“I will never be free of it, will I?” I said, without turning.
“Do you wish to be? You once said that Chaos is a part of you.”
My laughter held a bitter edge. “You mean the terrible, monstrous part of me.”
Undeterred, she continued, “You taught me that beauty can be found in Chaos. It might be different from the beauty of Order, but it is beauty all the same. I have not forgotten.”
I had sworn to win her back, to make her mine again, my fierce, beautiful queen. Yet as the sun’s last rays gifted her their golden kiss, her hair and eyes ablaze, her face filled with a gentleness I had not dared to dream of witnessing again… In that moment, I struggled with the mad impulse to warn her. To tell her to keep her distance, to erase me from her memory once and for all, because we both knew I would only disappoint her again.
But I was a selfish bastard, so I stayed silent. I needed her too much, even if it was only this fleeting touch of her radiant light upon me.
She said I had revealed beauty within Chaos to her. But was there also beauty to be found in ashes?
“Did you mean it?” she asked softly, her eyes never leaving myface. “When you said you would try to find a better way to deal with the powers of Chaos?”
The expression on her face, the hope I could see burning within her, was too much. I turned toward the hills once more, the peaceful landscape offering no solace.
“If you want me to leave, I will.” The offer burst from my lips before I could stop it.
She did not answer for a very long time. My heart beat hard and fast in my chest as I waited for her response, unsure what I wanted it to be. Then her hand brushed against mine, the touch so faint it could have been nothing more than my imagination.
“I don’t want you to leave,” she murmured.
When I gathered enough courage to look at her once more, her silver eyes were bright with unshed tears. Yet she gave me a smile, as fragile as it was beautiful.
“Come inside,” she said. “Dolores sent you some cake.”
CHAPTER
29
Rada
Afew white feathers were all that remained of Bella. Or Tilda. I could never tell those two apart.
Ignoring the agitated cackling of the hens, I followed the feather trail to the back of the henhouse. My eyes narrowed at the shallow hole where wood met packed earth, deep gouges from sharp claws revealing my missing chicken’s fate. So that was where the cursed fox got in. But how, by the deepest pit of the Abyss, did it pass the barrier of thorny bushes?
Well, it didn’t matter. I was tired of trying to outfox the cunning little predator. Time to settle this once and for all.
I gave the surviving white chicken, Tilda—I always preferred that name, and it was not as if she would complain—a resolute nod. “Don’t worry. I will handle this. You will be safe soon.”
Tilda fluttered her wings and clucked. From the way she tilted her little feathered head, she wasn’t convinced. A sigh escaped me. I could not blame her. After all, I was not proving competent at protecting anyone or anything. Least of all my heart.
After cleaning up the feathers and closing the hole with a wooden plank, I collected a few eggs for breakfast. I wondered if Noctis was awake. He had still been asleep on his pallet when I had silently crossed the main room, where he was sleeping after I had given in to his demand that I move back into my bedroom.
He had been utterly exhausted yesterday evening, barely saying a word during our meal, just watching me with eyes full of a haunting vulnerability. Tense. Waiting. As if part of him expected me to throw him out at any moment after his slip-up with the Chaosdagger, after he had revealed his weaknesses to me. A deep wariness had softened the usual intensity of his presence, sparking an oddly protective urge inside me in answer.
So, I had let him rest a little longer. That was definitely the only reason I had sneaked out, careful not to disturb him. Not because of how he had looked while caught in the embrace of sleep. All disheveled dark hair and relaxed, achingly handsome face, one arm thrown over the pillow above his head, full lips slightly parted. At peace.
I could have woken him with a soft kiss, his eyes fluttering open with a hazy expression, only to heat with desire as he pulled me on top of him…
My vivid fantasy had driven me outside, the cool morning air a welcome balm on my burning cheeks. I felt disturbingly like a fortress under siege. Noctis was one of the most brilliant tacticians in Aron-Lyr, and I feared this time it was not some poor, beleaguered city that had to bear the brunt of his sharp mind, but my own flimsy defenses.
I had put the Chaosdagger back into its hiding place, all too aware it might already be too late—that using it might have revealed our exact location to the Chiasma. Yet I hadn’t mentioned a word of what I had discovered in the village to Noctis. I didn’t suspect that he was secretly plotting with his old servants; at least that fear hadbeen put to rest by the way I had found him upon my return—desperately holding on to the magic, nearly overwhelmed by his turbulent emotions.
It reminded me of the first time he had fully used the power of the Adept of Chaos. It had been to save Lyrheim, to save me. But like yesterday, there had also been a darker reason. He craved the power, the freedom he thought it would bring him.“I will never be powerless again,”he had said to me so long ago, a fervent light in his eyes.
Yet I had made him powerless. I had taken his magic away from him with my betrayal. My hands clenched around the handle of the egg basket.
