Page 108 of The Ashes and the Star-Cursed King

Her face darkened.

“It was hard,” she said. “I would have died if Raihn hadn’t found me.”

“He saved you.”

That shadow parted, just enough to let a little sad smile slip through. “Mhm. He saved me. I don’t really remember it. One minute I’m very sick in the middle of the desert, and I’m—” Her expression shuttered, and she cut herself off. “Then I’m waking up in some shitty inn with a giant, grumpy stranger. That, let me tell you, was a hell of a confusing moment.”

I could imagine.

“You were a priestess,” I said carefully. “Right?”

The smile faded. She tugged at her sleeve again and didn’t say anything for a long, long moment.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “That was—”

“No. No, it’s fine.” She shook her head, as if pulling herself from her haze. “Yes. I was. A priestess of Atroxus. It’s just… it’s hard for me to talk about, sometimes.” She gave me another weak smile. “Hypocritical of me, right?”

“No,” I said. “It isn’t.”

“Magic is… I know some people think it’s just another discipline, but I think it lives close to our hearts. I think it draws right from our souls. Mine has always been close to me. And I—” Her jaw snapped closed, eyes shining.

“It’s alright,” I said quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

It was downright painful to see Mische on the verge of tears.

But she laughed and wiped her face with the back of her hand.

“This is what I mean, Oraya,” she said. “We’ve all got our reckoning. My Turning wasn’t my choice, and it broke me. Raihn’s was his, and maybe it broke him even more. Maybe the others don’t let you see the shards. Maybe they don’t show you the things they mourn. Doesn’t mean it’s not there. Doesn’t mean they don’t feel it. And your father—”

Her face went serious now, fiery-fierce. Her hand fell to mine, clutching tight. “Your father, Oraya, felt all those things, too. He was just as broken as the rest of us, and he was so determined not to acknowledge it that he flayed you with those sharp edges and then berated you for having skin instead of steel.”

My throat was tight. Grief and fury surged up it before I could stop myself.

“Don’t talk about him that way,” I said. But my words were weak and pleading.

Mische just looked at me sadly. “You and Raihn are always trying to be like them,” she said. “I don’t understand it. You’re better than him. Don’t forget that, Oraya. Embrace it.”

She was wrong.

But she didn’t give me time to tell her so before she threw her arms around me in a brief, fierce hug. “We’ll try again tomorrow,” she said, released me, and strode back into the house without another word.

* * *

Days passed.Our routine continued. Ketura arrived from Lahor, tired and battle-weary. She told us that the city had fallen into significant disarray with Evelaena dead, and it had taken some time to get things under control there.

“It was already in significant disarray,” Mische pointed out, which was very true, and I shuddered to think of how much worse it could have gotten.

Ketura added another teacher to my daily training routine, teaching me how to appear and disappear my wings, now that they were healed enough. She, at least, provided a more familiar instruction compared to Mische’s cheerful style—harsh, barked commands that made me appreciate just how brutal of a commander she must be to her soldiers. Still, she was effective—a week later, and I was semi-reliably able to conjure and spirit away my wings on command.

But uneventful as this time was, day by day, the signs of Mische’s unease slowly grew more obvious. I’d often catch her staring out the window, a little wrinkle between her eyebrows, rubbing the scars on her wrists.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel it too. It was too quiet, like we were trapped behind glass, frozen in artificial tranquility, while darkness encroached on the horizon.

One day, when Mische finished tending to the much-improved wounds on my wings, I said, “I think it’s time for us to go back to Sivrinaj.”

She paused before answering, “Raihn told us to wait until he sent for us.”

I scoffed. “And have you heard from him?”

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