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So he tries a different tactic. “This isn’t your responsibility. I can’t allow you to--”
“I thought we were past youallowingme to do anything,” I interrupt him. “And as far as responsibility goes, this began with Madame, who sent me here. Because of me, you and your people almost didn’t have a chance at all. I need to do this, Einar.”
His face is unreadable, every trace of emotion locked behind a mask of granite. Minutes pass in a tense silence, neither of us willing to bend. Finally, Einar stands and wraps me in his arms. Pressing a kiss to my forehead, he breathes in deeply.
“I can’t lose you again,” he says.
I pull back enough to look at his face, and instead of the closed off expression that was there before, it’s full of something else now. Fear and something stronger.
I don’t bother telling him he won’t, not when I’ve done enough lying for a lifetime. Instead, I lean back into him, slipping my arms around him and letting him know I understand. “I could say the same.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Zaina
We table our argument about who will go into the dragon’s lair. It’s late and we’re both exhausted. More importantly, I’ve already made up my mind.
I burrow into Einar’s form, trying not to think about a fiery cave full of the bones of those who were less fortunate than I was. Thoughts of the future creep in, and they are no better than the past.
I know I can’t hide here forever. The king can’t have a secret, hidden wife, and Madame will discover that I’m alive at some point.
Even if neither of those things were true, I could no sooner walk away and leave my sisters to suffer at her hands than I could sever my own arm. They are a part of me, and I will find a way to get them out of the life Madame forced us all into.I have to.
I trace Einar’s fingers with my own, watching his chest rise and fall evenly and trying to quell the panic that threatens to consume me. The only way to keep him and protect them is to defeat Madame, and I struggle to believe that’s possible. One small victory in a completely different country is not at all the same as rooting her out of her own.
We have so much to discuss and figure out, but for now, I press myself against Einar’s unwavering warmth. It doesn’t eliminate the fears, but it does manage to keep them at bay long enough for me to breathe.
A knock sounds at the passageway door, lighter than Leif’s, and Einar’s eyes pop open. A small smile graces his lips as he calls for the person to enter.
For a moment, I forget to care who is at the door when his deep voice rumbles through his bare chest under my hand. His eyes catch mine, and heat flashes through them before he forces his gaze away, settling on the slowly opening door instead.
My jaw nearly drops at the sight of the tall, dark skinned woman carrying a box wider than she is through the narrow doorway. I didn’t get a good look at Sigrid’s face yesterday, but she is gorgeous. Though it shouldn’t surprise me, knowing that Einar is in his sixties and looks no older than thirty, it still floors me a bit to realize the matronly woman hardly looks older than my husband.
She gives me a look that’s not quite a smile but conveys satisfaction all the same. I jump up to assist her.
“Shouldn’t you be resting?” I ask in Jokithan.
“I’ve rested enough for a lifetime, thank you.” She gives me a look that tells me not to bother myself with what she does. “And I am willing to wager I feel a great deal better than most of this castle.” She says the words with no accusation, but I can’t help the sinking feeling in my stomach.
Though we had cause to celebrate her health, the rest of the castle still suffers.
“None of that.” Sigrid waves her hand dismissively. “You’ll get that sorted out soon enough. Though, instead of worrying about what I’m doing, you should be asking what’s in the box that arrived this morning.” She shoots a sly look in Einar’s direction.
Well, her face may be unfamiliar, but her personality is completely unchanged.
“Point taken.” I nod. “Though I hope it’s not another chalyx. Khijhana might get jealous.”
The giant cat looks up at the sound of her name but appears unconcerned enough with the contents of the crate that I highly doubt it’s a live animal. As she and I both step closer, a scent wafts out, though, something achingly familiar. My mind swirls with hazy visions of my parents’ faces and a bustling marketplace.
“Did you...?” I look at Einar, and he’s wearing a look I might even call self-conscious on any other man.
He gestures for me to look inside the box, and Sigrid leaves the room to get our breakfast. Or more likely, to give us a moment of privacy.
When Khijhana arrived, I had been terrified of what might await me in an unknown box. This time, I open the lid with a cautious curiosity.
“Did you, perhaps, spend an hour in your study, researching the culture of the woman you were going to spend the rest of your life with?” I raise a single eyebrow at him.
“Perhaps,” is all he says.
