Page 95 of Crown of Light and Ashes
She lands gently on the edge of my bed, her expression uncharacteristically serious. "I meant to give you something," she says, reaching into a hidden pocket in her flowing silver robes. "I figured you might want this back."
The small crystal vial she produces makes my heart stutter. Inside, iridescent purple liquid shifts with hypnotic patterns—the potion Aslan tried to force on me, the one he claimed would break my blood bond with Kaan.
"You kept it?" I whisper, pushing myself to a sitting position through my nausea. "Why?"
Banu shrugs, twirling the vial between her delicate fingers. "Call it insurance. Just because you don't want to use it now doesn't mean you won't need it someday."
I reach for the vial hesitantly. "You think I should take it?"
"I think," she says carefully, "that you should have options. Even if you're currently head over heels for Mr. Tall, Dark, and Homicidal."
"I'm not—" I begin automatically, then stop myself. What's the point of denying it anymore? To Banu, to myself, to anyone? "Is it that obvious?"
Her laugh is gentle rather than mocking. "Only to anyone with eyes, ears, or basic observational skills. You look at him like he hung the moon instead of occasionally using it for ritualistic shadow magic."
I take the vial from her, studying the liquid inside. Once, I would have given anything for this, freedom from the bond that connects meto Kaan. Now, the thought of severing that connection makes my chest ache with unexpected loss.
"I'll keep it," I decide, tucking it into a concealed fold in my gown. "But I don't think I'll…"
My sentence cuts off as a fresh surge of sickness hits me, stronger than before. I barely make it to the bathroom before emptying the contents of my stomach into a basin. Banu follows, holding my hair back as I retch miserably.
"There, there," she soothes, her small hand rubbing circles on my back. "Just let it all out. Though preferably not on my new slippers—they're made from moonbeam silk, very hard to clean."
Even with my misery, I manage a weak laugh. "Your concern is touching."
"I'm a fairy of many talents. Sympathy, fashion advice, and holding back hair while my favorite human vomits her guts out." She hands me a damp cloth to wipe my mouth. "Not necessarily in that order."
When the bout of illness finally passes, Banu helps me to my feet. "You need some fresh air," she decides. "This room smells like a combination of shadow magic and misery, which cannot be helping."
I do not argue, letting her guide me through the palace corridors and out into the eastern garden. The twilight breeze is cool against my flushed skin, the scent of night-blooming flowers surprisingly soothing to my unsettled stomach.
"Better?" Banu asks as I take a deep breath.
"A little," I admit, moving toward a stone bench beneath an ancient tree whose leaves shimmer with faint silver light. "The garden air helps."
We have just settled on the bench when Banu suddenly tenses beside me. "Company incoming," she murmurs, nodding toward the far end of the garden.
Kaan and Emir walk along a shadowed path, their heads bent close in what appears to be an intense conversation. Even from this distance, I can see the tension in Kaan's shoulders, the tight set of his jaw that indicates he's deeply troubled about something.
"I don't want him to see me like this," I murmur, shrinking back against the tree. "He'll start fussing, and I can't handle his hovering right now."
Banu studies the pair, her head tilted in that way that means she's curious. "Their conversation seems heated," she observes. "Emir looks worried—more than usual, I mean. That man's default expression is 'mildly concerned.'" She sighs dramatically, her wings fluttering a little faster. "Though I must say, concern looks exceptionally good on him. Have you noticed how his forehead creases just so when he's troubled? And those shoulders..."
I turn to her in surprise, catching an unmistakable gleam in her eyes as she watches Emir. "Banu! Are you... attracted to Emir?"
Her silver-blonde locks suddenly shift to a telling pink, and she coughs delicately. "I have eyes, don't I? Just because he's Shadow Court doesn't mean I can't appreciate the view. That man wears authority like a second skin." She fans herself theatrically. "Besides, there's something irresistible about someone who can maintain perfect posture while constantly surrounded by chaos."
I stare at her, momentarily distracted from mytroubles. In all our time together, I never heard Banu express genuine interest in anyone—her commentary usually limited to sarcastic observations rather than admiration.
"I had no idea," I say, unable to hide my astonishment.
"Don't look so shocked," she scoffs, though her hair remains tellingly pink. "Even fairies have taste. And speaking of taste—" She turns back to the approaching menwith renewed interest.
Before I can stop her, Banu rises from the bench. "Give me a minute," she adds, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Banu, no—" I reach for her, but she's already shimmering into invisibility. "You shouldn't eavesdrop on people's conversations!" I hiss into the empty air, but I'm fairly certain she's already gone.
I sit back with a sigh, feeling marginally better as the cool evening air continues to work its magic on my unsettled stomach. Still, an underlying queasiness remains, along with a bone-deep fatigue that's unlike anything I have experienced before. A treacherous thought that hovers at the edges of my mind for days now pushes forward with renewed insistence: what if this isn't illness at all?
