Zarrah’s resolve faltered as he scrubbed tears from his cheeks. But before she could speak, he said, how it was going to be. For you to stand here “You say there is no going back, and I respect that, but I must ask if there is a way forward. As political allies.”
“Didn’t you?” His voice was cool, but the pulse at his throat was rapid. “We planned together how This was what she’d wanted from him, yet Zarrah felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach.
“Petra needs to be removed from power,” Keris pressed on, though she didn’t miss how his hands balled into fists. Her own nails were also digging into her palms. “Neither nation will know peace if your ships into legitimate battle to expel my father from Ithicana, it would have been oil on the flames she keeps the crown, and you and I, working together, are best equipped to remove her. So as Maridrina’s king, I’d like to offer a formal alliance to the rightful empress of Valcotta so that our yourself in battle, you’d have been executed as a traitor for having failed to follow Petra’s orders. I’d nations might achieve mutual desirable ends.” Then he stuck out his hand like a market trader sealing alive with a shattered heart in the ashes of a future that you burned, and I challenge you a deal.
Zarrah stared at the hand that knew every curve of her body. That had touched her in ways no one else had. And no one else would.
This is the right choice, the voice in her head whispered. The right path forward for Valcotta.
But could she hold to it?
forward, not even because it was the best path forward, but because it satisfied your honor, your need Shoving aside the thought, Zarrah gripped his hand, the heat of it chasing away the chill in her own fingers. “I accept.”
Their hands remained clasped for longer than was appropriate; then Keris pulled away.
“Right, then. We should probably start on our way. Jor informed me it’s a long walk.” He recorked the wine bottle and then stowed it in a pack, which was tossed over his uninjured shoulder. Then,
picking up his wineglass and plate of cheese, Keris started down the path.
Zarrah stood frozen, watching him as she came to terms with the situation. It was only as Keris rounded the bend that she jerked into motion, chasing after him. “Do you even know where you are Instinct demanded that she lash out. That she stab the knife of his own failings and twist it deep, but going?”
He took a mouthful of wine, then said, “All paths lead to a road.”
“That’s not even the slightest bit true.” Eyeing the sky, Zarrah took a branch in the path leading off Keris’s throat moved as though he were swallowing hard. “I told myself I had no regrets for turningto the right. “Did you even think this through? Rebel territory or not, this is still Valcotta, and you look like … like … you.”
“Your eloquence is inspiring,” he answered. “I look forward to the speeches you give from the throne.” Casting a sideways glance at her, he sighed. “Blond hair and blue eyes are hardly unique attributes and are most certainly not limited to Maridrinian nationals. As to my particularly striking good looks, that’s just a risk of recognition we’ll have to take.”
She cast her eyes skyward. “It’s the ego that will give you away.”
“You know how I feel about false modesty.” Finishing his wine, Keris tucked the glass into his pack. “Aren told me you have a plan. Care to share it?”
You were made to be used by others, not to lead. Zarrah bit down on the anxiety that rose with Bermin’s voice. You have an agreement, she reminded herself. This is a political alliance, nothing more. “Find the commander,” she answered.
She waited for him to point out that was a goal, not a plan, but Keris only pulled the hood of his back of his head, sending it flutteringcloak forward, obscuring his face. “Seems like a good place to start.”
me. That it gives me breath even as it steals the air from my lungs. Makes my heart beat even as it cuts Zarrah’s resolve faltered as he scrubbed tears from his cheeks. But before she could speak, he said, This was what she’d wanted from him, yet Zarrah felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach.
picking up his wineglass and plate of cheese, Keris started down the path.
Zarrah stood frozen, watching him as she came to terms with the situation. It was only as Keris rounded the bend that she jerked into motion, chasing after him. “Do you even know where you are going?”
He took a mouthful of wine, then said, “All paths lead to a road.”
“That’s not even the slightest bit true.” Eyeing the sky, Zarrah took a branch in the path leading off to the right. “Did you even think this through? Rebel territory or not, this is still Valcotta, and you look like … like … you.”
“Your eloquence is inspiring,” he answered. “I look forward to the speeches you give from the throne.” Casting a sideways glance at her, he sighed. “Blond hair and blue eyes are hardly unique attributes and are most certainly not limited to Maridrinian nationals. As to my particularly striking good looks, that’s just a risk of recognition we’ll have to take.”
She cast her eyes skyward. “It’s the ego that will give you away.”
“You know how I feel about false modesty.” Finishing his wine, Keris tucked the glass into his pack. “Aren told me you have a plan. Care to share it?”
You were made to be used by others, not to lead. Zarrah bit down on the anxiety that rose with Bermin’s voice. You have an agreement, she reminded herself. This is a political alliance, nothing more. “Find the commander,” she answered.
She waited for him to point out that was a goal, not a plan, but Keris only pulled the hood of his cloak forward, obscuring his face. “Seems like a good place to start.”
THE PATH HAD, indeed, led to a road, and the road to the city of Arakis.
What Keris profoundly hoped it led to next was a bed.
Exhaustion blurred his vision, his body ached, his wound itched, and every inch of him felt frozen solid by the cold. It was only force of will that kept him moving, every part of his mind consumed with taking another step.
Which left little energy for him to appreciate the size of the city.
For obvious reasons, he’d never visited Valcotta, his venture to the south side of Nerastis with Zarrah his one sojourn across the border. One night of drinking and reading stories about stars, only to be pursued by soldiers until they could hide on the rooftops. Later, she’d fallen asleep in his arms, and looking back, Keris knew that was when he’d handed her his heart. Days and nights when everything had felt possible and his shoulders light.
Now, venturing into the streets of another Valcottan city with her, Keris felt the weight of all that had happened since pressing him into the cobbles.
Possessed of a large harbor, Arakis was a center of trade, and merchants from every nation crowded the streets. For all he’d been blasé about being recognized, it was no small relief to see that he was far from the only Maridrinian in the city, his people differentiated from those from Harendell and Amarid by the cut of their coats and dresses, the style of the weapons they carried, and the marriage knives belted at the women’s waists. The Valcottans seemed unconcerned as they bartered with them at market stalls, showing none of the hate for his countrymen that their empress encouraged.