His hair was wet, and his monk’s robes flowed loosely on his thin form. He raked a hand through his hair, slicking it back. The effect made him look impossibly young. “I promised to help with the horses. So I did.”
I wanted to tell him what I’d learned about my scissors. But seeing how awkward he was there, by the door, I bit my lip. “Are you tired? You usually sleep as soon as you turn back.”
“I’m fine.”
The ensuing silence between us was heavy. Edan stayed at the door, and he gestured at the dress I was working on. It lay on the other side of my bed.
“It’s beautiful,” he said. “Lady Sarnai would be a fool not to appreciate it.”
I could hear the monks chanting. I didn’t understand the words, but they were rhythmic and steady, blurring together into a deep hypnotic drone.
“Did you have to chant every day?” I murmured. “When you lived in a monastery?”
“Yes,” Edan said. His voice lifted with cautious hope. “Every day.”
“I could get used to a monk’s life,” I said. “It’s not so different from a tailor’s. Sewing all day, chanting all day—I used to count my stitches out loud when I was a girl.”
“You’d hate it.” Edan leaned against the frame of the door. “You don’t belong here, chained to a monastery. You should see the world.”
My breath caught in my throat. I walked to him. “Edan…”
“I know you’re angry at me,” he said. “And you have a right to be. But I love you, Maia.”
I swallowed. How unfair it was, that our time together was so short. That soon I would never see him again.
“I love you, too,” I whispered, touching his cheek. It hurt to speak any more loudly—my voice was hoarse with emotion. “And I’ll have you. The sun and moon only see each other one day out of the entire year. Even if it’s an hour or a day—I’d rather be with you for that time than not at all.”
A light brightened Edan’s face. He didn’t smile, yet somehow he looked happier than in all the months I’d known him. “May I kiss you?” he whispered.
“You may.”
He touched my chin, tilting it up, but I was already on my toes. My mouth drifted forward, my eyes half closed.
Edan laughed softly. “Eager, aren’t we? Then you shouldn’t have denied me so long.”
Slowly, he traced his fingers down my neck to my collarbone. His touch made me shiver, and my skin tingled as he traced back up my neck and around my lips. Then, when I was about to protest that he was tormenting me, he lifted me up.
I crushed my mouth against his, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips. His kisses moved to my cheeks, my neck, my breasts, back to my lips. Passionate, then tender. Then passionate again, as if we couldn’t make up our minds. As if we knew our lips would be bruised tomorrow, but we would laugh about it.
It was so easy to forget—and I felt myself slipping into the illusion that everything was fine.
I pushed his hair out of his eyes and cupped his chin. “Let me come to Lake Paduan with you.”
Edan was still catching his breath.
“There has to be a way to defeat Bandur,” I said slowly. “That amulet he wears—I took it from him when I was on the Thief’s Tower, and that seemed to weaken him. Maybe if we can destroy it, you’ll be free of him.”
“A demon’s amulet is already broken,” Edan said. He pressed my back against the wall. “Destroying it won’t kill Bandur, nor will it weaken him.”
“But I saw—”
Edan put two fingers to my lips. “Bandur is cunning,” he said. “He wanted to trick you into thinking he had a weakness so you would let down your guard—then he could mark you.”
I fell silent, knowing that he was right. “I’m still coming with you. My mind is made up.”
Edan sighed. “Maia, you know the isles abound with ghosts and demons. Even if you were safe from them, I won’t be the same.”
“Do you think I care?”
