Page 71 of The Curse of Golden Blood
She didn't answer. She just stared at me, her eyes a burn of gold in the darkness.
"Where's your guard? Tomos?"
Nothing. Only that slow tilt of her chin, rain like liquid moonlight splashing across her cheekbones.
"Answer me."
Another beat of silence, broken by the hiss of rain on stone. And then, at last, she spoke.
"Riden died."
I went still. Riden was the sick boy in the healing dome, the one I'd seen her visit regularly. The one she cared about.
"When?" I asked.
"Earlier today." Her words were tinged with grief, and I could see the pain in her face. She took a step closer to me, the rain spilling over her shoulders.
"What happened?"
"He's been fighting the Rot for weeks," she replied. "The healers said there was nothing they could do. Hejust... slipped away."
I didn't say anything. The rain was a constant whisper around us, the stone walls swallowing the sound of our voices.
She looked up at me, her eyes fierce and burning. "It's your fault. If you'd let me go through with the trials, he would still be alive."
"Miralyte, there's nothing we could have—"
"Don't. Just don't. Don't tell me that there's nothing we could have done when there is." She gritted her teeth, her jaw clenched. "You commanded me to stop. You blocked me at every turn. And now... now..." Her voice broke, and she shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
I wanted to comfort her, to reach out and pull her close, to tell her that it would be alright, that I was sorry, that I'd never meant for anyone to die. But I couldn't. She didn't want that, and even if she did, it was forbidden. I was a Warlord, and she was my Vessel. She was not here for me to hold.
"Say something," she snapped, her eyes blazing with emotion. "Tell me it was worth it, tell me this was worth his life."
I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
"Death is inevitable," I told her, keeping my voice steady and even. "Even if we'd succeeded, we couldn't have guaranteed we'd get to him in time to cure him. This is not your fault, Miralyte."
She shook her head. "How can you say that, after all that's happened? You brought me here. You stole me away from my family, my friends, my life! How can you not take responsibility for what you've done?"
"There's nothing we could have—"
"No! There is. There's always something. But you chose to ignore it, just like you chose to ignore my pleas, my needs. You had the power to save him, to save all of them, and you chose not to. Why?" Her voice wavered. "Why, Zydar?"
Her pain was a burning brand against my skin, twisting in my gut. I'd caused this. Nevermind that we hadn’t figured out the cure yet. With her daily blood donations, Riden had been just barely holding on. But I thought back to Miralyte struggling to feed herself soup, Miralyte looking pale and struggling to walk; and I knew in my gut that I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
I stepped closer, the rain soaking through my clothes. The words caught in my throat, rough and grating. "I couldn't risk losing you."
Her amber eyes widened.
And then, just as quickly, her expression changed to something like rage.
"You had no right!" She slammed her palm into my chest, hard enough to make me stagger. "You had no right to take my choice from me! No right to keep my powers under lock and key. I could have healed him. I could have saved him."
I gripped her shoulders, shaking my head, trying to find the words to tell her that the only way to save Riden would’ve cost her her life. "Miralyte—"
"It's not fair!" She struck me again, her fist colliding with my chest. The force of it sent ripples of light over the obsidian floor.
"Miralyte." I caught her wrist, resisting the urge to pull her close. "Stop."
