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Franzy heaves a sigh. The gauzy, salt-ridden film coating my eyes blurs my vision, but she takes my hands in hers and kisses the backs of each one. “Remember theendof the song, my leyanyn.
“Breasts and milk to shoulder to bear
A voice to soothe his lone nightmares
Eyes to lips to feet to hands
Help us to raise him on this land.
“Do you understand, Isla? The first part is “your”. Not the rest. If you choose, only your body bears the burden. In the past, menders were rare. Remember the women who died in birth? Our ancestors wrote this song to encourage the whole village to share the responsibility. And we don’t have a village, my leyanyn. We have the Citadel of Bones. We have all Nathyan Ghyeal!”
“And most of all, I have...you,” I conclude and touch my lips to hers, a brush of my mouth.
Franzy smiles and straightens my crown. “You’ll always have me.”
When I lower my head, thoughts retreating to the mines, I chew on my inner cheek, knowing she will sense my resistance. The revelation stalks the back of my throat, pounding on its doorway.
It doesn’t take long. “Now, what is it?” Franzy simpers and pats the back of my hand.
“I shouldn’t. You’ve already done so much, I—“
“Isla Bandya Adayra Morganyach!”
Uh oh. Franzy only ever uses such a tone when she’s angry. I can’t help but avoid her eyes. Her body language turns rigid as a bow before she snatches my chin and tugs my face back to hers. I cow beneath her burning emeralds, biting my lower lip from her chastisement, “You may battle the Corpse King and the God of Death, but you never battleme, leyanyn. You are not the only one in this room with a crown.” She sweeps a hand to her princess circlet resting on her bedside table. “Tell. Me. Now.”
I spill my guts. I reveal everything from the previous night about discovering the Unseen Section, the secret path to the mines, the slaves with her face, confronting Allysteir, and finally testing the God of Death.
Franzy remains silent the whole time. By the end, salt from my tears bathes my cheeks in a crusty layer. I collapse into my sweetheart’s lap, grow blue heather around her, and tell her, “Allysteir will go to Aydon, I swear he will. I won’t let—“
“Thank you for telling me, leyanyn. But Aydon ismyhusband. If a conversation must be had, I will speak to him. You handle your husband, but you will not confront mine.”
“But Franzy—“
At first, she pinches her eyes, brows knotting low in a warning. I gulp. “Promise me you will not confront Aydon.” She raises her hand to the air, palm to me, fingers straight, awaiting. “You have done more than enough this long night, Isla. You have not slept. You are weary. You must take time to consider the next steps for your body. It will take time to summon an Inker or a Wisp-Shee, and I may help you. But for now...promise me.”
Shoulders sinking low in understanding, my heart too fatigued for debate, I acquiesce and press my palm and fingers to hers on a hand-bond.
Franzy nods. “Now, my leyanyn, remove your robes and lie down.”
I draw my brows together, my body growing heavier from the suspicion. “What, why?”
“I am going to help you sleep.” She smiles and touches the fastenings of Allysteir’s robe.
My hands fly to hers. “Oh, Franzy, you don’t have to—“
She shoves my hands away and undoes the feeble robe tie. “Iwantto, leyanyn. It is almost dawn, and you need rest. I’ve already had mine. Along with a fresh healing from menders last night.”
“But—“
Franzy blows frustrated breath through her nose, huffs, then tugs me closer by those robe bindings until her nose prods mine. “If you truly love me, then respect my willandmy gifts. The bed is warm and soft and sweet from the purple bell-heather I love so much and adore you for growing. Now, letmeadore your body and quell its tension. The King may have his lullabies. But my hands have treasured your body for far longer.”
I tremble, self-conscious for the first time with her. Franzy slides the outer heavier robe off my shoulders and casts it to the floor. I shudder as she pauses to trace a finger around my lips, her words choking mine and stealing my breath.
“My lips have kissed your lips and tasted your essence. My eyes have watched you grow as your flowers. And my heart knows you as it knows myself. That is something no Corpse King or Death God or future child can ever take from us, my Lady Queen, Isla Bandya Adayra Morganyach.”
Teary-eyed, I touch my brow to hers, thoughts too scattered to think straight. My heart thrums warmth in an arrow to my thighs. Adoration clumps my throat when she releases my skin from the robes and gazes at my flesh, her eyes coasting across Allysteir’s little bite marks.
Sighing, Franzy rubs her thumb across one mark and expresses, “I will kiss all of these tonight.” She cups my shoulders, smiles, and urges me to lie back.
