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From the moment she learned of their arranged marriage, it hadn’t sat well with her being forced to abandon the option of marrying someone of her choice. However, there was comfort in Solaris that Naia hadn’t realized until she was dressed down in her underthings in bed with him.

Through the years, Naia had been forced to spend time with Solaris. A stroll through the courtyard, sitting together during feasts. Some days, he’d seek her out on his own. Find her in the library during her studies and interrupt her concentration with conversation. Naia would glare at him, and he would respond by tipping up the book in her hand to read the title. And somewhere along the years, she came to enjoy his company.

She’d gush over all the places she craved to explore. Smiling broadly, shoving a book in his face, raving on about geographical locations in the Mortal Land, places covered in ice and landscapes crowded with dense greenery stretching up into mountains skimming the clouds.

“Yeah, yeah,” Solaris would say, trying to downgrade her excitement in assurance. “You’re not missing much.”

But he always listened to her.

Naia couldn’t recall when she began teasing him for his vehement hatred of the ocean, or what convinced her to spill parts of herself to him. Mostly rants about Mira, or the anxiety plaguing her from trying to figure out her title.

Solaris was a light in a dark room; a soft melody amongst a loud crowd; long walks along the river where he would ask her what her favorite foods were; sneaking into the kitchens and stealing freshly baked biscuits; squealing as they ran through the courtyard before the kitchen maids discovered the absence of the pastries; wide smiles and warm eyes; pretty words and the slipping of his fingers between hers.

As he laid beside her, content, without a single need to uphold their mothers’ order, the question sat in the forefront of her mind, but she could not bring herself to ask it.

Do you love me?

Some days, she saw sightings of it. A lilting adoration he regarded her with as she rambled about whatever sweet treat she was eating, how he would surprise her with a basket of sourdough loaves when visiting Kaimana, or from the smile consuming his face when she laughed.

For the first time since learning of their arrangement, she dared to fantasize what it would be like to be his wife—adventures in the Mortal Land, food from all over the world, becoming parents together.

If she were to fully give her heart to Solaris, she was certain he would treasure it.

However, she could not deny the shred of hesitation she felt at the thought of doing so.

8

HOLLOW CITY

The Present

Naia tucked a piece of silver strand behind her ear and cleared her throat. She did not know what to say.

It was the first quiet moment between her and Ronin since rushing to leave the island. The shock and panic of Solaris finding her tangled in the pit of her stomach through the entire ferry ride across the bay and as they waited in line for a train ticket. She barely registered Ronin’s guidance, her eyes too busy scanning every face surrounding them.

Like a two-year-old, she found herself captivated by the smallest of things. Vehicles and trains hadn’t been invented when Naia first emerged on mortal soil.

When they first boarded, she tried to hide her awe-struck behavior as they passed down the aisles of the passengers sitting neck and neck. She followed Ronin to the next train car filled with individual little nooks, isolated from the others.

Their nook held the scent of leather, the color of a pecan, and a large window to gaze out of.

The constant mix of fascination and worry left her mentally exhausted.

“Wouldn’t it have been faster for us to travel by quicker transportation?” The question left her in an attempt to strike up conversation. Anything to fixate on beside her thoughts.

Not that the train wasn’t traveling at a great speed. Public transportation unsettled her greatly. They were out in the open, exposed for Solaris to appear at any moment.

“My car is at the station, about four hours from the city.” Across from her, Ronin lowered his canned beverage to answer her. “I take the train to the ferry when I travel to and from the island.”

He rested casually in his seat, long legs spread, like a cat lounging in its tree, his expression so at ease that it grated on Naia’s nerves.

Do you know how close you were to death earlier? She wanted to snap at him.

He could’ve become a charred pile of flesh in less than a second. Though Naia couldn’t fathom Solaris killing a mortal, their praises meant too much to him.

Naia pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth to not bite Ronin’s head off, because doing so would ultimately confess to her situation. If Ronin knew the dangers chasing her, he would no doubt abandon her. And as much as Naia’s pride loathed to admit, Ronin leading the way into Hollow City made her life abundantly easier.

“I suppose that makes sense,” she murmured.