accomplish his ends, not violence. This was part of him, she knew, but she hoped, prayed, it was one their victory would allow him to set aside.
Keris lifted a hand and pointed downriver to where the vessel the Usurper had intended to use was As if hearing her thoughts, he began unbuckling the armor, dropping pieces of it onto the deck with loud thumps, clothing following suit. The lamplight illuminated the muscles of his body, and she trailed her eyes over every hard line and curve before he slipped under the blanket with her.
“Don’t think about taking liberties,” he murmured as she rested her head on his chest, their bodies fitting together as though some higher power had designed them as a pair. “I feel as though a herd of horses has galloped over me not once, but twice. I couldn’t manage it.”
Her mouth curved in a smile. “Liar.”
Keris didn’t answer, only reached out a hand to turn down the lamp, allowing them to look out the rear of the cabin at the dark river. And the glitter of stars in the sky above.
There were so many things to say. So many uncertainties ahead of them that they needed to plan for, but Zarrah found she couldn’t put voice to any of them. She didn’t want to talk about the future, because it was not a future with them together, for they couldn’t abandon their kingdoms and expect Keris wordlessly caught her, lifting her into his arms while Saam went to the boat, drawing it close peace to continue.
And she would not be his queen.
Keris’s fingers trailed up and down her spine, making her toes curl, an ache forming low in her belly despite her body being in no condition to do anything about it. Her jaw trembled as frustration built in her heart, the future terrifying her, the present not satisfying her, which left only the past to content her. “Tell me our story,” she whispered. “From the beginning.”
His fingers stilled on her spine, and for a heartbeat, she regretted speaking. Then he resumed the motion, saying, “I don’t know all of it. Some of it is hidden inside your head.”
“I’ll tell those parts.”
“All right,” he answered quietly. “I suppose it begins on Southwatch. I believed I was traveling through the bridge to attend university in Harendell, but unbeknownst to me, I was part of my father’s plans to invade Ithicana.”
She bit her lip, then winced as he cleaned the long scratches down her cheek, his brow furrowed in Zarrah watched the stars as he spoke, telling her the story of their love, giving her a thousand little details that she hadn’t known, even as she did the same, their accounts painting a picture so vivid, it was as though they were experiencing it all again. Every heartbreak and sorrow. Every victory and pleasure. Everything revealed, so that it was no longer his memories and hers, but a singular one that they shared. One that, every time they looked up at the sky, they’d see written in the stars.
It was only as dawn lit the sky, the boat rocking as Saam set it loose into the current and stepped in at the stern, that she said, “I’m afraid of what is to come.”
“No matter what happens, no matter what is decided, I will be with you,” he answered, and a single tear rolled down Zarrah’s cheek, because whether he was deceiving her or himself, it mattered little.
Their story was drawing to a close.
Which was only half the truth, for he wore it well. He looked the part of the blood-soaked commander who’d led an army to victory, but that was not how she wanted to see him. The man she loved carried a book, not a sword. Had fingers stained with ink, not blood. Used words to
accomplish his ends, not violence. This was part of him, she knew, but she hoped, prayed, it was one their victory would allow him to set aside.
As if hearing her thoughts, he began unbuckling the armor, dropping pieces of it onto the deck with loud thumps, clothing following suit. The lamplight illuminated the muscles of his body, and she trailed her eyes over every hard line and curve before he slipped under the blanket with her.
“Don’t think about taking liberties,” he murmured as she rested her head on his chest, their bodies fitting together as though some higher power had designed them as a pair. “I feel as though a herd of horses has galloped over me not once, but twice. I couldn’t manage it.”
Her mouth curved in a smile. “Liar.”
Keris didn’t answer, only reached out a hand to turn down the lamp, allowing them to look out the rear of the cabin at the dark river. And the glitter of stars in the sky above.
There were so many things to say. So many uncertainties ahead of them that they needed to plan for, but Zarrah found she couldn’t put voice to any of them. She didn’t want to talk about the future, because it was not a future with them together, for they couldn’t abandon their kingdoms and expect peace to continue.
And she would not be his queen.
Keris’s fingers trailed up and down her spine, making her toes curl, an ache forming low in her belly despite her body being in no condition to do anything about it. Her jaw trembled as frustration built in her heart, the future terrifying her, the present not satisfying her, which left only the past to content her. “Tell me our story,” she whispered. “From the beginning.”
His fingers stilled on her spine, and for a heartbeat, she regretted speaking. Then he resumed the motion, saying, “I don’t know all of it. Some of it is hidden inside your head.”
“I’ll tell those parts.”
“All right,” he answered quietly. “I suppose it begins on Southwatch. I believed I was traveling through the bridge to attend university in Harendell, but unbeknownst to me, I was part of my father’s plans to invade Ithicana.”
Zarrah watched the stars as he spoke, telling her the story of their love, giving her a thousand little details that she hadn’t known, even as she did the same, their accounts painting a picture so vivid, it was as though they were experiencing it all again. Every heartbreak and sorrow. Every victory and pleasure. Everything revealed, so that it was no longer his memories and hers, but a singular one that they shared. One that, every time they looked up at the sky, they’d see written in the stars.
It was only as dawn lit the sky, the boat rocking as Saam set it loose into the current and stepped in at the stern, that she said, “I’m afraid of what is to come.”
“No matter what happens, no matter what is decided, I will be with you,” he answered, and a single tear rolled down Zarrah’s cheek, because whether he was deceiving her or himself, it mattered little.
Their story was drawing to a close.
THE LAST THING Keris wanted to do was put his sweaty clothes and blood-splattered armor back on, but not only was there nothing else for him to wear, there was every chance he’d need the trappings of violence in the moments to come. Part of him wondered if there’d ever come a
day when he could take them off.
He helped Zarrah dress, the grimace of pain on her face making him wish there were a way to bring Petra back to life so that she could be killed again, this time by him. But he kept those thoughts to himself, focusing on helping her comb tangles from her hair and clean away the blood that had seeped from her wounds during the night.
His voice was hoarse from talking for hours on end, but Keris wouldn’t have given up last night for all the gold in the world, for it was perhaps the most precious night of his life. He briefly considered the idea of putting it to paper one day before he rejected the notion. Too much of them belonged to others. The whole of it needed to live with them and die with them, to be theirs alone.