I straighten, shocked by my luck, but I try not to seem too eager. “I’d be happy to. But…would you mind checking out the window? To make sure the sun’s already set.”
Asha turns toward the nearest window, which is curtained heavily (this entire wing is, at Evander’s command). She pulls it aside carefully and peeks out. “All clear,” she says before she follows me heartily to her undoing.
“I’m honestly surprised you want to be out here at night,” I say as Asha and I stroll through the gardens. Even though summer has officially permeated Dwellen, there’s still an evening chill that washes over the land once the sun sets.
I find it invigorating, but it’s rather clear the queen does not. She’s wrapped herself in a burgundy coat, one I’m sure Ellie gifted her, and a fur scarf obscures her neck.
It doesn’t seem quite cold enough for all of that, but then again, I wasn’t raised in the desert either.
It also occurs to me that the scarf covering Asha’s neck might be for my benefit, though I’ve found my cravings, while potent, never seem to get as out of hand as they did for Nox.
As they do for Nox, I remind myself.
As with any time I catch myself thinking of him in the past tense, my stomach twists.
I quicken my pace, making for the tree line.
“I had it in my head that I would love the cold,” Asha says, rolling her one eye at herself. “It always seemed so romantic. All the best stories have at least one scene set in the snow-capped mountains. Maybe the snow is worth it, but I’ve yet to see it, and I can’t imagine it’s worth feeling as though my joints are going to freeze together.”
I let out a half-hearted chuckle, fogging the air in front of me. “Maybe you should take your walks during the day, then.”
She peers down at me, only slightly taller than me, but still. Maybe it’s that missing eye of hers that makes her seem so much taller. “I don’t mind it so much,” she says carefully.
I get the gnawing sensation that her nighttime walk was intentional. That she’s been waiting for a time when I could accompany her. But why?
My gut twists inside me. Asha has a trace of the Old Magic inside her. It knows things, stories, it shouldn’t. Has it seen visions of my plans with Az? Does Asha know what I intend to do, and she’s simply leading me into a trap?
Panic surges inside me, and I find my senses flitting around the garden, focusing in on the rustle of birds in the trees, the gentle hum of earthworms squirming in the dirt, the padding of raccoons among the vegetables.
But I feel no one else.
No one aside from him, at least.
“Are you all right?” Asha’s hand twitches, like she intends to take mine, but she simply frowns and says, “Kiran told me.”
A lump forms in my throat. “About what?” I ask, not because I don’t know, but because I want to postpone the inevitable. The moment the queen attempts to show me compassion the second before I betray her.
“About Nox. Kiran told me. Not everything, but enough.”
I don’t know why, but something about the fact that both Kiran and Asha have bothered to remember his name when they’ve never even met him has my eyes burning.
My voice is shaking, but I try my best to steady it. To maintain the nonchalant demeanor I’ve always found so practical. “Yes, well, then I suppose he also told you I’ve gone and fallen in love with my torturer. Evander hasn’t said much about it, but I’m sure he’s thrilled.”
Asha smiles, though it’s somewhat pained. “I think you’ll find that Kiran is unlikely to pass that sort of judgment.”
Something is squeezing at my ribcage, threatening to wrench the air out of me. Throughout Alondria, Kiran is known for his villainy. I’m not sure his sparing of Asha will ever change that. I’m not sure anything he does to atone for his sins will ever change how everyone perceives him. He has a bloodstain on his reputation, one that no launderer can cleanse.
I know what that’s like.
Nox does too.
I hate relating to Kiran, hate relating to Asha. And I’m so, so tired of the shame, the guilt that only ever rots holes on my insides, never binding me up or turning me from my set path.
I shake my head; I’m being stupid. Just a few hours ago, I was fine, the wall around my heart completely intact. I don’t understand why I can push these feelings away one minute, then be bombarded by them the next.
We’re close to the tree line now. Close enough that the scent of pine curls in tendrils around my nostrils.
Someone’s heart pumps behind a nearby tree.
I can sense him, recognize him.
I’m confident Asha cannot.
There’s a faint glow coming from the lanterns strung up around the garden that highlights Asha’s harsh features. Enough light that, should any of the guards patrolling the gardens walk by, they’d see everything.
More importantly, they’d see I was with her when it happened.
They’d know I didn’t try to help, like I’ll claim later when questioned about her disappearance.
Just a few more steps, and we’ll be safely tucked away into the darkness, where no guard can contradict my story, the story Az has woven on my tongue.
I’m doing this for Nox, I remind myself.
Because that’s what love is. Having no boundary you wouldn’t cross, no wall you wouldn’t shatter, no world you wouldn’t burn for that person.
That’s what love is.
It’s what it has to be, because otherwise I don’t think I can claim it, and I can’t bear to think that perhaps I don’t actually love Nox.
