Their footsteps echoed through the chapel as they walked toward the pews. Aeric braced a hand upon one of them as he stared at the stained-glass windows.
When he spoke, his voice was a deadly rasp. “Do you have any idea what would have happened to you if you had been caught by anyone else?” Anelize was silent for so long that he glowered over his shoulder as his eyes found hers. “What a Watchman would have done to you? How they would have relished at the opportunity to torment you with no one to hear you, save for the poor souls locked away in those cells who can barely help themselves. Do you?”
“As you can see, I am fine. I would have found a way to hold my own.”
It was the wrong thing to say.
“Fine.” Aeric took in a sharp breath, the leather of his gloves crackling as he tightened his grip upon the pew. “And would you have been fine if they’d realized your sister was in there? If they tortured her for the sake of discovering what you were doing here? Who else was working with you?”
Anger fueled her next words, unable to hold them back after all she’d seen in those cells. She stepped closer to him and said, “I followed Horia after overhearing him and Esna Santir discussing the tunnels and the people they’ve been taking to the book. What was I supposed to do?”
Aeric turned to face her, his eyes still cold. As if he’d forgotten to take the mask of the Captain of the Watchmen off.
“Not only did you follow the physician—who works closely with the king and the council—but you willingly wandered into those cells knowing the risks you were taking. Risks that could have very well cost us our lives. Do not delude yourself into thinking you would be strong enough to withstand what people like Esna Santir would do to you to get any information they could on the rebels. That you would not tell them of our plans.”
Anelize scoffed, running a hand through her hair. “You clearly think little of me if you would think I would betray you. Are you sure you’re not merely placing your frustrations onto me for being incapable of doing anything other than serving the king and hiding in the shadows after all these years?”
“What? Is that truly what you think of me? That I’m playing some fucking game?” Aeric sneered. It was the first time he’d ever spoken to her in such a manner, and while it lanced through her heart, she was too full of memories of all that she’d seen in the cell that she could not bring herself to care.
“You knew,” she started through gritted teeth, shoving a finger toward the door as if she could feel the tower looming over them, watching them. “You knew Enid was down there in that cursedplace. And you’ve done nothing to help her or the others.”
“And what would you have had me do?” Aeric snapped, raising his voice. The harsh sound carrying through the chapel and striking her like a whip. There was anger and agony twisted in his face, so much of it she could only watch him in stunned silence as he slapped a hand over his chest and said, “Do you think I would not shed the clothes off my bloody back to hand over to a single person down there if it meant providing them a shred of warmth, comfort? Do you think it is easy for me to bear witness to such desolation and death? That I do not mourn my people—my mother and sister—who have suffered at the hand of that monster.”
He took a step toward her, then one back, as if he knew to keep his distance. For her sake or for his, she did not know.
“Do you think I do not curse my own ineptitude for being unable to do more? I loathe myself for this role. That I must order men to arrest innocents and persecute them andstillremain impassive, when inside I burn with rage. So much I have been consumed by the very flames I have used to kill in cold blood. All for the sake of putting a stop to this.”
Before she could say anything, he walked toward the altar, staring up at the windows as if they may shatter and allow him an escape from the horrible life that he’d been forced into all these years.
A part of her shattered as well when she heard his voice break.
“Do you truly think me so heartless that it does not rip me to shreds that this has been my path?” A single tear rolled down his cheek, caught by the candlelight.
For all his pain and no matter how angry he was with her, she knew he would never truly harm her. And so, she slowly approached him.
He tensed when she placed her hand on his shoulder as she came to stand beside him. The moonlight shifted over the windows, painting them in soft hues. Diamond patterns of lapis blue and lilac caressed the side of his face, so broken and tormented, as he stared into her eyes. Reaching forward, she wiped away his tears, unable to hold back her own.
Before she could speak, he said, “I cannot lose you. Not you. Hate me, curse me, do whatever you want to me, but do not make me bear the weight of losing you, Anya. If anything were to happen to you...I do not think you truly understand what it is that I feel for you.”
And while he hadn’t touched her, hadn’t given himself the privilege to do such a thing, his eyes consumed her. Greedy and unrepenting.
His voice echoed like a phantom destined to haunt her when he murmured, “Time…what a cruel, twisted game it’s entangled us in. And what a mockery it’s made of me for wanting more of it.”
Reaching for his hands, she brought them up between them and he watched as she pulled his gloves off and placed them upon the altar.
“We have time now,” she whispered to him. That gesture alone, shredding away any traces of the Watchman, seemed to be his undoing. Snapping the final thread of restraint that he had tethered himself to. His hands cupped her face, his touch finally his once more as he pulled her close.
His breath caressed her lips, holding her a mere inch away as he watched her. His eyes flickered down to her lips then back up to her face, taking in every detail. The same way she had within the comfort of his room, their own carved out piece of the world. How she longed to return there once more.
“I’m sorry. For everything.” Anelize slid her hands up his chest as she closed the distance between them, finally placing a gentle lingering kiss. When she made to pull away, he tightened his hold and deepened it. Searing her with his lips, his tongue, his every breath. Prolonging the touch as if it would be their last.
And maybe it would be.
It wasn’t long before they wandered back to the castle where neither of them spoke as Aeric escorted her back to her room, only stopping once they reached the hall.
She sent Aeric one final glance over her shoulder as he remained stoic, nodding once as if granting her permission to leave his side. The wicked captain and the insignificant apothecary who would never be anything more than that.
And perhaps, they were all wicked and cruel. Perhaps, it was all they were deemed worthy of. Be it by saints or kings. They were, after all, products of their makers. Why should they bother striving for more? Why should she?
