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“I…” She threw up her hands. “It was the first proof I had that I belonged, all right? That I was just as much a part of your court as any faerie… as any knight.”
Hawthorn blinked, as if he never couple have imagined a more ludicrous answer. “It meant that much to you?”
“Yes.” She pursed her lips. “Why did you request the thorns on it?”
“Because you’re prickly?” he suggested. “Or… or because I knew you’d like them. Because youdeservedthem.”
Juliana wasn’t quite sure she knew what to say in response to that. “I hate it when you’re thoughtful,” she settled on.
“I hate it when you risk your life for weaponry, but there we go.” He paused. “It always seems odd to me, the idea that you don’t think you belong in Acanthia. Sometimes I’ve thought you belonged there far more than me. If I ever made you feel otherwise—”
“It wasn’t you,” she said quickly, and then hesitated. “It wasn’tjustyou. It’s everything. It’s our short lives and limited power and the way we have to train twice as hard to be half as good.”
“You made it look easy,” Hawthorn continued, voice steady. “Everything you’ve ever done, you make it look easy.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. Because it wasn’t. Nothing in her life had ever been easy, and for years, she’d assumed that his lifewas,that he was a fool for squandering it, but somewhere in the past three years she’d come to understand that his life was just another kind of difficult.
“Do you really think you don’t belong?” she asked instead.
He shrugged, as if it mattered little. “Sometimes. I’ve been somewhat of a disappointment since I was born and I gave up rather young trying to be something else. Too much hard work. Easier not to try.”
“Must be hard though, if you still care.”
The brush of a smile passed his lips. “Must be.”
It was as close as she would get to an admission. “How does it feel?” she asked a moment later. “The curse actually coming to pass?”
“Terrifying and almost liberating,” he surrendered. “I’ve less to fear now. Apart from, you know, the obvious.”
“Me failing?”
“Youdying,you silly fool.“ He shook his head, waves of silken hair brushing across his brow. His eyes fell to the sword in Juliana’s grip. “Do you really hate me being thoughtful?”
“It… confuses me. Especially back then. Buying me the sword was the first nice thing I’d ever seen you do for anyone.” She sighed, loosing a long breath and leaning back against the rock. “I prefer hating you, you know. It’s easier to hate you.”
“I prefer hating you, too,” he admitted. “But I haven’t, you know. Not for a long time.”
I think I hate you more now than I have ever done, but for entirely different reasons.
She wanted to ask him how long, but did she really want the answer? If he told her it was only a few weeks, or a few months, she’d know it was because of the pendants. And if he said longer…
If he said longer…
No,she told herself, shoving it aside.There are different kinds of like. And you do like each other, at least a little. As much as you’re allowed to.
And no more. No more.
Hawthorn stared at her as if waiting for a question, one that she couldn’t ask.
“I don’t care how bored you are,” she said, thumping him on the arm, “you can’t follow me. It’s disconcerting.”
Something flickered in Hawthorn’s eyes, disappointment, maybe, or something else. “All right,” he said slowly.
She’d been expecting a fight, an argument, some light whining. “You can check in on me at midday,” she told him. “For an hour. No more.” She could be mindful of her actions for an hour or so, at least she hoped. “And after dark. You can come after dark.” She hated that time anyway, alone while the night grew around her, isolating her in the blackness. Even if she couldn’t see him until she fell asleep, knowing he was there might be a comfort.
“All right,” he said, eyes now lit. “And… when you’re sleeping? Can I stay when you’re sleeping?”
Juliana’s throat felt tight. “Yes,” she said. “You can stay when I’m sleeping.”
