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“Which is what?” Sorin asked slowly.

“That you all think I’m a princess and that’s why you’re so fussy,” she answered with a half smile.

“Youarea princess,” he said, resuming his soothing stroking on her face.

“I think you might be mine though,” she said, as sleep finally overtook her.

“Your what?” she heard him press, but sleep pulled her under before she could reply.

CHAPTER 22

SCARLETT

Scarlett wandered along the banks of the Tana River in the gardens behind the palace. The thin dusting of snow they’d gotten that morning had melted in the afternoon sun, and the evening chill settled over her bones. She drew her cloak tighter around herself. It was thin, but the only thing she could find so it would have to do, she supposed. She had left a note for the others that she would not be at dinner this evening. She just needed some time to…

She didn’t know what she needed time for. She had awoken that morning feeling tired and empty. It had been nearly two weeks since the courtyard dramatics. It had taken five days before Sorin had finally relented and allowed Eliza to begin training her in the mornings. Scarlett flexed and rolled her wrist on the arm that had been broken under her cloak. While it had healed well enough under Beatrix’s care, it was still sore after a day of wielding weapons and practicing combat moves.

Eliza had seemed to sense something amiss this morning during their training session. Scarlett had known she was being sloppy and making careless mistakes, but Eliza hadn’t said a word about it. In fact, she had backed off on her own maneuvers.

And had apparently reported such to Sorin because when he came to take her to the Courtyard for their afternoon magic training, he had looked her over carefully before asking too casually how she was doing. She hadn’t been able to focus there either. He had ended their time together earlier than normal and asked to walk back to the palace with her rather than portal, but she had declined. When they’d gotten back to their rooms, she had gone straight to the bathing room, shutting the door behind her. She hadn’t bathed, though. She had waited until she’d heard him leave to have his usual afternoon briefing with his Inner Court. Then she’d left her note, grabbed a cloak and somehow found herself walking in the cold evening air.

Her thoughts were everywhere today. Cassius. Nuri. The orphans. And memories she worked so hard to keep shoved down seemed to be clawing their way to the surface. Not just Juliette and Mikale, but memories of punishments from the Assassin Lord and images of pain she’d inflicted upon her assignments.

All of it pressed in on her today. Cyrus had said it had taken time to find his way out of the dark. That the stars were always worth fighting for. And she had been trying. Every day she had been fighting through the unending and relentless grief and panic and guilt that crashed upon her. And today she awoke not feeling like she had any fight left in her.

Today she awoke and felt utterly and completely empty.

Scarlett hadn’t realized she’d stopped beside the river. Her hands rubbed at her arms as she stared across it to the mountains towering in the distance.

She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there when she felt the pulse of heat behind her. How he had found her, she didn’t know, but she sighed at the sound of his boots on the earth. She didn’t even bother to look over her shoulder at him when she said, “I do not want company, nor do I wish to speak right now, Sorin.”

“I did not come to do either of those two things, only to bring you these.” She couldn’t decipher the emotions in his voice when she turned to face him. A heavy cloak was wrapped around his own shoulders, and his breath was visible as he watched her, his face solemn.He held a bundle of fabric in his arms, and Scarlett arched a brow at him in question.

“It’s freezing out, Scarlett,” he said quietly, taking a small step towards her. “I know it gets far colder here than it does in Baylorin, and it’s not even technically winter yet.” He picked up something off the top of the bundle and held them up. A pair of gloves. She didn’t say anything, just glanced at the remaining item in his arms. “A fur-lined cloak,” he said by way of explanation.

She said nothing as she turned back to face the river once more, and she felt him come up beside her. He handed the gloves over, and she silently slid them on. The insides were fur-lined too, and her frozen fingers burned at the sudden warmth.

“Hold this,” he instructed, holding out the other cloak to her. She obeyed, and he quickly unclasped the thin cloak she currently wore and slung it over his shoulder. He reached wordlessly for the thicker one, unfolding it and wrapping it around her shoulders. His eyes came to hers as he quickly did up the buttons, and she couldn’t help but think of the short journey here when he’d often done the same.

She’d felt like this at that time, too. Lost. Unrelenting grief. Unyielding pain.

A flood of heat wrapped around her, and she knew it was his magic as he reached over her shoulder and pulled up the hood for her.

“Do you need anything else?” he finally asked softly.

Yes? No? She wanted to feel something, anything, but the emptiness beckoned. She knew she could find a short reprieve at his hands physically, but she’d still be left with…this. These broken pieces of herself.

Pieces he’d contributed to shattering.

The thought had her turning from him and continuing to walk along the river without a word.

She rounded a small bend, and the path was so covered by trees, the sun had not reached these parts. The snow that had been falling the last few days had not melted, but had accumulated. She stopped at the edge, stooping and scooping up a handful of the cold flakes.She wanted to cry, but tears would not come. She didn’t have it in her to rage or scream or do anything really. She scooped up another handful of snow, letting it drift back to the ground.

“It’s okay, you know.” His soft voice floated down to her, but she didn’t look up at him. There were several moments of silence. She had stilled, not knowing where he was going with this. The soft crunch of footsteps sounded, and then he was stooping down beside her. “It is okay to have hard days, Scarlett.” His tone was impossibly tender. “It is okay if some days the only thing you manage to do is survive. That is okay.”

At those words, she finally turned to him. Eyes of gold, full of concern and understanding and an emotion she wasn’t ready to acknowledge, met her own. “I feel like all I’ve been doing is surviving, Sorin,” she whispered. “I don’t want to just survive any more. I want tolive. I want to feel something other than…this.”

Scarlett tipped her hand, dumping the snow and watching it fall back to the mound. Sorin was quiet beside her for another long moment. “The things you have experienced in your short life,” he paused, as if trying to find the words. “Those are things that will get easier to live with over time, but they are memories that you will still carry with you forever. They are memories that will still sneak up on you at the oddest times, when you are not expecting it.”