His door is cracked open, light spilling through it into the hall. Navi doesn’t stand guard outside as she usually does, and I wonder why. I slip through the cracked door and close it softly behind me. Altair’s back is to me as he bends over a heavy wooden table in the center of the room. I admire him, his muscles shifting beneath the long-sleeved tunic he wears.
“Did you get anything to eat?” He asks, twisting to look at me.
I bite my lip under his hazel gaze. “No.”
He gestures for me to come closer. “Good, I had some food brought up for us.”
“I thought you said no dinner?” I cock a brow, moving to his side.
The air between us is warm. My elbow grazes his arm and his eyes slip across my face with an expression I can’t read. “You truly are never satisfied, are you?” He asks, though a smile plays across his lips.
“I could be,” I say defensively, perusing the food spread across the table. I pluck a sweet bun from one of the plates. “What are you doing?”
He leans to the side so I can see the map laid out in front of him. “Looking at my kingdom. My home.”
His voice carries a melancholy edge to it. “Saying goodbye to it already?” I ask, keeping my voice soft.
“Just in case,” he whispers. He traces a river with an elegant finger.
“Will you die if I don’t break the curse?” We’ve never discussed the curse much. I never thought it would end in anything sinister, but after seeing Maaz—I wonder if I was wrong.
He nods. “I will. And so will my people.”
“Everyone?” My voice cracks.
Altair’s hazel eyes bore into me. “I spent hundreds of years looking for you, Verity.”
“Altair.” I drop his gaze, a feeling of anguish washing over me.
I wander to the balcony, brows furrowed. I stare out at Desmarais beneath us, the city that stretches from the cliff faces below to the sea in the distance. The city lights glimmer in the darkness, some soft music reaches my ears from below. It isn’t nearly as vibrant as it was when I first saw it. There’s a gloom that hangs over it now.
“All those people,” I murmur. “Maaz would kill them all. Why?”
Altair makes a choking sound, and I whirl to face him. He lifts his hands, gesturing for me to stay back. “My hands are tied,” he croaks out.
“I won’t ask any more questions,” I say hurriedly, face crumpled with worry.
He’s silent for a moment, lips twisting in sorrow and frustration. He comes back to himself and stands tall, straightening his tunic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t ask you to come tonight to pass my burden to you. Or sadden you.”
“Why did you ask me to come tonight?” I move to the table and trail a finger over the gleaming wood.
“I’m curious about you,” he says simply.
“Curious?” I stop by his side, staring up at him.
His eyes gleam as he meets my gaze and his nostrils flare. “Why did you come back?”
“We can’t talk about the curse, remember?” I smirk. “Ask me something else.”
“Ah, this game,” he says softly.
“This game,” I echo, curling into an arm chair by the fireplace.
He joins me, slinging an ankle over his knee. He looks thoughtfully at me, a finger tapping his arm rest. “What did you do before I brought you here?”
A laugh bursts from my lips. “I was a librarian at an inner-city high school. I helped students do research and I kept the library in order.”
“That explains your love for reading,” he muses.
“My turn.” I shift, tucking my legs beneath me and leaning towards him. “Tell me about your parents.”
“That’s not a question.” Altair smirks.
“Tell me anyway,” I say, crumpling my brows. “Please.”
Altair shudders dramatically. “Your pleading is rather unsightly.”
I glower at him. “Unsightly?”
“I’m teasing,” he reassures me. “Though it doesn’t suit you. It doesn’t suit you at all.”
I purse my lips, wondering what he really means. “Are you going to tell me or not?”
“So demanding,” he huffs. He leans forward, the light of the fire illuminating his handsome features. “There isn’t much to tell. My mother was arranged to marry my father when they were young, around six hundred years old. They ruled together for almost three thousand years before they died on their way to a neighboring kingdom. The ship was caught in a storm and they drowned. Their bodies were never found. I took the throne then, but I was young and rash. That’s when Maaz came.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, searching his eyes. I find little sorrow in them.
He sniffs, leaning back. “It was a long time ago.”
“Still.” I cock my head. “I can imagine that losing a parent is hard. Let alone two.”
Altair’s lip curls and I feel a flash of fear. “I’ve never felt comfortable with pity.”
My brows twitch together, and I press my lips into a thin, angry line. “When someone offers their condolences, it isn’t pity, Altair. It’s sympathy. And you should get used to pity. Because if the curse takes you, there will be no one left to pity you but me.”
As soon as the words leave my lips, I feel a wave of guilt and shame. Altair’s sneer fades away as the silence draws out between us. I close my eyes, cursing myself for speaking harshly. I don’t like being snapped at for trying to be kind, but that doesn’t mean I can be cruel. Especially not to Altair. Because whether I like it or not, I feel an irresistible urge to be near him. To be close in more than just the physical sense.
I open my eyes, expecting to find Altair
