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Maybe he’s happy in the life he walks now, though I try to avoid the thought for multiple reasons. The first being Gunter’s tapestries, the ones that run the lengths of the hallways and have led Zora through a hundred different lives, all with different goals in mind.
But Gunter is gone, and there’s no one to weave a beautiful story into a tapestry for Nox, and I fear I’ve launched him into the abyss with no guidance.
I fear what will happen when Zora reaches the last thread of whatever tapestry she’s working through now. That when she wakes up and finds out what I’ve done to her brother, she won’t understand.
That she’ll despise me for it.
I don’t know that I can stand it if Nox’s sister hates me.
I’m so used to being disregarded, looked down upon, and most of the time I can brush it off.
But if Zora glares at me with eyes I imagine to be as stunning and fierce as the sun itself, I will wilt.
So I spin thread, and occasionally hold Nox’s hand while I wait for my friends, and try not to imagine that in whatever life Nox is living, he’s holding the hand of some other girl. That he’s got their child wrapped up in his arms.
I fear one day I’ll rip him from that happiness and bring him back to me.
If I can find a way to make an end of Farin, that is.
Which seems unlikely.
So perhaps I should wish for Nox to find someone else.
I’m not sure that I’ve grown into that sort of woman yet, but something tells me I’ll have the time while he sleeps.
My heart aches and hangs heavily in my chest. Day turns to night, and I’ve about decided to climb into the bed next to Nox and cry into his chest when the door opens.
Scattered moonlight peppers the floor and illuminates a man.
His hair is dark, his skin naturally tanned, though from his coloring it looks as though he’s been avoiding the sun about as much as I have. His sage-green eyes are kind and clever.
I recognize him as the man from the inn.
“You shouldn’t wander about in places like this,” I say, stretching my sore limbs and standing to face him. It’s odd, how likeherI sound, how formidable and cruel.
I didn’t ask to be formidable and cruel.
I only asked to live.
I wonder if at some point, the queen of Mystral made the same bargain.
“From the looks of it, I don’t believe I’m the one who’s wandering,” says the man, his gaze quickly evaluating Nox and Zora as they sleep before returning his attention to me.
“You followed me,” I say.
“I did.”
“You can’t be in here,” I say, and it’s true.
“Why?” he asks, lazily putting his hands in the pockets of his black pants. “You can’t let it get out that there are two realm-walkers trapped in a suspension state lying unprotected in the castle?”
I let my canines flash. “I wouldn’t say they’re unprotected.”
If I unsettle him at all, he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he crosses the light-flecked floor and takes a seat at the edge of Zora’s bed.
When I hiss at him, he only returns it with an amused grin.
I return it by launching myself at him and pinning him against the wall by his throat.
