew she’d be an empress for the ages. He admired her virtue and yet hated it in equal measure, for it hurt them both so deeply.
“I know,” she answered. “But until I do decide, I will pursue no intimacy between us. I wish only to take that step with a clear mind and certain heart.”
When it came to her, his heart was always certain. Always stalwart in its need to choose her and only her, no matter the cost. But he would not change who she was for the sake of protecting his heart, so Keris only nodded.