“We shouldn’t have ridden like that yesterday,” he said. “That was irresponsible of me.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I needed that far more than I needed not to.”
“Still.”
I finished the first and took another crisp square.
“Why didn’t you leave?” he asked me, not looking at me. “This morning, when I thought you were gone—I was a little relieved,” he admitted, his voice soft.
“Relieved?” I repeated. My heart lurched in my chest, thinking of my bold thoughts this morning.
He was looking at the stone walls. “That you weren’t going back to him.”
I shook my head. “There are too many people at risk,” I told him. “I have to go back.” For now. Until I can figure out how to leave him safely.
He glanced at me, then away, opening his mouth.
“Are you afraid of heights?” I asked quickly, spitting out crumbs to try to speak before he could.
He looked at me, offended and confused. “What? No.”
“You can tell me if you are. This morning, on the rock, you looked …” Scared. “Uneasy.”
His head whipped away from me. “I’m not afraid of heights,” he snapped, going closer to the window.
“What was it, then?” I asked. “It’s all right if you are.”
“Three hells, Shalia, I’m not afraid of heights,” he growled. “I think I’m a little afraid of you.”
My eyes blinked wide at this.
He looked at me, leaning against the window ledge and crossing his arms. “You just—you don’t realize what you do. Zeph and Theron—they’re hardened killers, but they’re puppies for you. And Kairos loves you. You just—you make people love you, Shalia. And I’m not talking about—about other sorts of love. It just looked—it felt—it looked like a family. Like a family is supposed to feel.”
I pushed the food away, putting my legs off the side of the bed slowly, like he was an animal and might spook. Things tumbled through my mind, about his sister, his brother, his father. “Family frightens you,” I said softly.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, resolutely looking at the ground. “Wanting family frightens me.”
I stood, staying close to the bed. “Why?”
A dark red color flushed through his cheeks, even as the muscles in his jaw rolled and bunched. “I’ve committed a lot of sins in the name of family,” he said, his voice low and harsh, like the sound was caught in his throat.
“But it’s different, isn’t it?” I asked.
He looked at me, and I felt like I was standing too close to him suddenly, because there was something open and raw in his eyes. “Wanting a woman?” he asked. “Children? It’s different.”
Imagining him with some other woman and with some other children felt different—and sharp—too. “But still frightening.”
His eyes shut, and every muscle in his face looked tense. “Yes. I can’t want that, Shalia.”
I waited. I knew I didn’t have to say the word for him to know that I was waiting to hear why.
His throat worked, and his voice was rougher when he spoke. “I’m no good at caring about people.” His eyes opened, and the openness there betrayed something new, a wound inside him that he’d never let me see before.
My skin prickled a warning, but I stepped closer. My heart ached for him, for his loneliness, for his pain. I reached for his hand, to reassure him with a touch like I would my brothers, but I couldn’t. It would be different, and more. I cleared my throat and let my hand fall, trying to sound steady and strong. “I think you’re wrong. But your believing that matters much more.”
For long heartbeats, I looked at him, and he stared into my eyes. His mouth opened and closed, and whatever more there was to say, neither of us could find the words to say it.
I stepped back. “I assume you came to get me for the feast?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Give me a moment to change.”
He stood still for a moment, then bowed his head and left.
The feast was served on a wide platform at the top of the mountain, a beautiful scene lit by flickering torchlight. The vestai’s wife was kind enough to make a few more items she thought I could stomach, and I ate my first full meal in days by virtue of it. When musicians started to play, the city folk immediately jumped up to dance. Within moments I saw a pretty girl teaching Kairos the dance.
It wasn’t terribly hard—it seemed like a slightly slower version of the dances we did in the desert. There was a lot of jumping and swinging, but instead of a group, this was done with just two people, turning each other around while you held on to your partner.
“Does the queen know our dances?” Vestai Nikan asked, bowing in front of me.
“I don’t,” I told him.
“May I have the honor of teaching you?” he said, straightening up and extending his hand.
“Be gentle, Niki!” his wife warned.
“Yes, please!” I said with a careful smile that didn’t push my cheeks up as I put my hand in his.
He led my hand to his hip, and he put his on my opposite hip so we could hold on to each other. He was gentle and quite respectful, but as we danced I saw how this could be so thrilling, to hold your love tight and whirl around under the stars.
One of the vestai’s teenage sons stole me from his father, and he held me much tighter and closer, so our bodies were pressed side by side as we turned and jumped. He smiled wolfishly, holding me closer still as the dance went on.
The musicians paused for a moment, and we stopped jumping. I pulled away from the vestai’s son, thanking him for the dance. He stepped forward like he meant to ask me for another as the musicians started again, but I found a new hand on my hip.
“My turn, Niko,” Galen told the young man. The boy scoffed, but he bowed out.
I shivered as Galen’s hand took a firmer hold of my hip. “This might be a terrible idea,” I whispered to him.
He nodded, but his eyes were locked on mine. I barely felt the motion as we began to dance, until the first jump brought us closer, his hard chest and side supporting me. He swung me faster, and a nervous, happy laugh bubbled out of me.
As the dance sped up, I forgot to be so conscious of him and we just danced together. He was good at it, fast and strong, and as he spun me around, I tilted back to look up at the stars, glittering overhead.
He pulled me back up as the dance ended, and we were face-to-face, chest-to-chest, breathing hard.
My eyes dropped, and I couldn’t stop staring at his lips, the way his breath rasped out over them, making his bottom lip shiver the tiniest amount.
Kiss him.
I pulled back sharply. I’d never consciously wanted to kiss someone in my whole entire life. As soon as it occurred to me, I couldn’t stop thinking it, and the idea alone caused my stomach to twist in a lovely, nervous way that made my whole body warm.