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“Would you prefer tea?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“There’s cream…”
Her eyes jumped to Lucian’s. “I see. Thank you. And honey.” She smiled, blushing with pleasure. After adding some to her small cup, she pinched the small handle and took a sip. She could taste it even though she knew they were in a dream. “What’s happening?”
Lucian shrugged. “I thought you might like to enjoy some different sites?” He smiled. “Or as close as we can get to them in my dreams for now. Is this so terrible for the time being? Considering?”
She shook her head, even if she felt a touch of guilt for being here when her family was suffering. “Why are we here, here?”
“I wanted to give you something,” Lucian said, pulling out his napkin and laying it over his lap. Brinna realized he was also wearing different clothes—like the men who’d passed them earlier. His suit was a dappled, dark gray material. A matching vest covered his chest, fastened with black buttons over a stark white shirt. His blond hair was neatly styled. He always looked so handsome, and her heart compressed in her chest to gaze upon him now, so much so that she had to look away.
“Why?” she asked.
When he remained silent, she looked up and realized they were now alone on the street. Though the city remained, the outdoor space where they’d been taking their meal, the people, the bustle of the street, all the noise, was gone. It was just her and Lucian sitting across from one another. Alone. In absolute silence.
“A reprieve,” he said. “For the moment, at least?”
She swallowed and nodded. The sentiment was so thoughtful, her heart pinched, and she gasped as she pressed her fingers there.
Lucian’s eyes followed her movement, then jumped back up to her face. “I thought—well, I’ve been to many places. I thought–”
“That you could take me?”
It was his turn to swallow and nod.
Brinna noticed the way his throat bobbed, and a sound—a rushing of blood—seemed to swell inside her head, then rushed through the rest of her, filling up all the empty places she’d been ignoring for so long with warmth, light—and something else. Words struggled to form for all the feelings controlling everything else. “That’s so…” She took a deep breath, moved by his thoughtfulness. “Lucian.”
He reached across the table and placed a hand over hers, thought he didn’t look at her, but at their hands. His fingers wrapped around hers, before he turned her hand over, palm up, then skimmed her open palm with his thumb. “Just what… a friend… should do,” he said quietly.
Only Brinna knew this wasn’t friendship. Perhaps she had thought they would find a way to be friends at one time but realized their interactions had never been friendly. There had always been a current running between them, a current of sparks and fire.
“Is that all we are?” she asked. “Friends? Even after those kisses?”
“I didn’t want to presume.” His eyes jumped back to hers.
The empty street and cafe where they sat broke apart around them.
A dense forest appeared, though it wasn’t the Whitling Woods. This was something altogether different. This forest had vines like the hedge, but also giant broad leaves larger than her head, towering trees, a narrow path, and beyond them, a stone structure. It was hot, like being wrapped in a steaming, wet blanket and squeezed. It was hard to draw a breath.
“Where are we?” she asked and took Lucian’s hand in hers this time. Her skin was slick.
He squeezed her hand. “A temple. Did you know that this is one thing in common across the Vasmost?”
“What? Temples?”
And suddenly they were inside of it, without needing to walk. Lucian stood so close, his hand rested at the small of her back—comforting and safe. It was cooler inside, as if the thick stone insulated the interior from the pervasive heat pressing in around it.
“Yes. Places where gods are worshiped, but rarely the same god. Some worshiped the sun, some the moon, some worshiped various animals, and other rivers or mountains, unseen deities. It was as if there was a need in every creature to find a way to make meaning of their place in the cosmos.” He paused, as if holding onto the thought for a future moment.
“I understand that.” Brinna spun in place, taking in the ruins. The dark stone was overgrown with the vegetation of the forest beyond, slick with moss, some of the stone cracked apart under the influence of vines and other plants. When she tilted her head, she found a round opening built into the roof, allowing a ring of light to illuminate the floor where she stood next to Lucian.
“I bet this was a temple to worship the sun.” Her eyes drifted up from the floor to look at Lucian. He was dressed once more in the light clothes she was used to seeing him in, and he was glowing in the light shining from above. “To you—god of day and light.”
“What do you understand?” he asked, instead of accepting her theory about this temple.
“What it feels like to want to understand your place.”
