Page 18 of Esperance

“Compared to Ferradin, I suppose it might be considered that. I just think of it as the warmth of home.”

“Ferradin can be warm,” Amryn said, swiping a quick hand over her hairline. “Thisrivals the Scorched Plains.”

He chuckled. “I suppose it’s a matter of perspective.”

They reached the base of the stairs and turned right, following the directions they’d been given. Other than a handful of guards and servants, they didn’t see anyone else in the long corridor.

Wanting to keep her talking, Carver said, “I miss the ocean, and the sandy beaches of Westmont. What do you miss from home?”

“Everything,” she whispered.

Her melancholy was like a barb against his skin, and he winced. A poor choice of topic on his part, when she was clearly homesick.

She peeked over at him. “I miss the mountains.”

The admission was unexpected after her previous one-word response, but he grasped at it gratefully. “Westmont doesn’t have many mountains, at least not near my home. I remember the first time I traveled with my father and we came across a true mountain range. I was terrified.”

She shot him a look. “Why?”

“I thought it would fall on top of me and crush me flat.” He shrugged. “I was only a child, so it seemed a valid fear at the time.”

The ghost of a smile lifted her lips. “So mountains no longer scare you?”

“I didn’t say that. Frankly, I always feel a little trapped whenever I find myself surrounded by them.” Her smile was proof that she was relaxing around him, but that fact alone wasn’t what kept him talking. He found he enjoyed talking with her—liked coaxing those rare smiles from her. “Mountains also steal the sunlight prematurely, and they block the view of the rest of the world. And have you everclimbedone?”

“Don’t tell me that the emperor’s favored general is afraid of heights,” she said, one eyebrow raised.

He scoffed. “As ifI’mthe one with an issue if I have a rational fear of falling off a cliff and plunging to my death?”

“You know,” she said a bit drolly, “I grew up playing on mountains.”

“Then it’s a blessing from the Divinities that you’re still alive.”

She rolled her eyes at that, but she wore an amused smile. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re overly dramatic?”

“Yes. Just abouteveryone,” he added, making his tone as dramatic as possible.

He didn’t get a full laugh out of her, but she made a sound in her throat that could have been the beginnings of one.

Perhaps charming his wife wouldn’t be as difficult as he’d feared.

He glanced over at her. “Why do you miss the mountains?”

His more serious tone chased away her smile, but she didn’t miss a step as they neared the end of the corridor. “I feel lost without them,” she said, and he was surprised by the honesty in her voice. “They’ve always surrounded me. Given me landmarks. When I’m surrounded by mountains, I feel . . . safe.”

Something she clearly didn’t feel here.

Not that he blamed her. Esperance had already been a place of death, and they’d only been married for a day.

She peeked over at him. “Why do you miss the ocean?”

He shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about it . . . but I suppose I miss everything about it. The sound of it, the smell of it—the way it goes on forever.” The ocean comforted him. Reminded him of better days. Sometimes, in Harvari, he would close his eyes and try to picture it. The salty air, the spray hitting his face, the gritty sand clinging to his bare feet. The glitter of the water.

Sometimes, he could almost imagine the sweat and blood on his skin was water. Only water.

“You miss it because the ocean is home,” she said quietly.

He glanced at her. “And that’s why you miss the mountains.”