Chapter Text
We were in the closest village across the Let border from Kazerath, where the residents had welcomed us with open arms after our defeat of Ruven. The Skinwitch had been the biggest threat to the serenity of the Empire in a century. And in the end, after all the cleverly constructed plans to take him down had failed, it had been my desperate, clumsy ploy with the jess that sealed Ruven’s magic, combined with Zaira’s balefire that had saved us all from the impending apocalypse.
And yet, as I sat down for breakfast next to Zaira, Marcello, and Kathe, I felt far less relief than I’d expected. Despite Marcello’s recovery and Zaira’s surprising and heart-warming trust in me to be her freely chosen Falconer. Despite the good news pouring in from all corners of the Empire, of people freed from Ruven’s odious control after his death. I didn’t feel like a hero who had averted a war and saved everyone from becoming mind-controlled slaves of an evil Witch Lord. I felt like a girl who had won a battle, but for whom the war continued to rage on the inside.
My eyes flitted from Marcello to Kathe as I spread butter on a slice of bread, smiling and nodding at Zaira’s jokes, not even blushing whenever she let a lewd remark slip. Even after a sleepless night of tossing and turning, I should have been happy that they were all alive and well.
But all I could see when I looked at Marcello was the frailness of a man who should not have been out of bed. The moment when I’d stabbed him during the battle replayed with gruesome accuracy in front of my eyes. His blood on my hands. My anguish. The thought that Ruven would never have targeted him, controlled him, turned him into a chimera, had he not been my friend. The man for whom I cared so deeply.
And when my gaze settled on Kathe, all I could feel was the remembrance of dread. The dread that had enveloped me when Ruven’s disgusting magic had pulled him under the water, to be forever crushed by it, imprisoned in endless darkness with no hope of escaping until he chose death. Phantom shivers traversed me. The ice in my veins when I thought I’d lost him. The hopeless scream wrenched from my dry throat that had gone on for so long I feared I’d lose my voice. His absence, eternal as I’d thought it would be, had carved out a painful, bleeding hollowness in my chest. And something still rattled there, in the shock-forged lingering emptiness. The realization… Oh, the cursed realization that… That…
“Excuse me, I need to lie down.” Marcello rose from the table, his lips pale, and left the dining room, looking as though he were on the brink of fainting.
A sigh escaped me before I could stop it. Kathe had brought up Hal.
“Captain Verdi apologized this morning and offered his life in return for killing Hal. I didn’t take him up on it, of course, considering that he was controlled by Ruven when he did it. But I also will not spare his feelings on the matter,” Kathe said.
I looked away from him when I stood up, unable to meet his gaze. Not now. Not just yet.
“Nor should you have to, Lord Kathe. Hal was your good friend. But you’ll have to excuse me for a moment. I need to make sure Marcello is all right.”
—
In the upstairs hallway, Marcello was sitting on the worn floorboards, leaning against the wall. In spite of his transformation, he was still a handsome man. Once upon a time, what felt like a million years ago, my heart would have fluttered wildly at the sight of him.
In hushed whispers, we talked about Hal, the doge, and everything else he’d done while enslaved by Ruven’s magic. His gnawing guilt was almost palpable, as though a scratchy blanket had been thrown on top of us in the chilly hallway. I talked gently, trying to reassure him, to convince him that he was still a good man, still the same Captain Marcello Verdi, my close friend, my rock, my anchor in a raging storm. And I meant every word of it, even if it all rang hollow against my ears. I bent to brush the hair back from his orange eye and ran my fingertips down the scales on the side of his face.
“Am I getting a kiss from you as well?” Marcello asked, in a low voice, eyes blown wide, as though surprised by his own courage. “If it’s not too bold of me to ask, of course.”
“Marcello…” I started, not knowing how to continue. I looked down the hall, for once wishing that someone would interrupt us so I wouldn’t have to face the consequences of what would follow. But no footsteps sounded. There was no escaping what had to come next. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I understand,” he said, raising a hand to his cheek in an attempt to hide the scales. “I don’t blame you for not feeling compelled to kiss a chimera.”
“It’s not that,” I said, shaking my head and hugging myself, as though fending off an invisible wind. “I promise you it’s not. You’re still a very… uhm, attractive man.” I felt myself blush. Graces, how was I still so bad at this, even when my intentions weren’t directed towards flirting or courtship?
He huffed a bitter laugh, his mismatched eyes poised on me, making me feel bared to his intense gaze. “But I’m the monster who killed the doge and Hal, who injured you and endangered the Empire. And you’re still the Cornaro heir who needs to make an appropriate political match.”
The final words sent a dull pang echoing through my chest, but for entirely different reasons than the ones Marcello was imagining.
“To hell with that. After everything we’ve been through, I would be ready to fight all of them, my mother, the Council, the whole Raverran society, for what I truly want. It’s just…”
“You don’t want me. Not anymore.”
Numbness spread through my limbs like a snake uncoiling. I didn’t have the heart to confirm Marcello’s fears. “I do want you still,” I said, my voice shaking. “But what I need is for you to be my rock, my guiding light in everything that we still need to accomplish together.”
“I will always be your friend, Amalia. You know that. I will never abandon you or our mission to change society for the better,” Marcello said, reaching for my hand, but I pulled away, and he winced as though I’d struck him. For a few agonizing moments he looked at me like I was a stranger. “During the battle… You said you loved me.”
I clutched my stomach on a sharp inhale. He remembered. There was no point now in denying the words that had slipped out when he was teetering on the edge between life and death.
“Yes, I did. And I meant it,” I said, slowly, the words rolling off my tongue with care, with the unwillingness to hurt him more than I already had. “I do love you from the bottom of my heart.”
“But not… romantically,” he said, with a bitter sigh, leaning his head against the wall. His hair fell into his eyes once more, but this time I didn’t reach out to brush it away. “Something has changed. Or rather, I’ve changed.”
“I’ve changed too, Marcello. Everything has, in fact.”
The last words slipped out as easily as mist clearing to reveal the sharp blue of the sky. A weight was lifted when I spoke them. Indeed, everything was different now. Along the way, throughout the darkness and chaos of the past months, my love for Marcello had shifted. It was still there, steady and stable, but the passion and desire had dissipated.
He nodded slowly. Marcello always heard my unspoken words, the ones locked behind my lips and hidden between the fine wrinkles of my facial expressions.
“Of course, I won’t press the matter, Amalia. No matter how much it hurts me. It was a beautiful dream, but at the end of the day, a dream nonetheless.”
“Marcello, I—”
“I only need to know one thing, and then I’ll never bring this up again.” He paused, his gaze guarded. “Is this about the Crow Lord?”
Unconsciously, I took a step back, mouth agape, attempting to put distance between myself and the mere idea that Marcello would say such a thing.
“This is between you and me.”
“It is.” When he raised his eyes to mine, it felt like a challenge. “And while I accept your decision, I want to know, is it because you chose him?”
“I’m not choosing anything.” My voice sounded more bitter than I’d intended. “And you know very well that it only started as a political courtship.”
He couldn’t stop the pain from showing on his features, and I knew that, at this moment, only a small part of it was due to injury. “Is that also how it continued? As only a political courtship?”
“That’s my own business,” I said. Harsher than I’d intended.
“I see,” he said.
“There’s nothing to see.”
“Answer the question, then.”
“What is the question exactly?” I said, my patience already wearing thin, something I didn’t want to happen, especially not with a dear friend in pain. But he was twisting a knife in a wound that he didn’t even know was there.
“Do you love him?”
I wished I could repeat the usual refrain. That it was just a political courtship, a move that had given us unparalleled leverage against Vaskandar. That Kathe had been instrumental in Ruven’s downfall. That I was the daughter of Lissandra Cornaro, doge of Raverra and the Serene Empire, and that I had a duty to fulfill, nothing more.
I wished with all my might that I could say I didn’t love Kathe. But I couldn’t.
—
It was only that evening, when the sun had begun to set, and red light bled upon my bedroom floor, that I heard a rap on the window. With a heavy sigh, I pulled back the curtains to find Kathe perched on the windowsill.
“We’re sharing a house now. Surely you can at least consider using the door.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he said, with an easy laugh.
He jumped down gracefully, landing on the floor with a playful flourish. He was wearing his black cloak with feathered shoulders and his simple gray tunic with Vaskandran embroidery snaking like lightning down one edge. The rays of the setting sun played in his white-blond hair with the tips dyed black, and there was a glint of mischief in his eyes that bore the piercing yellow rings of his mage mark.
Unbidden, my gaze settled his lips. He must have noticed, because they quirked in a lopsided smile.
But I couldn’t stop the remembrance of dread from enveloping me. How I’d felt for a moment that the universe had frozen and the stars had collapsed in on themselves when he was pulled underneath the dark, icy water. How the forests had moaned and wailed, how the ground beneath my feet had almost swallowed me, even though I had to keep going, because I was the Serene Empire’s last hope of avoiding destruction.
And through the haze of emotions, another memory pierced my thoughts, vivid as the light playing with Kathe’s hair. His betrayal when he had used me as bait to kill the Lady of Thorns. The shattered trust that had hurt more than my broken ribs. He’d apologized since then, of course, he’d done everything he could to make amends, he’d risen against a fellow Witch Lord and fought on our side. It mattered, even if that Witch Lord was Ruven. But still… Still…
“Is there something wrong, Amalia?” he asked, his tone and countenance uncharacteristically serious.
“It’s just been a trying few months, as you can well imagine,” I said, with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.
He didn’t look convinced. “Of course. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like in order to rest and recover. I’d do my best to make your stay as comfortable as possible. I can procure other options for breakfast, besides the traditional Vaskandran pile of meat.” His lips quivered with the threat of a smile, but it died swiftly. “Although I imagine you need to return to Raverra.”
“I believe we must, yes,” I said. “My mother will be expecting me, and there are a lot of matters to take care of now, in the aftermath of Ruven’s aggression.”
I clasped my hands behind my back to resist the temptation of extending my right one so he could brush his lips against my knuckles. So I could feel the hum of magic underneath his skin and the shiver that traversed me whenever Kathe’s lips went anywhere near my body. I let my eyes wander around the sparsely furnished room so I wouldn’t stare too long at him again.
He bowed his head, his expression unreadable. “I shall see to it that you cross the Vaskandran border safely.”
“Thank you, Lord Kathe.”
“My pleasure, Lady Amalia.” There was a bitter note to the formality with which he spoke my name. “Are you sure you’re all right?” The crease between his eyebrows signaled concern.
A thousand words rushed to my lips, forever doomed to remain unspoken. Temptation and desire hammered against my chest in time with my heart. It would have been so easy to give in, but I knew I couldn’t.
I pressed my lips together. “Yes, thank you for your concern. As I said, I’m merely shaken by the recent turmoil. I suspect we’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
“Understood.”
The topic we were avoiding grew and swelled between us like a living, breathing thing, feeding off our desire to broach the topic as we both fidgeted uncomfortably. At length, Kathe spoke.
“There is still the matter of our courtship. I am aware that it started for political reasons. You needed all the help you could get to mediate the Vaskandran threat. And I hope I performed my part reasonably well.” He bowed with a flourish, though without his usual mirth. “The right thing to do would be to tell you that you’re released from any obligation, should you feel it. That you’re released from this courtship, considering it is of no use to you any longer.” He paused, his gaze seeking mine as fervently as I sought to avoid gawking at him for too long. “But I cannot. Noble as the sentiments behind such a statement might be, my aim isn’t nobility.”
“What is your aim then, Crow Lord of Let?” I asked, my voice quivering.
“Honesty. For once,” he added, upon hearing my scoff. “I know I haven’t been completely honest with you in the past—”
“You betrayed me in the past,” I said, crossing my arms.
“I know.”
“Whenever you speak, I’m forced to wonder what hidden meaning lies beneath your words.”
“I know that as well. I can’t be accused of being predictable or dull.”
“Certainly not. If there’s anything I’d accuse you of, it’s being infuriating.”
“I’ll take it,” he said, a wide grin spreading on his face. “Do I have to choose a single adjective to best describe you as well?”
I rolled my eyes, even though slipping into a familiar dynamic was more comforting that I wanted to admit. “We’re not playing a game.”
“Why not? It would certainly make things more interesting,” he said, his words laced with just a hint of danger. “Not to mention potentially less awkward.”
“Is that your problem with honesty in general? That it might lead to awkward situations?”
“Not exactly. I just need to keep at least some of my cards close to the chest in general. However, not this time,” he added, upon seeing that I’d opened my mouth in protest. He showed me his right hand, splaying his fingers. “I’m not holding any cards. Like I told you before, I’m aware that I already played my part in averting the Vaskandran threat, which was your main interest in courting me. And since you don’t want to play a game, I’ll say it outright.”
He took a step forward, and suddenly he was so close that I had to tilt my head back to look into his eyes. So close that I could feel his scent and the intoxicating draw of the magic humming underneath his skin.
“This courtship isn’t only a political move for me, Lady Amalia. It hasn’t been for a long time. I’ve come to care for you, deeply. When we don’t see each other for longer periods of time, I miss you. I enjoy spending time in your company, even though mortal peril seems to follow you like the plague.” He paused to chuckle with what sounded like genuine affection. “I know some of my behavior towards you has been impardonable, but should you choose to continue our courtship because you feel the same, at least partly, I’d continue to do my best to make amends and earn back your trust.”
I heaved a heavy sigh, balling my hands into fists. He smelled of rain and the sunset trickling into the sky. Of colorful leaves wrenched from their branches by a warm autumn wind. Of the moon against a pitch-black, velvet sky. Of freedom as deep as that of one of his crows taking flight.
A mere half step separated us. It would have been so easy to walk up to him, pull him downwards, and press my lips against his, so the deep thrum of passion and the humming of his magic could envelop me. To feel his hands on my waist and run my fingers across the strong muscles of his chest. To feel the heat of his body against me. To let my eyes flutter shut and forget. About devastation and screams. About betrayal and heartbreak. About powerlessness in the face of waves so strong they could wash me away in a heartbeat.
Marcello was my anchor, my rock in the middle of a devastating storm. But Kathe? Kathe was the storm. And for this reason, I couldn’t allow myself to forget.
“I appreciate the honesty. I am… honored to be the object of your affection, Lord Kathe. But honor compels me to answer honestly in turn, even though my answer might not be what you want to hear.” My voice broke slightly as something small and hidden deep inside me, something I’d desperately wanted to keep safe without even realizing it, curled in on itself and died. “You were right in stating that this was simply a political courtship for me.” I paused to breathe in deeply and was forced to avert my eyes so he wouldn’t see the pain swirling around in them. “I admit that our time together was enjoyable. And you will forever have my and the Serene Empire’s gratitude for your help, but if it is genuine affection that you seek, I cannot offer it. So our courtship must come to an end.”
My mother could have likely given a much stronger performance, but it was all I could manage under the current circumstances. When my chest ached as though a piece of it was missing.
At first, Kathe was silent, as the seconds stretched eternally between us, painful as needles. He was as still as a statue. In my mad grief, I had to wonder if he’d even heard me, or if the Graces had miraculously bestowed a second chance upon me. But of course, they hadn’t. Water spilled could not be returned to the glass. Words spoken could not be taken back.
And then, he did the unthinkable. He started laughing. I looked up to see the crinkles around his eyes and the genuine mirth shimmering like a halo around him.
“Oh, my dear Lady Amalia.” He paused to wipe his eyes, as though tears had gathered there with his raucous laughter. “This is truly unexpected.”
“Excuse me?”
The smile froze on his face and a veil of seriousness descended upon him. “You’re lying.”
“I… Lord Kathe, I am well aware that my answer is perhaps not what you wanted to hear, but—”
“You are lying, and for the life of me I can’t figure out why.” He cocked his head, surveying me like an oddity, like a puzzle that needed solving. “Are you trying to hurt me? In revenge perhaps for the time when I betrayed you?” His eyes searched my features, alight with curious inquiry.
“You know full well I do not waste time on vengeance. And I’m not lying.”
“Oh, but you are. You’re pushing me away. Or at least trying to.”
As though to prove the futility of it all, he took another tiny step forward, and the space between us all but vanished. The scent of rain, the curious mischief in his eyes, the warmth of his body, the hum of his magic, it was too much. It made me dizzy. Without thinking, I steadied myself on his chest. Smiling, he covered my hands with his, sending electric jolts shooting through my body. He rested his forehead against mine.
“Why? When it’s clear to me now how much you want me?” he breathed out, and his whisper made its way under my skin. Lathered in sinful undertones. “Is it a test?”
“I don’t… I already told you, I can’t continue this courtship, because I don’t feel the same way as you do.”
“You’re shaking.”
“You’re too close.”
“Or perhaps I’m not close enough.” He whispered the words in my ear, his breath ghosting my skin.
My breath came in labored pants. Yes, he wasn’t close enough. I wanted his lips on mine, his hands caressing my cheeks and back, getting lost in my hair, perhaps even brushing against the swell of my breast. The very air around me vibrated with painful want. A whirlwind in which it would be so easy to get lost.
A storm that would sweep me away in a heartbeat if I surrendered to it.
My eyes flew open at the thought. I’d already made my decision. And I wasn’t going to back down. I couldn’t allow myself to be swayed by danger-lathered words. I couldn’t afford any weakness. Not now.
It took everything I had, the last ounce of my dwindling strength, to pull away from him. I pulled myself up to my full height and squared my shoulders.
“You’re forgetting yourself, Crow Lord.”
“Am I?” He leaned against the wall with crossed arms, raising an eyebrow challengingly at me.
“You are. But if it will help get my message across, let’s play a game. The first one we ever played together.”
“Two truths and a lie?”
“You remember,” I said.
“I remember every moment spent with you, Amalia.”
I hissed quietly. I couldn’t afford weakness. “I’ll go first. I am not the daughter of the most powerful and dangerous woman in the Serene Empire.”
Kathe huffed. “That’s obviously the lie. As well as quite a thinly veiled threat.”
“I rarely do something for one reason alone,” I said.
“It’s clear you learned from the best. And now I suppose you’ll tell me two true statements?”
“I’ll make it three,” I said. I steeled myself against the pain threatening to close my throat and drown my eyes. Damn it, I was Amalia Cornaro, and I would not succumb to weakness. “I’ve never had feelings for you, Lord Kathe. I do not love you. And I am convinced I can never love you.”