Page 59 of Crown of Light and Ashes
But some wounds never truly heal. Some loves never truly die.
And some truths are too dangerous to ever speak aloud.
Chapter Seventeen
Blindfolded Surrender
Nesilhan
I SLAM THE door to my chambers hard enough to rattle the hinges, my whole body trembling with fury. After weeks of marriage, I thought I was beginning to understand him, but the memory of Kaan's face, the shock, the horror when he'd whispered that name, burns in my mind like a brand.
Isil.
Who is she? The question beats against my skull with each frantic heartbeat. I pace the perimeter of my room like a caged animal, light magic crackling at my fingertips in dangerous little sparks. The golden energy reflects off the polished marble walls, casting erratic shadows that dance with my agitation.
This shouldn't matter. He's my captor, my political burden, nothing more. Yet the way her name fell from hislips in that moment of intimacy—reverent, pained, loving—sends something sharp and unwelcome twisting through my chest.
"Someone's in a mood," an amused voice observes from the window seat.
I whirl to find Banu lounging comfortably among the silk cushions, her silver-blonde hair shifting through a rainbow of curious colors as she studies me. Her wings flutter slightly as she tilts her head, somehow managing to command the entire window seat despite her petite frame.
"Not now, Banu," I snap, resuming my pacing. The light magic pulses brighter with my frustration, and I consciously rein it in before I accidentally set something ablaze.
"Oh, but I think precisely now," she counters, floating upward to block my path with surprising grace. "Especially after what I just witnessed in the study. My, my, my—who knew the big bad shadow boy could be so easily rattled by a single name?"
I freeze mid-step. "You were watching?"
"Of course I was watching!" She rolls her eyes dramatically, executing a lazy spiral in the air. "What kind of fairy confidante would I be if I missed the juiciest parts? And that was definitely juicy—right up until it wasn't." She makes an explosive gesture with her hands. "Boom! Total meltdown. Rather impressive, actually."
Heat floods my face, shame and anger warring for dominance. "It wasn't…we weren't…"
"Oh, please." Banu circles me, her iridescent wings catching the lamplight as she hovers effortlessly. "You were bent over his desk with your skirts up and your dignity down. Not that I blame you—those shadows of his seem remarkably... dexterous."
"Stop it," I hiss, crossing my arms defensively.
"And then," she claps her hands together in gleeful scandalization, "just when things were getting properly interesting, he calls outanother woman's name! Even I felt that one, and I've been around for a few centuries."
I turn away, unwilling to let her see how deeply the incident has affected me. The rational part of my mind knows this reaction is dangerous. I cannot afford to care about Kaan's past lovers or current desires. My mission, my brother's life, everything depends on maintaining emotional distance.
I twist my mother’s ring on my finger three times but it doesn’t give me the grounding effect it once did.
But the irrational part, the part that responded so eagerly to his touch, burns with something that feels dangerously like jealousy.
"You're positively vibrating with unresolved tension," Banu observes, floating into my line of sight again. Her expression grows more serious, more analytical. "And something else. Could it be... jealousy?"
"Don't be absurd." The denial comes too quickly, too sharp.
"Then why are you sporting that 'I'm going to murder someone slowly with a dull spoon' expression? It's one of your more terrifying looks, by the way."
I rub my temples, trying to ease the throbbing that's taken up residence behind my eyes. The conflicting emotions are exhausting, desire, anger, hurt, confusion, all tangled together until I can barely think straight. "It's complicated."
"Oh, I'm sure it is," Banu agrees, settling cross-legged in midair with her wings spread for balance. "Complicated, messy, and absolutely dripping with sexual frustration."
"I am not sexually frustrated!" The declaration comes out louder than intended, and I immediately lower my voice. The walls in this palace have ears, and the last thing I need is servants gossiping about my personal business. "I simply want to know what I'm dealing with."
"Your body tells a different story," Banu singsongs, gesturingvaguely toward my entire form. "You're practically glowing with it. It's honestly a bit obscene."
I cross my arms more tightly, suddenly aware of how my body still hums with unfulfilled desire. "I don't know what you're talking about."
