Oskaren took a breath, then nodded. She gave a small huff, then turned onto her back, pulling Thia’s hands with her. “Then maybe tonight we can just talk.”
“Of course,” Thia agreed. She waited until Oskaren faced her again and offered a smile so the girl would know she was genuine. Then she rolled on her back too but scooted in close so their shoulders pressed together. “I’ve never kissed anyone,” she admitted, cheeks pink. Then felt the need to explain, so Oskaren wouldn’t think she was inept, “But I googled it so I’d be prepared. Researched,” she added, at Oskaren’s apparent confusion.
The girl gaped at her. Then threw back her head and laughed.
“What?” Thia asked, delighted and bemused.
“Youresearchedit?”
“That’s how I learn everything,” Thia protested, flustered.
Oskaren groaned good-naturedly, then rolled over to gather her close, one arm going around the back of her neck, a leg draped over her thighs. “Gods.Quite the little scholar, aren’t you?”
Thia grinned into her neck, inhaling the floral scent of her freshly washed hair. Heat pooled in her core as she threaded her own leg between Oskaren’s. “Yeah, well. How do you learn then?”
“All I can tell you is that I didn’t learn swordplay from a book,” Oskaren said, running her hand through Thia’s hair. “Other activities are much the same.”
“Fair enough,” Thia said, trying not to think too hard about what it would mean to learn to be good atother activitieswith Oskaren.
They lapsed into silence again, contented this time, as their hands learned the bones of each other’s spines. When Oskaren’s began to drag, Thia pulled back to see she’d shut her eyes.
“I should go to my tent,” she said, regretfully.
“Don’t,” Oskaren objected. Her tone was soft, drowsy. “Stay.”
“Okay,” Thia agreed, needing very little convincing. She settled back into the crook of Oskaren’s neck, her arm splayed over the girl’s ribs. “Sweet dreams.” Oskaren’s slow breaths told Thia she was already peacefully—Thia marveled that the other girl could be so—asleep.
THIRTY-NINE
CALLISTA STARED ATTHIA,HER SILVER EYES SHARP. BENEATH THEM, Oskaren lay sleeping, her leg freshly healed of witch’s storm. “How marvelous to have found love in such perilous times.”
Thia blinked. “Love?”
Callista’s voice was low. “Do you not love her?”
She frowned. “Oskaren? Of course not. I barely know her. But her mother was kind to me. I promised to watch out for her.”
“Sorscha loves her still?” The sorceress’s expression was hungry as she watched the sleeping girl below.
“Do you know her?”
Callista didn’t seem to hear her. “And does she love her mother?”
Thia fingered the hem of her shirt. “You’ve heard…. You know she’s cursed, right?”
Callista’s gaze jumped to Thia’s. “Of course. Forgive me.”
Thia studied her, trying to understand the strange look on the woman’s face that was somehow both achingly sad and relieved. And the hunger that had roosted there, only moments before.
Thia awoke nestled in the crook of Oskaren’s arm, her head on the girl’s chest. Callista’s strange look pressed into the back of her eyelids, like she was a light Thia had been staring at too long. The same memory had played over and over throughout the night, the Mirror’s message, she supposed. Though she didn’t know why it had chosen that scene, when she already knew the answer to the sorceress’s question might have changed.
Do you not love her?
I could.
Thia shifted to examine the girl’s sleeping face. She was clearly still in the throes of the Mirror, and by her expression, her vision was not a pleasant one. Her eyes darted furiously under her lids, lovely face twisted in pain.
Thia wondered if she should rouse her.
