Page 211 of The Ashes and the Star-Cursed King

I was actuallyalive.

As pieces of the battle came back to me—Simon’s monstrous face leaning over me—that seemed like a fucking miracle.

My eyes focused. I was in a tiny bedroom, lying in an old, beaten-down bed, covered with a quilt that was obviously homemade. Before me was a closed, slightly crooked wooden door, with a little wooden chair sitting beside it.

And in that chair—that tiny, rickety chair, comically overflowing it—was Raihn.

He snored slightly, his head tipped back against the wall, skewed at a painful-looking angle. His arms were crossed over his chest. He wore plain cotton clothes that looked within one sneeze of bursting open at the seams. Dark, dried bloodstains marred the cream fabric, and his forearms were wound in tight bandages.

My eyes prickled. I stared at him, the image growing slowly blurry. My chest was so tight. I didn’t think it had anything to do with my injuries.

I sniffed, and Raihn had been sleeping so lightly that that sound was enough to send him jerking awake with comical verve, nearly throwing himself off the chair as he reached for the sword that wasn’t there.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. The sound was horrible—a gasping rasp.

Raihn barely managed to right himself. Then his gaze fell to me.

He went utterly still.

And then, with a single swift movement, he was on his knees beside my bed, hands cradling my face like he wanted to make sure I was real.

You’re alive,I wanted to say, but all I could choke out was, “Did I scare you?”

I was smiling, laughing a little, though the sound was almost a sob. And soon Raihn was laughing too, and he kissed my face—my forehead, my brows, my nose, and finally, my mouth, leaving the taste of tears on my lips.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” he said. “Never fucking again.”

The door opened.

A woman stood in the frame, holding a mortar and pestle in one hand, like she’d rushed over so fast she hadn’t even had the time to put down what she was doing.

“I heard—”

But then her eyes found mine, and the words died.

I couldn’t speak either. Nor could I look away. Because Goddess, she looked sofamiliar—so familiar that everything else fell away. Those green eyes reminded me so much of someone I used to know.

She let out a long breath.

“You’re awake,” she said, at the same time that I said, “I know you.”

Those eyes crinkled with a sad smile.

“I didn’t think you would remember me.”

I didn’t know if I didrememberher, exactly. It was more like… recognizing an innate familiarity.

“I… you’re…”

My words trailed off. I wasn’t sure what I was trying to say, or how to name what I was feeling.

She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

“I’m Alya,” she said. “I’m your aunt.”

* * *

Alya,brusque and businesslike, insisted upon examining me before we talked about anything more. So while she checked my pulse and re-dressed my bandages, Raihn answered all the questions he already knew I would ask.

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