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“I know that you’re not fragile and that you’re strong, Daphne,” Essos says quietly. I turn to face him, curling an arm under my head. “I feel as though I’m beating a dead horse at this point, but the thought of losing you sends me into a panic. My head feels too light, sounds are too loud, and I think I might pass out.”
“Why didn’t you tell me people are making threats against me?” I ask point-blank.
He turns on his side, resting his hand on my hip before scooting closer to me so our bodies are touching again. I try not to squirm as his finger draws invisible patterns on my hip, tickling me.
“Because I didn’t want to stress you out. Because stress is bad for our baby, and I want you focused on growing them.”
“You can’t say I’m not a fragile flower and then proceed to lock me up in a tower and throw away the key because I’m pregnant. That’s not you, Essos. Are you doing it because of what happened with Galen at the ball? Do you not trust me?” I hate the sensation of tears pricking the back of my eyes.
“Ofcourse,I trust you, love. I’m being a prick because of everything I’ve already said. We’re going to war with Posey. She killed myfatherwithout a thought. She stripped the souls from the Underworld and caused a zombie apocalypse in the mortal realm. I don’t doubt that she would harm you again.”
“And the threats that aren’t from Posey?” I trace a finger along Essos’s side.
“No one is getting near you.”
“So, thereareother threats. Tell me, Essos. I can’t defend myself if I don’t know about them.”
Essos grits his teeth but doesn’t look away. “You want to know about the people who say the Traitor Queen should have stayed dead? The people who say I am unfit to rule for choosing you? Who still support Galen and want your head for killing him? That’s not even the ugliest of the things they want to do to you.”
My insides drop away as fear seeps in. Essos doesn’t have to spell any more out. I know what men like to do to women who are more powerful than them, how they like to make sure the woman feels smaller and inferior so she knows her place. I think about being subjected to that. The feel of Galen’s body over mine when he assaulted me after the second Trial. I still haven’t told Essos the whole of it, in part fearing that he’ll give in to his desire to lock me away, regardless of the repercussions.
My hand stops moving, but his don’t. He captures my face and rolls us so that his body is covering mine once again. “That look right there? That flash of fear? That stomach-swooping concern that somethingmighthappen to you that you just felt? That’s what I feelevery timeI see one of these threats. I’ve lived too long without you.”
I wrap an arm around him and pull him tighter to me. He still doesn’t transfer his full weight to me, but he does relax just a little. When I release him, he rolls back onto his side to face me.
“How about this? Maybetalkto me,” I say. “Tell me what’s going on. I do need to know that people want me dead. I need to be on alert. I can’t go frolicking through the flowers and then come across an enchanted spinning wheel and prick my finger on it if I don’t know such a curse exists. We got really good at communicating after everything that happened with Ellie, so I don’t know what’s going on here.”
“Is ‘I’m a coward’ a good answer?”
“No. You also owe me an explanation about Lucky’s comment.”
Essos winces. “I hoped you hadn’t caught that.”
“I did. Now fess up. This confession also better involve tacos.”
“How about I taco-bout my love for you instead?”
I glare at him, and he only smirks.
“I’m sorry, love. It’s hard to take that look seriously when you look good enough to eat.” He sighs and looks away from me, his face hardening as if he’s girding himself to tell me something I won’t want to hear. “No. I didn’t sleep with Lucky, but I was at a party where she was coming on to me. I was trashed and can’t remember much past that, but I do know that Finn took me home that night. I asked him about it, and he swore up and down that he didn’t let me out of his sight.”
I can’t help the slightly strangled sound that comes out of my throat. It’s not as bad as I thought, but how many other women pursued him?
I don’t want to know because, at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.
Essos seems to sense that I have more on my mind, because he continues. “The only sober focus I had was you. I was petitioning the Council daily for your return and was being turned down, and Posey finally told me that if I kept pushing, then she would never release you. I was at my lowest, although that’s not an excuse. I wish I could tell you you’re never going to face other women with similar claims, but I can’t.”
I disentangle myself from his grip, and his hands tighten for just a second before he releases me.
“I need a shower,” I tell him. It’s a credit to Essos how well he can read me. He knows I need my space. Not because of him and his actions, but because the idea of someone taking advantage of him while he was drunk is making my blood boil, and if I say anything past the clenching of my teeth, I might level a forest.
While the water warms, I focus on my breathing. It’s only as I’m rinsing my hair that it occurs to me that Essos might see my silence as anger directed at him for being with someone else while I was dead.
When I finally emerge from my shower, I’m tying the knot around my robe when I see a tray on the counter with five perfect tacos.
I look to my husband, who is sitting in our bed, a book open on his lap. There’s a wary look on his face, and I want to kiss it away. The covers are pulled up around him like some sort of makeshift armor, and I wonder if his confession has left him feeling vulnerable.
“I love you,” I tell Essos as I pull off my robe. “I’m not upset with you. I’m upset that you were put in that position. Whatever happened or didn’t happen while I was dead doesn’t change anything for me.”
