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“Thanks,” I say, returning the empty vial to Arluin.
He places it beneath the crystalline lamp, and the vibrant purple light makes the gold swirls glitter. I lie back on his chest as he picks up his book and continues to read.
The burgundy leather cover is embossed with ornamental flourishes and is entitled ‘The Arcane Art of Alchemy.’I suppose he’s reading it as part of his research project. The Arcanium is always trying to improve Nolderan’s potions, particularly ones with undesirable side effects such as Ice Honey.
We lie there in a peaceful silence for several minutes. Then a terrible thought occurs to me.
“What day is it today?”
“Wednesday,” he says, not glancing away from his book.
“What time?” I ask, bolting upright. The scarlet sheets fall from my shoulders, leaving my back vulnerable to the morning breeze.
He points to the grandfather clock ticking away in the far corner of the room. “One o’clock.”
“My morning classes!” I swear under my breath. My tutors will report my absence, and then my father will know I’ve been skipping classes again.
Arluin chuckles and pulls me back onto his chest. “Don’t worry,” he says, his free hand brushing away the strands of hair which have fallen in front of my face. “I submitted letters of absence for us both last week.”
I let out a sigh of relief and crawl back under the blankets. With my head resting on his chest, I stare at the silk drapes hanging from the bedframe. They dance back and forth in the light breeze. I listen to them rustling against the wooden floor, as well as the turning of pages as Arluin reads. My eyes drift shut, a heaviness falling over me. The Ice Honey has shifted my headache now, and the gentle sounds are like a lullaby.
But before sleep can claim me, Arluin says, “Reyna?”
My eyes flutter open. “Yes, Arly?”
He clears his throat. I realize he’s set his book down on the counter. “I...” he begins, but his words falter. “There’s something I need to tell you. I should have last night.”
“What’s the matter?” I ask, sitting up.
“If you change your mind about marrying me, I will understand.”
“Arly, what are you talking about? Why would I not want to marry you anymore?”
Arluin leans back into the embroidered pillows and closes his eyes.
I weave my fingers through his and press our conjoined hands to my chest. “We already made a promise to each other. Whatever you feel you must tell me will not change that.”
His throat bobs as he swallows hard. “I’ve never told you about this...”
“Is this about your father?”
He manages a slight nod.
“If it’s too painful to say, then don’t say it.” I brush aside a dark curl and kiss the skin beneath.
“But you have a right to know what you’ll be marrying.” His eyes remain shut.
“Whatever this is, I will love you all the same.”
He draws out a deep breath. I hear it shudder as it passes his lips. “Even if I am a monster?”
“You’re not a monster, Arluin. I’ve told you so many times that you’re not your father. Nor will you ever be.”
Arluin shakes his head. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”
My throat dries as my racing mind tries to fill in the blanks. I suspect what he will say next, but I desperately don’t want to believe it. Nor do I wish for him to see the resignation in my expression. I’m glad his eyes are still closed.
“Arly,” I say softly, not trusting my tongue with anything else.
