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Az shakes his head. “Not personally, no. But I never meant for our own to suffer.” He straightens. “I’ll just have to be more vigilant.”
I fight the urge to gape. “But Az, you can’t just stay awake all hours.”
He offers me an appeasing smile. “What? You don’t have faith in me?”
No. No, I don’t.
“I found a healer who specializes in this sort of thing,” he says. “Turns out there’s an elixir that keeps the body from needing sleep.”
I find my gaze slipping to his still-twitching hand.
“That’s enough about me, though,” he says, sitting on the bed next to me. I tense at his nearness, the way his shoulder brushes against mine. “Do you feel…do you feel that you’re getting better?”
I stare at the empty mirror frame across the room, allowing my gaze to trace the pattern of war and bloodshed the artist found fit to carve into the gold.
“Some,” I say, my throat dry. “I just…” I bite my lip. It’s dry too.
“You just what?” Az slips his fingers into mine, resting both of our hands on my leg. His thumb caresses my skin, occasionally slipping and brushing my thigh.
I want to vomit, bile swirling in my gut, but I hold it in.
This won’t work if he knows just how disgusted I am by him.
“Well, I’m lonely, Az.”
He frowns, sadness overcoming his sage-green eyes as he looks me over. “I know I’ve been busy with ruling matters. I’ve been so consumed with creating a kingdom where I can keep you safe, I haven’t been here for you. That will change, Asha.”
Despair constricts my throat at the idea of Az spending more time with me, but I swallow it down. “Thank you,” I say, and I think perhaps it’s the worst lie I’ve ever told. “But I know you’re busy with important things. This is the beginning of your reign, the dawn of a new dynasty. The groundwork you lay now will determine the fate of Alondria for centuries to come. You can’t neglect that just because I’m a wimp.”
Az smiles down at me, and for a moment, he actually looks like himself. Like the Az I remember, before greed and lust for power devoured my friend’s heart from the inside.
It hurts. It hurts worse than anything, seeing what can become of someone who used to be good.
“I won’t neglect anything, Asha. I promise. This kingdom is somewhere our children will be safe by the time I’m done with it.”
I have to stop breathing in order to keep from reacting to that. Our children. Az made me his queen, even if it was in a manner that utterly ignored marriage laws that had been held for centuries. Overlooked the fact that Kiran is my husband and I his wife.
Recently, I hoped Az making me his queen was more about making a public sign to the people that he’d ruined Kiran. What’s a bolder statement of power than to take the previous king’s bride for your own?
It was about the statement, about pretense.
Or so I thought.
I’m not so sure anymore.
He must notice my apprehension, because he adjusts on the bed to face me, this time reaching across my lap, taking both of my hands in his. “Asha, I won’t pressure you into anything you’re not ready for. I know you still suffer…spells. That the magic Kiran wrought on you hasn’t fled entirely. I don’t want…” He takes a breath, steadying himself. “I told you over a year ago that I had things I needed to work through.”
I can’t help but notice he isn’t looking at your face right now, hisses my magic.
Indeed, Az stares at our hands, at the tattoo that swirls up my arm, binding me to Kiran. Quietly, Az takes my sleeve and pulls it further down my arm, covering the rest of the tattoo with his hand.
He breathes a sigh of relief at not having to look at it any longer. Then he peers into my face. “I just wanted you to know that I’ve worked through them now. Entirely. I’m yours, Asha, through and through. Always have been. I only wish I hadn’t been too dull to realize it sooner. But you know what? I can’t even bring myself to regret it. Because look where it’s led us, Asha. You and I? We were born to shape the world. And we’re supposed to do it together.”
I want to remind Az he’s married, but again, he seems to have forgotten that much. The only marriage he seems to honor is the fake one he’s forced me into.
“So when you’re ready, I’m ready.”
There’s a dull aching in my heart. One that reminds me, almost dryly, how thrilled this confession might have made a previous me.
