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‘He didn’t do it on purpose.’ She didn’t look me in the eyes, focusing her gaze instead on her small, intertwined hands in her lap. Even her fingers were freckled. ‘I don’t blame him – he wanted this as much as I did. But that still doesn’t mean I’m happy to be in this position after trying very explicitly not to end up there, and it also doesn’t mean I’ll suddenly agree with Beyla that nothing could be more important than soothing broken alf hearts.’
Nervousness stirred in my guts, a sensation close to nausea. They had always been there, hadn't they, these slow undercurrents of disagreement between my friends? I’d seen them in Ylfreda’s anger when we first came to the Underground. Edored’s attempts to remove Creon from the library, and his fury at Lyn when she stopped him.
But they’d been undercurrents for over a century, and I was bringing all of it to the surface. Lyn could tell me it wasn’t my responsibility a hundred times over, but theywouldn’tbe in this mess if not for me.
‘Stop blaming yourself, Em,’ Lyn said softly, watching me closely with those bright amber eyes. ‘We wouldn’t have a chance at winning this war without you, either.’
It felt like a cheap excuse, a cop-out rather than an honest judgement. I opened my mouth to ask if there was anything I could do, realised she likely wouldn’t tell me even if there was, and settled for the second question burning on my lips. ‘Is he going to forgive me for this?’
She sighed, hesitating just a moment too long for my pounding heart. ‘It’s not you he needs to forgive. Give him some time to figure that out.’
Which was no comfort at all, coming from the person who was always the first to offer a reassurance if there was even the slightest trace of one to be found.
‘Right,’ I said numbly.
‘Time to go pack your bag. And go pull Creon out of bed, if he isn’t up yet.’ A wry smile flitted around her lips. ‘At least you won’t have to worry about everyone and their sister volunteering to be chaperones.’
That was the opposite of a consolation, somehow. I made myself smile anyway and trudged out, finding Creon – awake, dressed, and packed – in his own hut.
‘Morning,’ I said, attempting levity but achieving none.
His smile was equally convincing. An unsettling awkwardness lingered in the air as I sank down beside him, not quite sure why that foot of empty air was still between us, why I hadn't yet jumped into his lap like I’d have done in our bedrooms in the Underground. There was no one here to see us, for the gods’ sakes! There was absolutely no reason to feel like we had to find a brand new balance merely because other people – who I had always known would be unhappy about the revelation – would not have liked to know where I was spending my time right now.
And yet it was there, that minimal hesitation as I forced myself to roll over into his lap.
It was the abrupt vanishing of the separation, I realised. The Emelin I was with him had always been a secret, almost a different person from the Emelin people knew and had opinions about – someone who did not have to care about common propriety and other headaches. Now Creon’s Emelinwasthe public Emelin, at least to the people who mattered to me – and didn’t that mean that I had somehow brought the public into this little world that had always been ours alone?
My heartbeat quickened, accelerating from agitation into the first stages of panic. What if I had somehow ruined eventhis, the only damn thing that had always been easy all this time?
I was working myself into a spiral. I knew I was, and yet it took an almost inhuman effort to draw in a deep breath, hold it for five seconds, and force my heartbeat down. Hell’s sake, I could be more sensible than this. Was I hoping to restore anyone’s good opinion of me by showing up at the Cobalt Court as a shivering mess, unable to make even a dent in the Mother’s magical shields?
It was only when I looked up that I became aware of Creon’s eyes on my face, observing me in silence. Seeing everything, as usual. Knowing me, as usual.
‘I’m a bit of a mess,’ I breathed, lowering my gaze to his hands so I would not need to look at him.
Don’t suppose you want me to carve some artistic marks into anyone?he signed, so carelessly that it had to be a deliberate provocation.
I took the bait. It was better than feeling hopeless. ‘You know damn well that would make everything worse.’
He chuckled without sound, chest straining against his black shirt.It’s so annoying when your good sense and reason get in the way of my dramatics.
And just like that, the ice was broken, the strange tension between us gone. I snorted a laugh and dropped my head back onto his powerful thigh. ‘Yes, I can see the annoyance on your face, Your Highness.’
The emotions on his face had very little to do with annoyance – the small wrinkles around his almond eyes, the skewed grin playing around his lips. He flicked a finger against my cheek, a gesture as playful as it was reprimanding, and I had to bite my lip not to laugh out loud.
What do you want?he signed.
One day I would be ready for that question. Today, as usual, I was not.
‘Hide away and never look any of them in the eyes again,’ I muttered, all lust for laughter withering. ‘Which I suppose comes with some practical obstacles.’
He grimaced.Could get rid of their eyes for you.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’ I glared up at him, unable to suppress a chuckle, but noticing it sounded suspiciously like a sob of despair. ‘I think that might hinder them on the battlefield, if nothing else.’
The amused twitch of his lips told me he agreed.
‘Do you know if Tared told others? Except for Beyla, that is?’
