“Xenia has it. I want her to be able to get in touch with me in case… I want her to be able to get in touch with me.”
Tristan nodded. “Same time Friday?”
“See you then, Your Highness.” Cael’s voice dripped with wry amusement as he winked out in a rainbow flare.
Tristan mutteredassholeunder his breath, then tapped his own cuff and portaled out of the church ruins.
CHAPTER FORTY
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
Ione’s voice tiptoed over to where Tristan was seated beneath the clocktower in Lebaedia. He’d finally gotten a moment alone to eat after the raucous night of celebrating with his rebels.
“Says the female who spent the past week in an entirely different territory,” Tristan teased.
Ione’s face fell.
“I’m not avoiding you.” He dug into a grilled turkey leg, savoring the smoky flavor, then waved it at her. “Just trying to fit my meals in where I can. Everyone wants a piece of me.” He cringed as the words left his mouth. Especially when Ione cocked her head, confusion passing over her face. He sighed and patted the rough bricks. “Sit. Have you had a chance to eat?”
Ione sat gracefully, a respectful distance away, though her feathers brushed against his. “Can’t eat. I’m too nervous.”
“About what?”
“About what the Compendium might reveal tonight.”
As soon as Tristan had returned this evening, Trophonios had informed him that the translation was complete. That he was ready to reveal the end of the prophecy.
Tristan’s stomach had been tied up in knots since. It seemed Ione was feeling the same.
“Oh,” was all he said.
“Oh, indeed,” she said with a small, secretive smile.
“You already know what it says.”
“I do not.” Ione snatched a grilled thigh from his platter and sank her fangs into it. She raised a hand to her mouth, hiding her chewing. “But I’m scared of how you will react, regardless of what it says.”
“You’re scared ofmyreaction?” Tristan asked, incredulous. “Why?”
Ione huffed out a laugh, wiggling her fingers toward Tristan’s bottle of wine. He handed it to her, and she took a long pull, bolstering her courage.
She removed the bottle from her lips with a smack, then rested it on her knee, rolling it between her fingers. “I’m not so blinded by my faith that I can’t tell when a male has no interest in kissing me, Tristan.”
Her quiet, broken words stirred that guilt he couldn’t manage to smother.
“Ione, I?—”
“No, it’s okay. I’ve been telling myself these past few days that it doesn’t matter. That of course the kiss was awkward. We haven’t seen each other in centuries. Passion doesn’t rekindle that quickly, and rebuilding what we had will take time. Andeffort. On both our parts. The only thing I need to know before we hear that prophecy tonight is this.” She turned to face him, her indigo eyes gleaming in the bonfires scattered throughout the village. “I need to know that you will do what’s right for Ethyrios. No matter what.”
His stomach twisted, but he vowed, “I swear it.” With what he hoped wasn’t a noticeable hesitation.
If the prophecy confirmed that he was fated to Ione, that it was their union that would save this world, was he strong enough to give up Cassandra?
He felt a disorienting mix of fear and shame. Because his heart already knew the answer to that question.
Ione nodded, placated, then polished off her grilled turkey thigh and tossed the bones onto his platter. “Come then. They’re ready for us.”
His mind raced as they walked toward the leadership building. This meeting would be a turning point for the Teles Chrysos, illuminating the final shape of the puzzle they’d been piecing together for centuries.
