Page 56 of Hearts Lost

I shrug. There was a time when the truth behind that comment would have bothered me. Hells, there was a time when a lot of things would have bothered me. Our boots thud hollowly on the crushed stone path through my parents’ barrier garden.

“So, are you going to ask what I’m doing here?” Orryen says as we reach the edge of the garden and the beginning of the Crystal City’s winding streets.

“Right,” I reply, running a hand through my hair. It could probably use a wash. The rest of me could probably also use a wash. “You need something?”

Orryen makes a sound like a twig snapping in his mouth, and I look over to see he’s shaking his head. Something inside me pinches tight in warning; is he going to make me sit through another discussion about how I’m feeling? That vision of me dying on the floor of my parents’ estate rises again in my mind, and I wonder if I could just will my heart to stop pumping right here, in the circuitous streets of the Crystal City’s nobles' quarters.

Orryen sighs, then shakes his head like he’s disappointed in me. Fair enough. I’m also disappointed in me.

“Two things,” Orryen says.

He stops walking and turns around to face me. That warning ping in my gut goes off again. I clench my jaw.

“First, would you be the best man at my wedding?” Orryen asks.

I blink. Something deep inside my cold, hollow chest throbs in pain. A wedding. I would like to stay the fuck away from weddings for the rest of my life, thank you very much.

“Of course,” I answer.

Because fuck my heart. Orryen is my best friend, my only friend, and I’ll do whatever he asks. Hells, it’s not like he’s asking me to go back to the void.

And the thought of the void does nothing to ease the tight, pinching throb inside my chest. Orryen clears his throat, and I realize I’m staring at my own boots with a scowl.

“And, second,” Orryen says. There’s something almost apologetic in his tone. “Could you wake her up?”

Pain sears through me like a flame climbing dry wood. There’s something almost exquisite about the way my heart clenches, shatters, and then falls to the street. I didn’t know I was still capable of that much agony.

I don’t trust myself to speak, so I just nod, then turn and continue walking toward the palace. The home I made for myself. Where Ithronel sleeps in one of the guest quarters, wrapped in my spell. Orryen’s boots click on the stone behind me as he catches up to me.

“Aloserin,” he says. “One more thing.”

I glance at him. I don’t stop walking.

“Would you be there when she wakes up?” Orryen asks.

My step falters. I catch myself, then keep walking. Running would be better. Perhaps I’ll go for a run later tonight, tracing the winding routes that echo the Crystal City’s barrier gardens under the dim nighttime flicker of the glowsoft orbs.

“No,” I finally say, with a shiver. “Absolutely not.”

“We have to question her, and you being there would probably make our job easier,” Orryen says. “Galan hopes we can convince her to help us. And she, uh, seemed to trust you.”

My lips curl into a smile that feels as sharp as the edge of my dagger.

“Then she’s a fool,” I say.