“We should all get some rest,” the old Bloodbane intones, waddling towards her tent. “It will be a tough journey tomorrow.”
Erzur purses her lips, adjusting her cloak. “I don’t take orders from the likes of you.”
“It was merely a suggestion,” the old Bloodbane says, smiling.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at Erzur, grinding my teeth silently instead. The old witch disappears into her tent and slowly the Fae around the fireplace drift away. I rise, dusting off my trousers and head towards the perimeter to keep watch for the night. During the day as we travelled, we saw no signs of life out here, but I’m not taking any chances – not with Verity in the camp.
I take up a position near the dusty columns and lean against one. I sigh, shoulders sagging. I keep up the facade that I’m the confident, strong King, but I feel sapped and useless. I couldn’t have won the war against Sadal without Moritz, Haru, or Erzur. I was useless without them, without Verity. I drag a hand over my jaw, groaning. How can I be this man any longer? Perhaps it’s best if I let the curse consume me. Perhaps Alnembra would be better under new leadership. After all, what I have brought my people beyond stagnation and now death?
The night looms on, and the fire dies to embers behind me. I turn my head to the stars; the night sky is lit brilliantly with millions of twinkling lights suspended overhead. They almost outshine the moon. I hear a soft scuff behind me and turn sharply, searching for the source of the noise. Across the fire, I see Verity. She’s sitting on the boulder, her knees pulled up to her chest. My heart pounds at the sight of her, draped in the silver, milky light of the moon.
I press my lips into a thin line, debating whether or not I should approach her. She may not want me to intrude. The hesitation reminds me of the early days of Verity’s capture. Gods, it seems like a lifetime ago. I should forget her, let her move on from me. It will help me too, to separate my life from hers. But I can’t. I feel it in my gut, a deep need to be at her side. It’s not something that will ever go away.
Silently, I walk towards her, circling the camp so I don’t disturb the other travelers. If she notices me coming, she doesn’t show it. I settle next to her, the chill of the boulder seeping through my clothes. She slips her eyes towards me, but I can’t read them in the darkness. My heart swells in my chest as my shoulder grazes hers and I feel a small shock of electricity.
“Do you plan to keep watch all night?” She whispers, turning her gaze back to the stars. “Or will someone relieve you?”
“I just want to make sure you’re safe,” I say softly. I watch her profile and notice a slight flush to her porcelain cheeks.
“And everyone else.” She bites her bottom lip. I don’t answer, I merely smile at her even though her eyes are on the sky. She sighs, shifting, and I notice goosebumps on her skin. “The stars are different here than in the human world.”
“I’ve heard of the Milky Way,” I say, thinking of the mess of stars that spills over the human sky.
“You could never really see it in the city,” she murmurs.
I notice the melancholy look in her eyes and feel a hint of sorrow. “I’m sorry,” I say, almost under my breath. I don’t know what else to say.
Verity is silent for a moment before she finally looks at me. Her eyes are glazed with silver tears that refuse to fall. My heart clenches painfully at the sight and I reach for her instinctively. She doesn’t push me away when I cup her cheek in my hand and brush my thumb over her soft skin.
“I just don’t understand, Altair,” she says, sounding broken. “How could I have lived for a thousand years? Where are my memories of it? What about my parents?”
“I’m sorry,” I say again, edging closer to her.
She leans into me, her forehead resting on my shoulder. “I just want to know the truth.” She sounds broken, defeated, and hurt.
I can’t help myself as I wrap my arms around her slight frame and bundle her into my lap. She curls into me, her shoulders trembling as the tears finally fall. I hold her, my heart pounding wildly. I feel elated that she trusts me with this, that she’s here in my arms and not someone else’s. But I feel physically pained by her sorrow. It cuts me like a knife. I brush my fingers through her tangled braid and down the gentle curve of her back, cooing softly.
“Have you spoken to Cleo?” I ask hesitantly when Verity is a little more settled.
“How can I?” She hiccups lightly. “She’s just some witch who claims to be my mother. She practically gave me to Sadal.”
I don’t correct her. Her heart is in too much pain for that. So I tighten my arms around her, feeling as if my heart will burst. She quiets and looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes. I freeze, suddenly unsure. Every part of me is eager for her, to claim her lips and her entire being; to make her mine once again.
In the end, it’s Verity who makes the choice for me. She leans up, stretching to reach my lips and kisses
