“For the time being. At least until we take it back.”
I let my emotions—anxiety, longing, anger, fear, homesickness—out in a loud puff of breath. “It seems so impossible.”
“The people of Inselgrau are disgruntled, Evie.” Gideon leaned over and went to work on his bootlaces. “They’re afraid of Thibodaux and his thugs, but they’re eager to see them cast out. There are more believers there than you know, and a group of them are working to keep your name alive. Your reputation has grown in your absence—it’s almost cultlike, the devotion. You wouldn’t believe the stories they tell about you. There’s one about you and a dragon—” He stopped and snorted. “That’s what we need to tap into. That kind of faith...” He shook his head, and his expression turned dark. “Your power would be immeasurable.”
“Don’t say it like that.” I went to him and knelt at his feet. Smacking his hands away, I finished untying his laces and slipped off one boot. “I’m just me. I’ll always be just me.”
He set one of his big hands over mine as I reached for his other boot. “You’re a queen, Evie. A daughter of gods. You’re not just anything.”
I forced a smile and tugged off his other boot. “Then you’ll be there to keep me grounded.”
“What if that’s not the best thing for you?” He slid from the chair and sat on the floor before me so that we were eye to eye. “I’m here to protect you, not to hold you back from achieving your potential.”
“Gideon, I—”
He pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me. “I know where I come from. I know where you come from. Don’t think I’m not aware of the disparities between us.”
I pulled away, frowning. Anger warmed my cheeks. “Do you think that matters to me? Royal blood or peasant? Whatever gave you the idea that I give a damn about class or rank—particularly when it comes to personal relationships?”
“I know you don’t, but maybe you should. When you take that throne, there will be much more to think about than what you or I want. You have the needs of a country to consider, and you’ll have to do what’s best for your people. I won’t stand in your way.”
“You won’t stand in my way? I was just standing in your arms, and during all those days you were gone, that’s the only place I really wanted to be. Even more than I wanted to be back home on Inselgrau.”
A pained look crossed his face. He opened his mouth, probably to protest.
I mimicked his earlier gesture and pressed my finger to his lips, silencing him. “Maybe you doubt yourself sometimes. I do, too, because that’s what it means to be human. I assure you, Gideon Faust, that while my heart may be made of iron, I am not a machine. Don’t expect me to ever act like one.”
I climbed to my feet and backed away. “For now the plan stands as it is. We get Jackie out of the Basilica di Magia. We’ll worry about what comes next after that. How do you feel about underwater cave diving at night?”
He stood and stretched. His back popped. “Is that really your plan?”
“I’m not sure.” I searched the desk in my room and found a bit of parchment, a jar of ink, and a fountain pen. “But that’s what we’ll find out tomorrow night. I’ll make a list of supplies for Niffin to gather for us tomorrow morning. If you think of anything you need, add it to the list.”
“What about me? What can I do?”
I squinted at him. “When was the last time you got a full night’s rest?”
His gaze drifted upward as he seemed to be searching his memory for an answer.
“Not recently enough, apparently.” I set one hand on my hip and pointed at the bed. “Get some sleep. I need you sharp and focused tomorrow night.”
“I don’t need sleep for that.” He scowled.
I bit back a retort and, instead, offered a gentle smile. “I admire your passion and how, despite the fact you’re probably exhausted and haven’t slept for more than a couple of hours at a time over the past few months, you’re determined to reconnoiter the Council of Magic’s very private and very guarded island.”
“Using my own words against me?” He ducked his chin and grinned. “Smart.”
“Go to bed. Please?”
He rubbed his eyes and gave me a bleary look. My heart went out to him. He’s run himself ragged for me. How can I repay all his sacrifices?
Your grandmother loved me like that, Grandfather said. All she ever asked was that I love her in return. And I did. I gave her my all.
“Only if you promise to get some rest too,” Gideon said.
I nodded. “I’ll will. I promise.”
After he lay down, I tiptoed to the balcony outside my room but paused when I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass doors. A nest of frizzy curls framed my pale and gaunt face. This whole affair had taken a toll on Gideon and me both. Things would likely only get worse before they got better. If they got better at all.
Later, when I’d had enough wind and humid air, I came inside and found Gideon lying on top of the bed covers, passed out on his stomach. His breathing was heavy and steady, the breath of a person who’d fully surrendered to sleep. The urge to touch him, stroke the loose lock of hair off his brow, burned in my fingertips, but I resisted, not wanting to wake him.
Curling up next to him, I listened to him breathe, and the sound of it was my favorite lullaby.
Chapter 18
Shortly before lunchtime, Gideon and I woke to an empty hotel suite. Niffin had left a note explaining he, Malita, and Brigette had gone out to gather supplies and would return before nightfall. I asked Gideon if he wanted to order room service or if he preferred following our noses to a nearby café. He chose the latter.
I waited in the sitting room for him while he washed up and changed clothes. “If you need to stock up on personal supplies,” I called through the bedroom door, “we can do some shopping too. Your friend Brahm made sure we were well off.”
The door opened, and Gideon stepped out, toweling his damp hair. He looked like a workman in sturdy but worn canvas pants and suspenders over a homespun shirt rolled to his forearms. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.” He hung his towel over the back of a chair and sat to tug on his boots. “How things went with the Schulzes.”
I combed my fingers through his hair, smoothing his cowlicks. “Hannah is a horror.”
“She is, isn’t she?” He chuckled and finished tying his laces. Then he stood and strapped Sephonie, his crossbow, onto his back. Perhaps the average gentleman didn’t wear weapons in public, or had the decency to keep them hidden beneath their coats, but Gideon was no average gentleman. He was a warrior at heart and the future captain of my guard. His crossbow was as much a part of him as were his blood and bones.
“Brahm’s not so bad. I liked him a lot, actually.” I grabbed a shoulder bag with my Thunder Cloak and a bit of money stashed inside, laced my fingers between Gideon’s, and trailed him out of the hotel into a blessedly temperate day. The storm the night before must have brought in dryer air. A salty, cool breeze trailed us down the street.
As we walked, I told him everything that happened during his absence, from the fight with the band of street urchins in Petregrad to the train trip and meeting Brahm during the battle with a band of angry Dreutch farmers. I told him how we’d found Brigette and about Hannah’s scheme to either have me fight Lord Daeg or steal his Magician away. We reached a corner café and took seats at a sidewalk table where we could watch boats float up and down the canal. We shared plates of butter-drenched prawns and scallops, and I told him about meeting his father. “He wanted you to know the Schulzes are taking good care of him.”
