Page 44 of Storm of Ink and Blood

“How dare she?” Zarya spat, the words bursting out of her. “How dare she speak to me like that? I was trying to help. I warned them. I said I would do my best!”

“She’s worried about Farida,” he said. “But you’re right; you didn’t deserve any of that.”

Zarya stopped and faced him, her gaze lingering in the direction they’d just come. The surging crowds enveloped them in the pulse and noise of the city.

“The things she said to me⁠—”

Tears built in her eyes, and Yasen shook his head as he blew out a breath. “I don’t think she really meant any of it.”

“Don’t you? Or were those things she’s been thinking all along and now felt free to say?”

Yasen closed his eyes and opened them. “I’m not sure.”

“I fucked up,” Zarya said. “I let my magic slip, but…”

“I know that, Zee. Give her some time to calm down.”

“What if Farida doesn’t wake up, Yas? Then what? I’m sure this is what I’m supposed to be doing, but it seems like I’m getting everything wrong.”

He tipped his head and considered her. “What if that’s not what those words meant?”

“What else could they mean?” she asked. “Who else is ‘caged by the stars’?”

He pulled a face. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It does seem pretty clear.”

She turned and kept walking while he followed at her side.

“Did they say anything after I left?”

He shrugged. “Not much. I think you shocked them into silence.”

Zarya huffed. “I bet that was a first for Rania.”

“Sorry, Zee,” he said. “That was hard to listen to.”

“Thanks for trying to stick up for me.”

“Hey, what are second-best friends for?”

Zarya found herself caving to a reluctant smile.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

“Let’s train,” she answered. “It’s been too long, and I need to burn off some energy.”

With a nod, he took her hand, and they shoved through the afternoon rush, finding themselves on the rooftop of their apartment building. They’d discovered early on that no one ever came up here, and it was the perfect place to spar. With the sun beating down, they fought with their blades clashing. Zarya wasn’t in the mood to talk, so she lost herself in the sway and the cadence of the fight.

When they finally stopped, the sun was setting, and they were both covered in sweat.

“Thank you,” she said, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. “I needed that.”

“You really did,” Yasen said. “Woo, you are rusty.”

She snorted. “Shut up.”

He grinned, and they sank down against the perimeter wall, their knees up and their shoulders pressed together.

“Feeling any better?” he asked.