Page 14 of Crown of Light and Ashes
A twig snaps somewhere to my left. I'm instantly alert, a dagger appearing in my hand as if conjured.
"Your reflexes are still impressive," says a familiar voice, warm with amusement. "Though I'd have been disappointed if you'd relaxed them, even for me."
Aslan steps into the clearing, and something tight in my chest eases at the sight of him. He moves with fluid grace, the faint outline of something hidden beneath his tunic momentarily catching the dim light before disappearing again. Six years we've trained together, four years as lovers, three missions where we saved each other's lives. The scar that runs from his right temple to the corner of his mouth—asouvenir from the Eastern Territories mission, where he took a blade meant for me.
"You're late," I say, sheathing my dagger but not moving from my position.
"Actually, I've been here for twenty minutes, watching you." His smile is crooked, challenging. "You missed my approach from the south."
I narrow my eyes. "Impossible. I had clear sightlines."
"Not if I was in the trees." He points upward, his smile widening. "You always forget to look up, Nesi."
The nickname breaks something in me. My composure, maintained through confrontation with Kaan, through my father's revelations, through preparations for a marriage I dread—finally cracks. I cross the clearing in three quick strides and collide with him, my arms wrapping around his solid warmth.
He catches me easily, his arms tightening around my waist, his face buried in my hair. We stand like that for several heartbeats, neither speaking. I breathe in the familiar scent of him—pine resin and leather and something uniquely Aslan that I've never been able to name.
"You shouldn't be here," he murmurs against my temple. "If they catch you—"
"They won't," I pull back enough to look at his face, drinking in the features I know as well as my own. "I didn't spend years mastering stealth to be caught during a simple rendezvous."
His expression darkens. "There's nothing simple about this, Nesi. When we received word about the forced marriage—" He breaks off, his jaw tightening. "I wanted to storm the Shadow Court then and there."
"And get yourself killed?" I shake my head. "That would hardly improve the situation."
"No worse than you marrying that monster."His voice turns hard, his hands tightening on my waist. "Everyone knows what he is, what he does to those who displease him."
"I know exactly what he is," I say, stepping back slightly, needing the physical distance to maintain my focus. "That's why I'm going through with this."
Aslan's eyebrows draw together in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Aslan reaches for my hands, but I tuck them behind my back. "I need an explanation as to how you ended up tied to him." I sense more than just worry and anger; I can almost detect a tone of jealousy. I'd laugh if it had been anyone else.
I take a deep breath and tell him everything—Zoran's accidental killing of the advisor, Kaan's demand for marriage as blood payment, my father's revelation about my true purpose. As I speak, Aslan's expression cycles through shock, anger, and finally a grim understanding.
"So this is why you were recruited so young," he says when I finish. "Not just for standard missions, but as a long-term asset against the Shadow Court."
"It appears so."
"And you're going to go through with it?" He paces the small clearing, agitation evident in every movement. "Walk willingly into that viper's nest, into his bed, on the slim chance you might someday get close enough to kill him?"
"It's not a slim chance," I counter. "It's the best chance anyone has ever had. Kaan is well-protected, paranoid, and powerful. No external assassin has ever gotten close. But a wife..." I let the implication hang in the air.
"A wife he'll be watching closely, especially given the circumstances," Aslan argues. "He's not stupid, Nesi. He'll suspect something."
"Of course he will. Initially. But I have time. I can play the reluctant but gradually accepting bride. Build trust slowly."
A sudden breeze rustles the leaves, carrying with it a scent I can't quite identify—something metallic and cold.
"And how far are you willing to go for this charade?" Aslan's voice is dangerously quiet. "Will you share his bed? Bear his children? Where is the line, Nesi?"
The question hits a nerve. I've been avoiding thinking about the more intimate aspects of this arrangement, focusing instead on the tactical elements. But Aslan's words force me to confront the reality of what awaits me in a few short hours.
"I'll do what I must," I say, working to keep my voice steady. "For my court. For my family."
Aslan thumps his chest with a closed fist, his eyes flashing. "What about me? What about us? Don't we matter in this equation at all?"
His words spark a flare of irritation. Even now, he doesn't truly understand the weight of duty I've carried since childhood.
