Page 19 of Storm of Ink and Blood

“What?”

“Your ability to see the world with rose-colored glasses. Even with plenty of evidence to the contrary, I think you really believe the world is a good place.”

“That makes me naive,” Zarya said with a weary sigh. “So much of my life was shaped by books that always had a happy ending, so I guess I thought life worked that way, too. Even when I was at my most miserable, I never gave up on the idea that a happily ever after was waiting for me.”

She held up the book sitting in her lap, and Apsara shook her head. “It doesn’t make you naive. It’s a wonderful thing to believe. I wish more people felt that way.”

Zarya dropped the book again and smiled. “Thanks. I guess.”

“And no, Suvanna and I haven’t seen each other since we left Dharati. She decided we both had to come to Gi’ana when Row shared what you were doing.” Apsara rolled her shoulders back. “Maybe I’m the naive one. Every time I think things will be different, I end up having my heart broken again.”

“This time, too?”

She shrugged and sipped her drink. “Not yet, but it’s always the same. Suvanna is happy to carry on with our physical relationship, but that’s all she wants or needs. Or so she says.”

“You don’t believe that?” Zarya asked.

“It’s hard not to wonder sometimes if that’s really all it is or if it’s just me she doesn’t need those things from.”

Zarya’s heart twisted at the vulnerable look on Apsara’s face.

“Which definitely makes me a fool,” she said.

“No,” Zarya said. “It’s not foolish to hope that someone you admire and have feelings for might return them. It’s never foolish to want the best for yourself and your life.”

“See?” Apsara said. “There you go, making everything look nice again.”

Zarya snorted. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d lived with me at the cottage. I was a giant pain in the ass.”

Apsara laughed, too. “That I do believe.”

Zarya picked up a pillow and playfully swatted Apsara as they both continued chuckling.

“Here,” Zarya said, holding out her book. “Try some light reading to help make you a believer, too.”

Apsara eyed the novel, which depicted an embracing couple with their clothes nearly falling off while the wind tossed their hair.

“Trust me,” Zarya said. “You’ll never be the same.”

Apsara took it and flipped through the pages.

“Okay, I’m game.” Her mouth stretched into a yawn. “But I’m exhausted, and I only came out here because I needed some water, and you looked a bit lonely. You okay if I go back to bed?”

“Of course,” Zarya said. “Have a good sleep. In the morning, we’ll take you to meet Farida.”

After Apsara went back inside, Zarya considered returning to her bed as well, but the evening was the perfect temperature, and her breath came easier when she sat out here.

The mountains stretched to one side, overlooking the rolling city of Ishaan, while miles of forest spread in the other direction. This view always felt like a reminder of how far she’d come in her life. From her quiet corner of the sea to this queendom on the very opposite end of the continent, she was still having trouble reconciling that after everything, she’d made it here.

She tugged the blanket off a nearby chair and wrapped it around her shoulders, lying down on the divan before she finally drifted off into a troubled sleep.

Rabin padded across his darkened bedroom towards the large windows that overlooked Andhera’s snowy landscape. In his hand, he held the book he’d been studying for weeks. Abishek had plucked it from the recesses of his vast collection. Years ago, when paramadhar had been more common, new pairings were given a handbook outlining the role’s various conditions, limits, and duties.

Rabin had read it cover to cover, learning the secrets of these ancient magical servants. The more he read, the surer he was that he belonged to Zarya. There was so much he could do. Help control her magic. Heal her. He’d never forget the moment he found her lying in the mud on the outskirts of Dharati and coaxed her back to life. Once they forged the connection between them, known as the Bandhan, he could save her from death itself. Once they both wore matching tattoos applied by a mystic, the Bandhan would be complete, and it would bind his life to hers.

If she died, then so would he.

But he’d already accepted this fate months ago. If he were being honest, maybe part of him had accepted it from the first moment he’d seen her. Who was he to refuse if the gods had seen fit to bestow him with this gift? There was no doubt there was something important about Zarya, and Rabin wanted to be a part of the future that awaited them both.