She wondered why the question had put him off balance. Perhaps, if they’d been together a long time, Treven neared retirement and Athan didn’t want to think about losing his friend. ‘How long do mules live?’, she thought, but didn’t dare ask, knowing it was for a far shorter time than humans. She wondered what that might feel like, to become so connected to another living being you feared losing them. When Athan’s distracted gaze settled back on her, she thought she may have an answer.
“Dnara,” he started unexpectedly then stopped again, words left unspoken with a million unexpressed thoughts swimming in his eyes.
It unsettled her heart, these unspoken things that seemed to be growing between them like an open field slowly giving way to forest. She feared losing him amongst the trees in a dark grove she never wanted to step foot in again. Her hand touched his, begging him to stay with her in the open field under an unblocked view of the stars.
“What is it?” she asked, squeezing his hand.
He continued to hesitate but took her hand into both of his and squeezed it back. After closing his eyes through a deep breath, he spoke. “There’s... There’s something I would like to speak with you about.”
When his eyes reopened, she did not understand what she saw within them. Fear skittered up her arms and the wind went still. Yes, she did know what it felt like, to be afraid of losing her connection to someone.
She offered a promise with the hope of easing his unsettled expression. “If you’re worried you’ll be stuck traveling alone with Treven, I’ve already agreed to go with you, remember? That hasn’t changed.”
His mouth opened around words waiting to be spoken then closed back around them. A thought crossed his gaze, wrinkling his brow and highlighting the freckles living there. Another bell tolled from the courtyard and he cast his gaze to the window. When his eyes returned to her, he had replaced uncertainty with a smile.
“I have plans to leave tomorrow morning,” he said. “I hope that’s not too soon?”
“It’s unexpected,” she hesitated. “But, you have put your livelihood on hold for me.” And she had inconvenienced his life enough. If he had a reason to leave Lee’s Mill so suddenly, then she wouldn’t fall back on her promise. “Yes, tomorrow morning would be fine.”
As she spoke, the bell tolled again, this time in a succession of joyful notes. “But,” she said through the melody. “Can we...” As soon as she began asking the question, her confidence faded for unknown reasons, trapped behind an unfamiliar barrier of embarrassment and anxiety at what his answer may be.
“What is it?” he asked, concern reappearing in his eyes.
Now, she felt foolish on top of the inexplicable embarrassment. After a deep breath, she threw worry to the wind and made her request. “Can we go to the festival tonight?”
Athan let out a relieved chuckle. “Yes, of course. Actually, I insist. It’ll be your first, right?”
“Yes. At least, the first I can remember.” Her brow narrowed as she attempted to bring memories to the surface, but the dark barrier shielding them would not give way. What had come before had not mattered during her years in the tower, so why should it matter now? No, she would not dwell on the forgotten. She would walk forward, out of the shadow. With Athan, she would create new memories to cherish.
Which, she couldn’t very well do sitting in bed. Moving the covers aside, the cool air tickled her legs and she realized suddenly she’d been laying there this whole time in naught but her underdress. Practical as it was, it revealed nothing, but that did not diminish her embarrassment. She’d lived for so long in nothing but a slave’s simple shiv and apron. It seemed silly that the lack of her overdress now caused her to feel exposed, but in Athan’s presence, it did. She had only a second of horror to consider the messy state her hair must be in before realizing it was all a futile and belated concern.
She closed the blanket tightly around her, barely fighting the urge to pull it up over her head. “I should get ready, then.”
“Right... Right!” Athan caught on, clearing his throat and looking away. “We feared another fever,” he explained. “So, two attendants... women... saw to your undressing. Your dress and hair clips are there, on the dresser. I’ll ask to have a washbasin brought up for you.” Athan stood and made his way to the door. “And, I’ll wait just outside, in the hallway.”
“Thank you.”
He opened the door but hesitated at the threshold. His shoulders rose and fell in two breaths before he glanced back to her. “There is still something I would like to speak with you about, later, after we enjoy the festival, perhaps?”
Whatever it was, it obviously troubled him a great deal. She wished only to remove the burden from his shoulders, and made a silent promise to help him carry whatever worry weighed him down. “All right,” she said and found comfort in the return of his smile before he left the room.
22
If possible, the temple felt even quieter as Athan led Dnara down a set of stairs which gave passing glimpses of an empty courtyard below through small, arched windows. Elder Rellius and Mayor Whitehall had led the procession out of the courtyard towards the city center, Faedra’s chalice carried at the front, like the head of an undulating snake of people weaving its way through the streets. Not that she’d ever seen a snake outside of one illustrated in a book, but she imagined it would look like the lines of people faithfully following wherever the chalice led them.
The irony was not lost on her as she diligently followed Athan down to the last
