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August 24 - August 24, 2020
“I’ve been raised knowing my life is not my own, but to be bargained away by my mother, to strengthen Nozva Rozkveta and our people.” Riza nodded. “And you perform your duty with honor and valor.” Gavri bit her lip. “But they… they are just so ugly.”
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about the humans, it is that they can never be trusted, especially when it comes to doing what’s right.”
She’d already promised Papà she wouldn’t. And it really didn’t matter, did it? Her choice didn’t matter, so why would her words? This prince would probably arrive on his mother’s orders just to look her in the mouth and check her gait. A chattel didn’t need to say a word to be useful.
Books had power, the power to defeat hopelessness with escape, ignorance with enlightenment, fear with knowledge.
“Alessandra Ermacora, princess of Silen, I, Veron of Nozva Rozkveta, offer you power”—he rested a hand on his sword pommel—“survival, skill, defense, wisdom, and partnership”—then on his bow, his knives, his shield, the scroll strapped to his belt, and he took her hand—“to harness for your ends or ours, as we walk our lives together from this day forward for as long as the Deep allows.”
“On the night of the Offering, it says to a bride, ‘I am not too proud to serve you. I will never be too proud to serve you. It is my honor and pleasure.’”
“Neither of us wants that tonight, but I don’t mean to close the door on this, either. I want you to know that I’m open to your wishes, and that you shouldn’t fear rejection should you express them to me.”
“But you don’t find me desirable?” Raising his eyebrows, he looked away. She’d asked that directly? Admirable, and… difficult. “You’re intelligent and bold, but we only just met yesterday. I am yours and yours alone, but this… will take some time.”
He’d bowed. Apologized to Bianca. Bianca’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows shot up. So did hers.
“Humans are drawn to ostentation like harpies to anything shiny.”
“No masks. No hoods. You’re distributing food and coin, so let the people associate that with your looks. Smile—” He did, exposing those longer, sharp fangs. “—but maybe not too broadly,” she said,
“I think… I think when terrible things happen, it’s easier to do nothing. I’m sure they knew the likely costs, but they did a hard thing, a brave thing.”
the gap between them was closing, however, someone would have to broach the subject, admit the shift in perception. And it would be him. He’d have to confess his budding attraction to her first. And he would. No hiding. No dishonesty.
It was time, and their discussion had been cut short, but it didn’t matter—he knew. He knew, and he felt the same.
Among a sea of stars, she was the moon. It was as though he hadn’t looked up until now.
He shielded her from the breeze, his shoulders taut. He wanted to meet that coldness with warmth, that loss with comfort, destruction with creation.
She leaned into him, opening her mouth to his, the sweet bloom of a dark red wine on her exploring tongue, slow, sensual. Her breaths warmed his mouth as they fell into rhythm, longing, urging, and by Deep and Darkness, it was all he could do to cup her face, deepen his kiss, meet her tongue’s sensual taking with his own.
“So little,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “No one is ever too little to fight for what they believe in.”
His breath caught. Alessandra Ermacora was his wife, and he would do anything for her sake. And he knew it as clearly as the stars shone above them.
“I don’t blame you for fearing what this marriage would be. Nor even for not wanting it. But did it ever occur to you that, for the good of both our peoples, we might discuss alternate arrangements? That maybe I didn’t feel too differently than you did? Was planning to betray me, to run away without a care for the treaty, really the best course of action? Or just the easiest?”
Her mouth fell open. “But gemstones are—” “Very valuable to humans.” He smiled at her. “They barter timber, leather, food crops, livestock, and other valuable items to us, and in return, they want shiny stones.” She cocked her head. “When you put it like that, we all sound like idiots.” He shrugged happily. “Not all of you, but if the jewelry fits.”
“By the way, what you did in there…” With a shrug, she shook her head. “Now there will be no misunderstanding that my fists are useless.” Gavri grasped her wrist. “Strength isn’t just in your fists. Strength is relying on your knowledge in the face of danger. It’s standing up to a challenge with courage and dignity. Not running away.”
“I want to make love with you, Aless,” he whispered, making her shiver. “I want to know you, as closely as one heart can know another, and I want you to know me.”
“Teach my hands how to touch you, Aless,” he whispered,
“Teach my lips how to kiss you,” he whispered,
“Aless,” he whispered between kisses, “teach me to love you the way you wish to be loved.”
“People might sometimes betray your trust, Veron, and you might lose them. But if you choose not to forgive, you don’t have to worry about losing them… because you’ve already pushed them away. It’s still loss, but of your own making.”
One betrayal did have the power to destroy everything, but pushing someone away was destroying everything with his own hands. He couldn’t predict others’ actions with perfect accuracy, couldn’t account for mistakes or betrayals, but when it came to people he loved, he wanted to be there for them through the bad and the good. When they made mistakes, he wanted to be there to help them, to support them, to save them if he could, instead of isolated, away, alone.
