He would stay for as long as she needed.
CHAPTER 39
ELENA
The land is in your blood,
Your blood is in the land.
God above, earth below,
And your life in between.
—from the ancient scrolls of the first priests of the Fire Order
Elena woke and did not recognize the room she was in. Her eyes were raw and her body ached. Panic, quick and sharp, razored down her throat, and she began to rise when she felt an arm warm around her waist.
Yassen lay curled beside her, fast asleep.
At this, she sighed in relief. Smiled.Never pegged him as a drooler.Carefully, Elena began to pull away when she hesitated.
He had come in during the night, when she had felt so debilitatingly crushed. He had not said a word, but his presence alone had brought her comfort, like a fire in a cold, dark room. Slowly, Elena lay back.
Just for another minute, she thought. She listened to the sound of his breathing, found herself matching her own breath to his to calm her racing heart.
Just another minute.
This time, it was Yassen who woke her up.
“Mmm,” she murmured.
She opened her eyes to see him standing over her, holding a tray of tea.
“Morning,” he said. He smiled as she wiped her lips. “You were drooling on your pillow.”
“No, you were—” she began and stopped.I must have fallen asleep again.Had Yassen then woken up to find her curled up so close to him?Oh, Mother’s Gold.She felt herself blush, turned away. “J-just leave it here.”
“I found these in the cupboard,” he said, pointing to the folded clothes on the edge of the bed. “My mother’s. I think they might be too short for you but—”
“It’ll do,” she said, interrupting him. She felt her puffy face, felt the dried spit on the corner of her mouth as Yassen watched, amused.Holy Bird Above, I must look like a mess.“I’ll change.”
“Maybe a bath first,” Yassen said. “I’ve already run it for you.”
“Are you saying I stink?”
“You said that, not me.” He grinned, and despite herself, Elena returned it.
When he left, Elena rose and discarded her old clothes. The water was a tad cold, but she didn’t mind. She rubbed her skin clean with an old bar of soap, trying her best to get rid of the dirt and knots in her hair. Afterward, she picked up the new clothes, and as she shook them out, she caught a scent, strikingly familiar. She sniffed the kurta. It smelled of sandalwood—of the desert. She carefully pulled on the kurta and trousers, and though they were too short, Elena felt a strange comfort.
Before the small vanity mirror, she began to dry her hair, the curls limp and frizzed in her hand. She remembered how Ferma would sometimes oil her hair, braid it herself. And that memory, so sudden, so quick, froze Elena. She felt that wave of grief, black and vicious, threatening to wash and drown her like it had last night.
With trembling hands, Elena pushed back her hair.Stop it, she told herself.She wouldn’t want you grieving like this.The room suddenly felt too large, too empty. Elena got up quickly, heart hammering. Yassen, she needed Yassen.
She found him in the kitchen, studying the map.
“Do you know which tunnel we’ll take?” she said, keeping the quiver from her voice.
“Yes,” he said and froze when he saw her.
