Page 32 of Carousel

I feign surprise.

“Is he? Because that would make two of us.” I sit forwards. “Dezeeves. Did you know Cosmer’s awake?”

Dezeeves is wearing the headband again. Voices are leaking out from it.

“He probably can’t hear you. He doesn’t have great hearing at the best of times. Let alone when he’s got a radio band on.”

Just beyond my feet, Drake is still sleeping soundly. What was wrong with my stars, that the one male I actually wanted to speak to would still be knocked out, and I would be stuck with the other? The one I would have been quite content to never see again in my life?

Cosmer kills the silence. “You’re not really mad. Are you?”

I almost laugh. “I’m furious! You could have killed us⁠—”

“All right,” Cosmer interrupts. “I shouldn’t have gone for your new friend like that. But you could see he was trying to get a rise out of me. Took an instant dislike to me.”

“What? And you didn’t take an instant dislike to him?”

Cosmer huffs. “That’s different. He’s a prisoner of war. He’s⁠—”

“Rhavnan scum,” I guess.

“Exactly. He’s⁠—”

He stops. His eyes grow wide.

“Ara.” He curses under his breath. “Cosmos. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. You’re not⁠—”

“Sure I am. I’m half-Rhavnan. I look far more Rhavnan than Hevallan. I lived there most of my life. That would make me scum, too, wouldn’t it?”

“Ara—”

“In fact,” I continue, undeterred, “I’m probably the biggest Rhavnan scum there is, since I lived in the actual palace. I spent my days sitting on jewels and counting gold coins and keeping the glorious, otherworldly magic I supposedly have in my blood to myself, for my own means. I didn’t even wipe my own behind, did I? I must have had people to do that for me.”

“Ara,” he says again. “Stop it.”

“In fact, I didn’t even need the people, did I? I just clicked my jewelled, magical fingers, and my silk rags wiped me. I needed civilisation. I needed my country to be declared war on, so that it could eventually be bombed to bits, our wealth taken from us and the magic bled right out of us. So that all of Hevalla – nay, all of the world – would be better off⁠—”

“Ara!”

I look down. He’s grasped my hand, which I’ve been unknowingly flailing about.

His face is so close.

I can see every freckle on his pale skin. The gilded flecks in his brown irises.

His eyes are flickering over mine. It feels hotter in here than it’s been this whole time. There’s an ache low in me I can’t define. Clenching up, I slowly slip my hand out of his, and wish he would just disappear again.

To distract myself from his existence, I spend a long minute just looking at the world outside. Other ships are also approaching the huge carousel. Its proper name comes to me – a hive ship. We do all look like bees entering a hive, and it’s clear from the movements of those in front of us that there’s a silent dance happening between us as we prepare to board.

“Ara,” Cosmer says softly. “I really am sorry.”

I feel my heart beat, beat, beat, hard enough to hurt me.

Eventually, I say, calmer, “I’ve lived in Hevalla for five years. I’ve heard it all before. And the worst part is, you know I have. You were my friend. You fought off the Brodie boys for me when they attacked me that time. How you could now call someone Rhavnan scum in front of me⁠—”

“I know,” he mutters. “I can’t believe it either.”

I try to breathe. Ease the pain in my chest.