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Her whole body was her heartbeat, a cage that barely held her together.
Warm, reluctant pride spread through her chest. Not because he looked at her, but because if felt as if he had actually seen her.
She knew she was beautiful, the way she knew she was a woman, and a princess. It was not something she took pride in, it was something to be used as a tool. Her mother had taught her that. She had also taught her it would be fleeting; that she must have other assets and tools at her disposal when the beauty inevitably faded, or risk losing her belief in herself, which was the only gift she truly had.
he glanced to one of his men to answer something they asked, then back to her, his head tipped forward as he listened, his gaze fixed on hers. Naime looked away. Trouble. A handsome man who knew he was handsome, who knew he’d caught her eyes. It was nothing but trouble.
She made him into a fool without even meaning to. Tareck’s breath rushed out in a soundless laugh. “Your wounded pride is showing. That probably isn’t allowed in Tamar either.”
Magic always had a price, and in this case it was high.
That was the danger of names. They were more effective at removing barriers than even destruction magic.
Attraction was a dangerous spark that could turn the most innocent of things into the kindling of a fire, and then the fuel of a blaze.
“I can shine like dawn, and you bring the peace of dusk.” She pulled her hand away. “Beginnings and endings. That is why there must be balance. To relieve the terrible with the beautiful, to make the beautiful more precious, for the threat of its absence.” She hesitated, her gaze lifting to his, meeting his eyes.
“Let it be for everyone, for Sarkum and Tamar,” she said, “but not for me.” “They need to hear you. I wanted them to listen. I did it for you, because I believe in you.”
“I am balanced for I am broken,” Naime recited, full of sorrow and joy. Did he know the Wheel’s poem? It was as old as magic. “Parts that make a whole,” he murmured, stroking her hair away from her face. “Each joy and sorrow token, paid to mold my soul.”
