“Out on the wall.” Vana nuzzles closer, not wanting to look up. He just wants to inhale Daromir for the rest of his life. “I couldn’t find you through the bloodbond, so I used the featherglass. Stanza found you.”
Stanza chirps in response to her name, then starts knocking everything on Vana’s bedside table to the floor. It’s a terrible habit, but Vana doesn’t have the heart to redirect her.
“I’ll owe her a barrel of rabbits, then,” Daromir says. “Do rabbits come in barrels?”
“I don’t fucking know.” Vana laughs wetly. “Fuck, Daro, are you really okay?”
Daromir strokes the back of Vana’s neck. “I am now, thanks to you.”
Vana’s eyes sting, and his fingers tighten in Daromir’s shirt. He doesn’t deserve any gratitude. “I’m sorry.”
Daromir laughs against him. “For saving my life?”
Vana forces himself half a step back. Forces himself to look into Daromir’s eyes, dark, lit only by the setting sun outside. Vana needs to apologize again, a thousand times over. But this is more important to say first:
“I’m not marrying Sei Mallory.”
Daromir’s breath catches. “Can you repeat that? Because it sounded like you said you were going to defy Imrik’s very important treaty.”
“I’m not marrying him.” Now that Vana has started, the words tumble out. “Whether or not you still want me after all this, I can’t do it. You were right. You’ve always been right. I can betray every last moral I have, but I can’t let go of you.”
The room floods with gold that makes Daromir’s eyes look like green fire. He’s so gorgeous it hurts, and he’s scarily silent as Vana draws towards him again.
Vana touches Daromir’s jaw, wishing he could take the tension into himself instead. “I took you for granted. I’m so sorry.”
Daromir takes Vana’s hand with a smile. “In your defense, Iwantyou to take me for granted. I want you to know I’m here, no matter what.”
Vana doesn’t want Daromir to defend his actions. He wants to self-flagellate for longer, wallowing in his regret. But there’s a dead man lying on their bedroom floor, and guards shouting downstairs. Dire magic isn’t subtle.
And as much as Vana wants to grovel, Daromir would never allow it. So, it’s for Daromir’s sake as much as his own that Vana says, “I’m sorry for thinking I could survive marrying anyone else. Can you forgive me?”
Daromir’s smile widens. “I think I can. But I have one condition.”
“Anything,” Vana says without hesitation.
The approaching voices are getting louder. Zuzana’s swearing is clearly distinguishable, and Indra must be with her. Daromir glances at the door, and a sheet of water flies from the floor. It freezes as it travels, coalescing into a solid, translucent wall blocking off the bedroom door. Parts of the ice are smeared black with charred flesh.
Daromir focuses on Vana again, like nothing else exists. “You have to marry me instead, so the entire world knows you’re mine.”
Vana’s lips part, stunned. He never even dreamed of this. Now, he’ll dream of nothing else. An uncontrollable smile spreads across his face. “I already said anything. Would you really marry me? Can we do it tonight?”
Grinning back, Daromir tucks a strand of Vana’s hair behind his ear. “Someday soon, I’m going to marry you so hard neither of us will be able to walk for a week. Unfortunately, right now we have a mess to clean up.”
Right. Vana would much prefer to fantasize about marrying Daromir. Who would be claim, and who would be claimant? Vana can’t deny the appeal of shedding the Dire name and becoming Vana Azri. But first…
“Who was he, anyway?” Vana asks. The charred corpse is unrecognizably deformed.
“That was Mori,” Daromir says. “Except he was actually a Kennel Hound named Mirror.”
“Oh. Shit.”
“Yeah. It’s good you got here when you did—he was a problem.” Daromir crouches next to the corpse. With a wince, he starts searching through Mori’s soaked, scorched clothing. “Believe it or not, Kazia warned me that Petir hired a Hound. And while we were fighting, Mirror said I was his target. Not you.”
“Shit,” Vana repeats. That fits the facts before him but doesn’t yet explain anything. Vana needs more information.
New plans are already piecing together in Vana’s mind. It’s the strangest thing, but Vana finds himself excited. After so long, he finally has a goal hewantsto strive for.
Movement blurs on the other side of the icy door, and someone pounds on the wall. “Your Highness, what the fuck is going on?” Indra shouts, muffled through the ice.
