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“Alwesh.”
She nodded, her gaze growing thoughtful. “It reminds me of really old German,” she said, flipping a page of the primer. “The letters, at least.”
“Alwesh is a language we have had since the time before the Great Exodus,” I explained, settling into the armchair across from her. “It’s the most common, though there are regional differences, especially in the Far Lands. It will be the most useful in a daily sense, though Nyndrec is the language of the court.”
She nodded, still introspective. “Like English in Europe,” she said, quiet like her first comment. “Just call me Tsarina Alexandra.”
Then she grabbed the mug and took a long drink, the column of her throat moving with her swallow. The sight had heat racing down my spine. Wisteria swirled around me before I could hold back a visceral reaction. I forced my gaze away.
Space. She needed space.
After this morning, I understood intimately why, and I would force my body into brutal submission to give her as much as I possibly could.
“Tsarina?” My voice was rougher than I’d like.
Her cheeks flushed, and she set the mug back down with a bit more force.
“A term for a princess. She wrote letters to the man she’d eventually marry in English even though it wasn’t either of their native languages.” She flipped the primer back to the page I’d selected and then flicked her gaze back to me. “Ready.”
I blew out another breath and leaned forward, slowly explaining the letters and symbols used in the written version of Alwesh. Her brow furrowed slightly as she listened, and she pulled her lip between her teeth, biting slightly whenever she was especially focused. After a bit, I grabbed a pen and small notebook I hadn’t used in at least a decade, opening it to a blank page so she could practice some of the words herself.
She settled into the work with little fanfare and a tenacity that had a measure of pride filling me. It was nearly an hour later that she set the pen down with a sigh and stretched her neck. She pulled the blanket from the back of the armchair and draped it over her legs, fussing with it for a few minutes, like it was important it sat a specific way.
Nesting. It was the first I’d seen her do that, though the travel wasn’t really conducive to such displays.
“What did the letter say about Sloane?” Her voice cut through the quiet room. “The one the Votarist gave you yesterday?”
“It gave a few different options for keeping you two in contact. I selected the one I thought would work best and sent the response with Phoebe this morning.”
Her lips thinned.
“And what is that?”
“A pair of enchanted mirrors,” I explained easily enough. “They work similarly to the messaging stones, though it allows you to see whatever is within view of the mirror as well.”
Surprise lit her eyes, and her mouth dropped open.
“Phones. You mean phones.”
Like yesterday, there wasn’t any kind of context for the word. I tilted my head. “That word doesn’t translate.”
“Never mind,” she whispered quickly. Then, will a twist of her lips, she said, “There’s an irony in here somewhere about a mirror being what caused us to be here at all and a mirror being what keeps us together.”
This time I smiled, just a bit. “There is indeed.”
Then I stood. She was clearly in need of a break. Her body sagged with exhaustion, a weariness in her face that hadn’t been there when we started. “Phoebe will be back in a few days with the mirror. She will be able to explain how it works. Each is slightly different depending on the mage who creates it.”
“Is there something happening?” Her brows furrowed, and she sat up straighter in the chair.
I shook my head, but she only frowned more, her body tightening with confusion.
“You’re tired. We’ll work again on this tomorrow.” I kept my tone soft to keep her from being offended. She pursed her lips as she took in the primer and her notes.
“Is there a book about the gods, then? Or the kingdoms, maybe? Something that I might be able to decode a bit?” She gestured to the work she’d already done. “I could really use a reference sheet of some kind.”
“All right,” I agreed easily.
She held up the notebook. “Could I use the rest of this?”
