I squeeze my eyes shut, even though I can barely see anything in the dark of the room anyways.
“There was one,” I tell him hoarsely. “She told me her name. I can’t even remember it. It was… the day you attacked. She woke too soon, and I found her in the ship’s orlop deck, with… she was…”
I don’t continue. The silence yawns between us. My mind is back beneath the ship, seeing the blood; the terrified look in her eyes. I shudder and draw a ragged breath. It’s the first time I’ve admitted this to anyone. But who could he possibly tell that would care?
Roiven sits at the foot of the bed. The mattress shifts beneath his weight.
Slowly, the witch reaches out and rests a hand on my knee, through the blanket. The touch drags me back to the present. I should tell him to get his hand off me immediately, but I don’t.
It isn't the first time he’s comforted me, and I don't like how natural it feels. Or how well it seems to work. But right now, I need it.
“She had a fishscaler,” I whisper. “She was… cutting the marks off her skin.”
“Gods,” Roiven whispers.
“The ship’s alarm rang. You attacked, and…” I grip my fists into the sheets. “Is there any way she could have survived?”
“She was below deck?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t go after anybody who jumped overboard, but… the Hellion sank. I don’t think it’s possible.”
He draws his hand back off my knee. I nod, but I don’t answer.
“I’m sorry,” he adds a moment later.
“It’s my fault. I woke her up just so she could die in pain, alone and scared.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“Still. Because of me…”
“She died free,” he says. “Isn’t that better? I’d rather have my own mind.”
“Easy to say when you aren’t terrified and facing down death.”
“Of course I’m terrified,” Roiven whispers. “Do you know how many people I’ve lost to those ships? And now your Empire is planning something that could finally end this?”
“Still.”
“She didn’t survive,” he says flatly. “But you gave her the chance to fight, to escape. Totry. So long as you’re awake you can keep fighting. You gave her back to herself, Cai. I’m sorry you had a nightmare about her, but…”
Why is he being nice to me?
“The nightmare was about you,” I tell him. “You were her. I mean, not her, but—you had the fishscaler, and you were cutting… that’s why I asked if I could touch…”
Roiven is silent for a long moment.
“Let go of your guilt, Cai. You freed her. I killed her. There’s nothing either of us can do to change it now.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?” I ask.
“You could start with getting some sleep,” he offers. “If you want to atone for the Enchanted, you do it in the present, not by letting the past consume you.” He stands up off the bed and I feel the whole mattress shift.
“You won’t do it, will you? Cut the marks out?” I whisper.
“Of course not, knight. That’s what I have you for,” Roiven tells me. “Sleep.” He leaves the room, shutting the door all the way behind him.
