Page 100
He gave me a faint smile. “Yes. But we are still allies. This proves such a thing to any of our people who mightdoubt the strength of that alliance.”
Slowly, I took the amulet, pulling it over my head, where it pulsed warmly.
“Fine.”
Conreth’s smile widened at my curt tone.
Asinia walked past, her expression unreadable. I watched her. Everyone Prisca cared about was mine now too. That had been the case for a while now, but today, it felt even more important.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I said.
Conreth replied, but I was already striding away, grabbing Asinia’s hand.
ASINIA
A warm hand clasped mine. For a moment, my heart leaped.
But it wasn’t Demos.
“Are you happy, Asinia?” Lorian guided me back toward the musicians, seamlessly transitioning me from the direction I’d wanted to travel to the direction he chose.
He was waiting for me to reply. This seemed like an unusual conversation for Lorian’s wedding day. Still, I supposed we were all leaving tomorrow. We no longer had the luxury of waiting for the right time. For anything.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Prisca considers you to be her sister. That makes you mine as well.”
Despite the strangeness of this conversation, I smiled. “Don’t you have enough people to manage, Lorian?”
From the arrogant arch of one eyebrow, he likely believed there were no limits to the people he could manage. I laughed.
Lorian spun me, but he was still waiting. “I’m… I…I feel like happy isn’t the right word. I feel so many emotions right now, all of them constantly warring within me. On days like today, a word likehappyseems almost…tepid. What I feel today is a kind of defiant joy. It’s a feeling that lies. A feeling that whispers that everything is going to work out. Because how could it not?” I waved my hand to encompass the area where everyone was dancing.
Both of us turned to watch the others.
Prisca was beaming up at Rythos—right before Demos and Tibris cut in—one on each side—and swayed with her to the music. Until Demos said something that made all three of them howl with laughter. Nearby, Daharak and Madinia were drinking copious amounts of wine and…cackling.
One of Daharak’s pirates had dragged Marth toward the dancing, and he peered down at her as she gave him a bawdy wink.
Rythos had joined Galon, and together, they watched Marth with wide smirks on their faces. Everywhere, fae and hybrids and humans danced and ate and laughed together—a glimpse of what the future could look like if we won this war.
“Today, we’re creating memories,” I said around the lump in my throat. “Memories we can hide away and cherish. Memories we can take out and examine as wemarch toward battle. Memories that might briefly keep us warm on the loneliest, coldest nights if we lose all of this.” Lorian’s gaze burrowed into me, and I shrugged self-consciously. “I’ve heard… I’ve heard that when you die, your memories make the dying a little easier. That those memories play through your mind and give you some comfort. If that’s true, and the fates decide it is my time, I hope those memories include this day.” I waved my hand again, before moving it back to Lorian’s shoulder.
He let out a hum, but it didn’t sound like agreement.
“When you… Did you…”
His mouth twitched. “When I died, did I see my memories?”
My face flamed. “Right. Prisca turned back time. So you wouldn’t remember.”
“That’s not entirely true.” Amusement flickered through his eyes, and I realized my mouth had fallen open.
“What happened?” I breathed.
His expression turned serious. “One moment, Prisca was running toward me, and then my vision turned white. I caught sight of Cavis’s face, briefly. But it was immediately followed by Prisca. She was all I saw. All I wanted to see. And then the next thing I knew, we were in the water. I have no recollection of the dying itself. But I know I felt regret. So much regret.” He paused, his brows lowering. “I think that has to be the worst part about dying. Leaving the people you love and regretting.”
It was the most Lorian had ever said to me, and I considered his words. He turned us again, his gaze flicking behind me and firing with that possessive light. I didn’t need to glance over my shoulder to know who hewas looking at.
Slowly, I took the amulet, pulling it over my head, where it pulsed warmly.
“Fine.”
Conreth’s smile widened at my curt tone.
Asinia walked past, her expression unreadable. I watched her. Everyone Prisca cared about was mine now too. That had been the case for a while now, but today, it felt even more important.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I said.
Conreth replied, but I was already striding away, grabbing Asinia’s hand.
ASINIA
A warm hand clasped mine. For a moment, my heart leaped.
But it wasn’t Demos.
“Are you happy, Asinia?” Lorian guided me back toward the musicians, seamlessly transitioning me from the direction I’d wanted to travel to the direction he chose.
He was waiting for me to reply. This seemed like an unusual conversation for Lorian’s wedding day. Still, I supposed we were all leaving tomorrow. We no longer had the luxury of waiting for the right time. For anything.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Prisca considers you to be her sister. That makes you mine as well.”
Despite the strangeness of this conversation, I smiled. “Don’t you have enough people to manage, Lorian?”
From the arrogant arch of one eyebrow, he likely believed there were no limits to the people he could manage. I laughed.
Lorian spun me, but he was still waiting. “I’m… I…I feel like happy isn’t the right word. I feel so many emotions right now, all of them constantly warring within me. On days like today, a word likehappyseems almost…tepid. What I feel today is a kind of defiant joy. It’s a feeling that lies. A feeling that whispers that everything is going to work out. Because how could it not?” I waved my hand to encompass the area where everyone was dancing.
Both of us turned to watch the others.
Prisca was beaming up at Rythos—right before Demos and Tibris cut in—one on each side—and swayed with her to the music. Until Demos said something that made all three of them howl with laughter. Nearby, Daharak and Madinia were drinking copious amounts of wine and…cackling.
One of Daharak’s pirates had dragged Marth toward the dancing, and he peered down at her as she gave him a bawdy wink.
Rythos had joined Galon, and together, they watched Marth with wide smirks on their faces. Everywhere, fae and hybrids and humans danced and ate and laughed together—a glimpse of what the future could look like if we won this war.
“Today, we’re creating memories,” I said around the lump in my throat. “Memories we can hide away and cherish. Memories we can take out and examine as wemarch toward battle. Memories that might briefly keep us warm on the loneliest, coldest nights if we lose all of this.” Lorian’s gaze burrowed into me, and I shrugged self-consciously. “I’ve heard… I’ve heard that when you die, your memories make the dying a little easier. That those memories play through your mind and give you some comfort. If that’s true, and the fates decide it is my time, I hope those memories include this day.” I waved my hand again, before moving it back to Lorian’s shoulder.
He let out a hum, but it didn’t sound like agreement.
“When you… Did you…”
His mouth twitched. “When I died, did I see my memories?”
My face flamed. “Right. Prisca turned back time. So you wouldn’t remember.”
“That’s not entirely true.” Amusement flickered through his eyes, and I realized my mouth had fallen open.
“What happened?” I breathed.
His expression turned serious. “One moment, Prisca was running toward me, and then my vision turned white. I caught sight of Cavis’s face, briefly. But it was immediately followed by Prisca. She was all I saw. All I wanted to see. And then the next thing I knew, we were in the water. I have no recollection of the dying itself. But I know I felt regret. So much regret.” He paused, his brows lowering. “I think that has to be the worst part about dying. Leaving the people you love and regretting.”
It was the most Lorian had ever said to me, and I considered his words. He turned us again, his gaze flicking behind me and firing with that possessive light. I didn’t need to glance over my shoulder to know who hewas looking at.
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