Page 27 of Veinblood
“Yes, he murdered the very people who loved him without limits, who never made him feel less because of circumstances beyond his control. Yet he still chose the Authority over them.”
“I’m sorry.” She swallows. “I’msosorry. I can’t even imagine betrayal like that.”
Her sympathy makes me uncomfortable. I’ve spent half my life setting aside the personal loss I suffered in favor of what I needed to do to ensure my people survived. Grief is a luxury that survival rarely permits, yet her compassion is genuine, and I’m not entirely sure how to navigate it.
“The past cannot be altered. Understanding Sereven’s motivations provides an insight into future encounters with him, but dwelling on childhood connections serves no productive purpose.”
I know how I sound. But she accepts it without question, nodding slowly.
“Thank you. For telling me. I know it can’t have been easy.”
“The information seemed relevant to your further understanding of the situation.”
“Itisrelevant, but it’s also personal, Sacha.”
“You being able to understand our enemy is a tactical advantage.”
“Right.” Her smile makes it clear she sees through my attempt to remain detached.
The admission of Sereven’s true relationship to me changes nothing about our current circumstances, yet sharing it feels significant. I’ve told her truths I’ve shared with no one other than Varam.
Perhaps this is what she means by trust. A willingness to share vulnerabilities that serve no purpose beyond connection itself. A concept that continues to challenge my understanding, but seems essential to whatever exists between us.
She reaches for my hand, linking our fingers together. When I look at her, she gives me that little smile again, and curls against my side. It’s shocking how she touches me without thought or consideration of whether it’s appropriate or not to be so familiar with the Vareth’el. But what’s more shocking is how right it feels.
I think about her almost-slip earlier, the words she stopped herself from saying. I told her last night that she holds everything I am. Today, she proved she understands what that means. Perhaps, in time, she’ll trust me with whatever it was she wanted to say in return.
Chapter Nine
ELLIE
“To heal a wound, we must first acknowledge the cause.”
The Healer's Codex, ancient Tidevein manuscript
His fingers arewarm against mine, where they’re linked together, but it’s clear his thoughts aren’t here with me. He’s still, so very still, in that way he is when he’s refusing to let any emotion out. It’s so easy for me to see now. So much so that I wonder how I once thought him emotionless and cold.
I can’t even begin to imagine how it must feel growing up with someone, trusting them with your life, only to discover they orchestrated everything terrible that happened to your family. The scale of that betrayal hurts my heart.
I want to do something for him. Something that has nothing to do with brothers who murder their parents for power. Something that doesn’t require magic, and duty, and masks worn to hide the person beneath. Something normal.
What will feel like I’m showing him I care without an agenda? What would give him comfort without him feeling like there are strings attached?
Then I remember. Christmas dinner. I bought everything … when? Before Meridian. Before my life changed. I’ve lived through months since then, but the calendar says it was just days ago.
“I’m going to start preparing dinner.” I untangle my fingers from his and stand up.
He turns slightly at the sound of my voice. “Dinner?”
“Christmas dinner. I had everything planned for today.” I pause on my way to the kitchen. “I’m finding it really hard to believe I’ve lived for months in Meridian, yet only a couple of days have passed here … but I bought everything at the beginning of the week. Turkey breast, potatoes, the whole traditional meal. Scaled down for one person. But there is always too much, so it’ll be enough for both of us.” I’m rambling, filling the silence with words just to try and bring him back to the present.
“May I help?” His tone is still a little more formal than I’d like, but I’ll take it.
“Sure.”
He follows me into the kitchen, and positions himself near the archway where he can watch without getting in my way.
I take the turkey breast from the refrigerator, small but more than enough for two, then gather the rest of the things I need. As I move around the kitchen, I’m aware of Sacha tracking my every movement. When I turn on the oven, he asks me about it.
