Page 86 of Grave Flowers
“So,” he said in the stoniest voice I’d ever heard him use, “what did you see?”
Bewildered, I looked down at the enmity I’d attempted to drink from, trying to understand what had happened.
Both enmities drooped.
Nectar hemorrhaged from their stalks. Weak and hurt, they tucked their emptied basins beneath their leaves. So there was a reason Aeric had suddenly held a dagger in his hand.
“You—you slashed my enmity,” I said.
“I think you did the same for mine,” he returned. He ran his hand through his hair. The motion was desperate and despairing. “But it seems you still managed a few drops.”
“Only one,” I said, considering what to reveal and what to hide. Perhaps the best thing for now was to simply bely his fears that I’d learned too much. Then I could cull through what I’d learned and decide the best course of action. “It was hardly anything.” I should probably say it was something inconsequential, but I couldn’t help torturing him a bit. “I must confess, I was enchanted.”
“Enchanted?”
“You fear you love me.”
Aeric, who always had a ready answer for everything, was silent. He dropped his head for a long moment, so all I saw was his tousled hair. When he lifted it, his eyes were full of resignation and mortification. Still, ever himself, he tried to soldier on.
“What’s a little fear between lovers?” he asked. He bit off the ends of his words. “Keeps things lively, I should think.”
“Perhaps.” I tried to make use of the moment. “But why fear loving me? We are to be wed. I should think you’d fearnotloving me, especially since our union was arranged by others.”
“Because I saw what love did to my father.” Gone was the brazenness. Aeric spoke directly to me, his voice suddenly tinged in pain. “His love for my mother tormented him. It made him question everything, whether he’d done the right thing or whether he hadn’t done enough in the whole Montario business. The questions were like a room, frozen in time, one he reentered every night and sat inside. When he died, part of me was relieved. I hoped, desperately, that he could finally leave the room. That, when he arrived where he was going in the afterlife, he found the forgiveness he sought from my mother.”
I listened, half infuriated, half hurting for my betrothed. He spoke the truth—of that I was certain. But I also knew it wasn’t the full truth.
Aeric, I suspected, was masterfully using his genuine emotions as a trick to distract me.
“Marriage is a transaction for ones such as ourselves,” I said, unable to completely remain unsympathetic. “But love is not. Its presence or its absence complicates all. I fear love too. I fear its strength and how it cannot be restrained once given.” I paused, hoping I’d sufficiently lowered his defenses. “But if that was your secret from me, I do wonder why you slashed my enmity.”
Aeric’s face darkened, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile, as though acknowledging that I hadn’t fallen for his wiles. “And just as you wonder why, I wonder the same for you.”
“Unholy thoughts about you, of course.” I smiled back at him. “Very unholy.”
A raw fire dashed through Aeric’s eyes faster than he could suppress it. It was the sort of fire that made you wish to pin someone against a wall and press your lips to theirs. I knew because my own desire rose for the same, despite myself. I wondered, for a moment, if we just might. I sensed that if I moved one inch, if I took one step toward him, he would come to me and lean me against one of the rock walls.
And I couldn’t allow it.
I tore my gaze from him and then met it once again, struggling to fully vanquish my rampant desires. We waited, readying for the other to show their hand, to make a move, to make a mistake that might be exploited. Then, slowly, an inane humor welled inside me. My mouth twitched, a real smile replacing the fake one. Aeric blinked and then he grinned too.
I laughed.
He laughed.
“We are a ridiculous pair,” he said. He rubbed his neck, glancing at the enmities we’d both slashed to protect ourselves. “Perhaps one day we will truly know each other.”
I sobered. I knew such a day would never come.
“We should head back to the palace,” I said, burying my sadness. “Tomorrow is the wedding.” Just as I didn’t let Aeric use a possessive pronoun with me, I didn’t allow myself to use one for the wedding. It wasn’t truly our wedding or my wedding. It was only the wedding, something far removed from me. I paused. “I noticed you had a dagger.”
“This?” Aeric reached into his pocket and brandished the weapon with a flourish. “I took your advice on hidden weapons. You were right. It was challenging to conceal it with the thin fabric, but one of the sewists finally figured it out.”
“And how do you like it?”
“I like it. I’m truly unstoppable now. Though if you ever wish to embrace, let me know, and I shall quickly divest myself of it.”
“Oh, a dagger wouldn’t keep me away,” I said with a smile. “I’m a Radixan princess. If anything, I would find it exciting. Now, do you mind going ahead? I wish to take my leave of Alifair.”
