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“I never wanted you here!” he roars.
It shouldn’t hurt.It shouldn’t.But his words rob me of every single breath left in my body.
“Did it ever occur to you, Zaina, that you weren’t the only one in this marriage out of obligation? Mine was to my people, as it always is. But no, I never wanted a wife.”
I finally find my voice. “Well, then I guess this worked out well for you, in the end.”
His jaw drops and his eyes blaze with fury. He opens his mouth to respond, then closes it again, like he can’t manage the words to express his rage.
Abruptly, he spins toward the passageway, his hand already halfway to his axe, and it irritates me more than it should. Not that he’s leaving in the middle of a fight I didn’t want to have anyway, but that he has the luxury of walking away when I’m stuck here.
It feels like a metaphor for our entire marriage, even if most of it wasn’t real.
Chapter Thirty
Zaina
It takes me precisely twenty aggravating minutes before I decide to follow Einar. I throw on one of his cloaks over the pajamas he begrudgingly brought me after he saw me in his shirt. Fortunately, he brought me a pair of slippers as well.
Of course, I could have gone to get them myself, but I haven’t been willing to face my former quarters again for reasons I would rather not explore too deeply.
Sliding my feet into the satin shoes with fur lining, I hope that the snow is packed enough that it won’t soak through right away. Einar’s boots are far too big for me to wear, and leaving the castle, even for a moment, is worth the risk of inadequate footwear.
Even as I slip through the deserted back passageway, I avert my eyes from the ravaged door. It doesn’t help, though, not when every step down this hall assails me with a visceral image of the day I left.
Khijhana trots at my side on silent footfalls, and I find myself reaching out to clench my fingers in her fur, assuring myself she is right here next to me and that the sound of her keening isn’t echoing off the walls. I briefly debate turning around, but I can’t bear the thought of another day inside that room. Besides, I’m not the only one who needs to get out. My chalyx has only gone on the shortest of excursions, unwilling to leave my side for long.
Neither of us is very capable at thriving in cages. Even gilded ones.
I shove the familiar passageway door open. It’s the same one I used the day I left, and it’s hard to push away that sense of foreboding, like the door will seal shut behind me, and I will be left alone in the cold the way I nearly spent my eternity.
A shiver creeps down my spine, and I force myself to take a deep breath, to remember that I am not alone this time. Khijhana is here.
With her presence to bolster me, I step out into the courtyard. Einar’s cloak isn’t as warm as mine was, and the frigid night air seeps into my bones. A pang accompanies the thought as I realize that was another kindness on Sigrid’s part that I took for granted, her making my clothing significantly warmer than that of the people who were accustomed to these temperatures.
I would rather be cold than confined, though, so we continue on.
Now all that’s left is to find Einar and whatever is destined to meet the blade of his axe. It isn’t much of a leap to start with the forest, given that he comes in covered in wood chips half of the time.
Sure enough, once I am through the side entry of the castle, I hear a loudthunkecho from the southeast corner. Then another. And another before Einar’s voice rings out a warning sound.
Found you.
Shortly after, one of the large spruce trees falls out of sight behind the castle walls. It’s an impressive sight to behold, one giant felling another. I dart through the shadows, my chalyx at my side.
Anotherthunkandcrackecho around me until my eyes land on the man I’ve been searching for.
The moonlight glistens off of the axe blade as he raises it high above his head before bringing it down with tremendous force, splitting a large wooden log in two. His silver-white tresses are pulled back into a knot, and the sleeves of his tunic are rolled up over his elbows, his muscles clamoring to break through the material.
Readying his axe again, he brings it down once more, cutting off another piece of the fallen tree. With two strikes, the axe slices cleanly through. He’s about to go again when Khijhana begins to purr, loudly, and stalks toward Einar.
Traitor.
His head snaps up as he notices her through the trees. I can see the confusion register on his face, but he hasn’t spotted me. Not yet.
That is, until Khijha glances backward, revealing my location.
Double traitor.
