Page 47 of A Monsoon Rising

“That and the sarimans.” She sat as far away from him as the rock shelf would allow. His features hardened at the mention of the birds, which she chalked up to the same general unease at the very concept of them that she, too, felt on occasion.

He changed the subject, looking up at the grotto ceiling and its cracks of daylight, its overhang of stalactites. “We can aethermance, smash through there, if the flood worsens. Or if we run out of food and water.”

“Do youhaveenough food and water? I lost my pack.” Would he even deign to share? She fought down the panic, a leftover from her childhood. Surely he wouldn’t let her starve, he needed her to face the Voidfell and to maintain Kesath’s foothold in Nenavar. But what if …

Talasyn’s stomach rumbled, an echo of her distress. Alaric clapped a hand over his mouth, a soft chuckle escaping him,and there was an undercurrent of regret to her mortification, regret because she had yet to see what he looked like when he was smiling and she was so unabashedly curious.

He nudged his pack toward her. “Help yourself.”

She inspected the food squirreled away in straw baskets, cushioned by banana leaves. Steamed rice cakes, slabs of creamy white sun buffalo cheese, smoked venison, and whole salted duck eggs, their shells dyed a bright magenta hue so that kitchens all over Nenavar could distinguish them from fresh ones that hadn’t spent sennights curing in clay and charcoal paste. Talasyn estimated that it would all last three days between her and Alaric, rivaling what she’d brought to Belian.

“You really were set on staying here a while,” she remarked.

“Communing with the Shadow Sever seemed a much better use of my time than sitting around waiting for you to come back.”

There was a note of accusation in his voice despite his cool facade. Unwilling to explain, Talasyn busied herself with methodically peeling a salted egg, the beetroot dye staining her fingers.

The longer she said nothing, the more her silence appeared to irk her husband. He leaned back, crossing his arms. “You always were the type to run,” he drawled. “From me on the Highlands ice. Back to your quarters whenever we argued at the Roof of Heaven. In hindsight, I’ve no idea why I assumed we could discuss yesterday’s situation like adults.”

“There is nothing to discuss!” Talasyn snapped. “We were both half-asleep, and that’sall. We can just forget it.”

“Like all those other times?”

“Yes.”

“I fail to understand why you couldn’t have told me that to my face—”

“I’m telling you now, you dolt—”

“—instead of sailing off to the other end of the country after the fact, like a coward—”

“Why, did I hurt His Majesty’s feelings?”

Talasyn had spat it out with the thoughtlessness of reflex. Just pure venomous retaliation, just another volley in the never-ending war that they had been waging solely against each other since the night they met.

But the way Alaric’s shoulders went tense, as though she’d struck him, made her stomach drop.

“Wereyour feelings really—” she started to ask, but he cut her off.

“It’s male pride,” he said coolly. “It’s not good for our egos when the lady flees after the tryst.”

Talasyn narrowed her eyes. An unpeeled portion of eggshell cracked in her fist.And just how many ladies have lingered in your bed?she nearly asked, before stopping herself in the nick of time. She shouldn’t care at all.

“Your ego could stand to be whittled down a bit,” she huffed, “so as far as I’m concerned, I’ve done humankind a service.”

“As you say.” He was uncaring, unaffected, as he casually leaned over to retrieve a salted egg from the pack.

She hated herself for wanting that encounter to have meant more to him, even though it was for the best that it didn’t. She hated the ugly thing that clawed at her chest as she thought about the women before her. His past shouldn’t matter;heshould hardly even matter, outside of the role he would play in her endgame.

And yet Talasyn kept circling back to that night in his chambers, how he’d been so broken, how he’d asked her to be kind. How sweetly he’d kissed her.

But he didn’t evenrememberthe kiss—and even if he did, it would still be of no consequence, like all else they’d done together.

It was just physical attraction. They were both just lonely.

After their meal, he offered her one of the four waterskins that he’d lugged from Iantas. She took a hearty swig, then set it under one of the leaks in the limestone ceiling to be replenished by the rain.

Then there was nothing left to do but wait.

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