16

Avad Sud, 1

Erynae woke before dawn, she rose from bed and walked to window silently, without alarming other three and threw the shutters wide with both hands. The moon light spilled in room, she closed her eyes on cold wind, placed right hand on her heart and left on it.

"Fahn forbid every wish, known and unknown willed against this house in ill will and grant in their place the good ones!"

She stayed still for a moment, then she followed the garden path down toward the river. The mist hadn't yet burned off the river when she reached the bend where the reeds grew thickest and for a moment, she forgot where she was.

She'd been home a week ago, wandering the castle garden, walled in grey stone gone soft with moss. She'd wandered the same path every morning, before the castle stirred, past the pear trees to the low bench beneath the yew.

She let herself walk as if she might round the bench and find tree waiting rather than a strange new campus still deciding whether it wanted to feel like home. The path curved ahead and she stopped walking without deciding to, he walked through the mist as if she'd conjured him by thinking too hard about home and gotten him instead of the castle garden.

Daevosky was crossing the bridge bare-chested, shirt slung over one shoulder, his skin was damp with sweat despite the morning chill and he was breathing hard, he'd come straight from morning drills.

He saw her near stairs left to bridge, he didn't stop for even a fraction of second, his gaze stayed on her as he pulled the shirt off his shoulder, dragged it on in one motion and tugged the hem down while closing the last stretch of the path between them.

He stopped in front of her, closer than strictly necessary and reached up to push his wet hair back from his neck that fell forward over his neck.

Gods, he's charming, Erynae thought, and he knows it far too well.

"You're up early," his voice was a little rough from exertion.

A drop of water slid from his hairline down the side of his throat, and he didn't seem to notice or care. her mind went embarrassingly blank, there was something almost unfair about it, that he could look like he'd been fighting something at this ungodly hour and still look like that.

He's talking, say something, don't stare Erynae.

She thought but could manage no words, she just stared, acutely aware of everything at once. The damp gleam on his collarbone, the way his eyes hadn't left hers once, the low rasp in his voice that landed somewhere behind her ribs instead of in her ears.

"I..." she started and then lost the rest of it entirely when he tipped his head slightly.

Much more sensible version of herself was taking notes for later, this is a problem, he is going to be a whole problem, while the rest of her simply stood there watching a bead of water travel down his throat like it was the single most fascinating thing she'd witnessed all week.

"Daevosky Vialthor," he extended his hand," of Vialthor."

"Erynae Sinhalaese," she blinked herself back just in time to slide her hand into his, "of Kakinara."

"Didn't think castle girls knew what sunrise looked like," his thumb moved once over the back of her hand lightly.

"I like it early," she managed that much.

"What else do you like, Erynae?" He tilted his head.

It was not the answer he was watching for. His unapologetic gaze moved over her, and he looked at her properly.

She was a Verdani woman, thin and lean in a way that made her seem almost made of wind and light. Her faint blue skin caught the evening glow with a quiet sheen, while her silver hair fell around her shoulders like threads of moonlight. Her ears were round, her fingers were long and delicate, and yet it was her eyes that held him.

Green, he knew green, he knew the green of young leaves when spring first touched the branches. He knew the deep green of moss beneath old stones, the darker green of pine needles, the pale green of river reeds, and the countless shades that filled the forests of Vialthor and yet hers matched none of them.

He searched his memory for something that came close, leaves? No, then moss? Not quite, perhaps the green of the deep forest after rain Closer, but still wrong, her eyes carried a shade that seemed to belong nowhere he knew, as though some color had been hidden from the world until it found its way into her gaze.

"Sea," she said, and something distant crossed her expression as she said it.

He barely registered the word, he was still looking at her mouth shaping it, at the small crease it left at the corner when she wasn't paying attention to being watched, and it took him a full second longer than it should have to arrive back at the actual conversation.

"The sea," he repeated, mostly to have something to say that wasn't I could look at you like this every morning and still want more of it.

"The sea," she said again and a smile appeared on her face as though she were back home. "I used to watch it from my room."

He found himself wanting to know exactly what that view looked like because it had put that particular light in her eyes. "You're smiling," he said at last.

"Am I?" She touched her own cheek briefly as though checking.

"You are," he didn't look away, didn't bother pretending he hadn't been staring. "It suits you."

Whatever the distance between her kingdom and his empire, he thought, however many borders, however many miles of road it must have taken, none of it had stopped her from ending up exactly here, in front of him, in this particular morning light.

Something about that felt less like coincidence and more like the world had been quietly arranging it the whole time.

“You should go,” Erynae said softly.

“I should," he nodded.

“Without me," she added.

Daevosky's gaze dropped and only then did he seem to remember that he was still holding her hand. His fingers loosened slowly, but he did not release her at once. Instead, he looked down at their joined hands and a crooked, knowing smile touched his mouth.

“I suppose I have already made one poor decision this morning," he leaned in a little. “Leaving without you will have to be the second.”

He turned before she could answer and walked away, carrying the warmth of her hand with him as though he had no intention of admitting how much he liked having it there.

A faint warmth rose into Erynae’s cheeks, and she lowered her gaze before turning toward the Panini halls, she walked quickly and the entire way back, her thoughts returned to him, the sound of his voice, the warmth of his hand, the quiet confidence in the way he had looked at her.

She tried to dismiss it, but the memory followed her through every corridor and so still lost within memory of him, she pushed the door open with far more force than she intended and the sudden crack of it startled Ryska from her sleep.

Erynae stopped, she saw the fear at once, in the way her gaze darted toward the corridor behind Erynae, then returned to the room as though she expected something or someone to follow her through the doorway.

Even after she realized who stood before her, the fear did not completely leave and something in Erynae’s chest tightened, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Ryska.

“It’s fine,” she whispered. “It’s only me, this is our room and you’re safe here.”

The words settled between them, for the first time since Erynae had entered, Ryska’s shoulders began to loosen and Erynae stayed there, holding her, as though she could make the walls around them strong enough to keep every shadow of the outside world away.