Page 95 of Embrace the Serpent
I was rising beyond myself.
I shivered as he drew my hair over my shoulder, as he unclasped my dress. Our clothes pooled at our feet. I didn’t hide from him.
He wore no illusion. And he shivered at my touch.
This is real.
My body whispered it each time his skin grazed mine, each time I tasted his lips.
Until even the ghost in me was convinced.
Sunlight seeped in through my eyelids, chasing away the last of my dream. It slipped through the cracks in my thoughts and sank back to wherever it was that dreams hid from the waking world.
My cheek was pressed against soft fabric, but it was warm, and it rose and fell in time with the sound of soft breathing. I froze, coming awake all at once.
I looked up into Rane’s true face, all aglow in the light of day. Locks of silver hair splayed across his shoulders, his brow was smooth and untroubled, his lips soft and just barely parted. Thetips of his fangs were just visible. He was, I realized with no small surprise, rather cute.
I shifted, and the arm around me tightened, tucking me against his side. My face was warm, and I pressed it back into his chest, feeling the fabric of his shirt, and beneath, the firm, reassuring solidity of his body. I lowered my ear to his chest, listening for a heart that would never beat.
I felt a strange new peace. I had always been running, always trying to survive. I had never before had someone to protect, and it made me feel different. Stronger.
Golden light filtered through the windows, catching on dust particles. The lake glittered with sunlight, and trembling reflections danced across the ceiling and walls.
Movement at the door caught my eye. Grimney, sneaking in on tiptoes. He climbed up the woodwork and perched on the foot of the bed.
He glanced meaningfully between Rane and me, then wiggled his stone eyebrows.
I shut my eyes and pretended I hadn’t seen him. When I peeked to see if he had gone, he met my gaze, grinning delightedly, and mimed rocking a baby in his arms.
I groaned and threw a pillow in his direction.
Rane shifted under me, his eyes opening. The gentleness in his expression stole my breath, and then I saw the change as he remembered the cracked heartstone.
“Give me some time,” I said.
“You said it could not be fixed.”
“And you said I’m the best jewelsmith in the Empire,” I said. “I’ll find another way.”
His gaze softened as he chose to put his trust in me.
It felt not like a burden, but like a soft, glimmering thing, something to light the way. It buoyed me as I scarfed down a breakfast and gathered tools, as we descended down into the submerged levels of the palace.
I was prepared with several lanterns, a pad to make drawings, my jewelsmith’s spectacles and tools. Grimney had come along, to keep me company or to tease me, I wasn’t sure.
Rane hovered as I set up. “Are you sure you don’t need me?”
Over breakfast, his huntsmen had whispered reports into his ear, and a half dozen people had quite nearly begged for his time. I said, “Not for this.”
“I can cancel my meetings,” he said. “This is more important.”
“Go on,” I insisted. “I’ll be fine.”
He murmured something else, but the world had already faded for me, the way it did when my work drew me in.
The heartstone glimmered in the light of three lanterns, its fractures unmissable. Could I build something, a cage of sorts, to keep the jewel from shattering and falling apart? I talked it over with Grimney, who mostly shrugged, but hearing my thoughts out loud helped. I drew a dozen designs for the cage, and as I did, a flaw in the idea became apparent. The heartstone was under so much pressure, that asking anything more of it—even asking it not to shatter—would only shatter it more quickly. The only thing was to lessen the pressure, somehow.
For hours, I studied the heartstone, drawing every fragment of an idea that came to me.
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