Page 26 of House of Ashes

The abandonment by someone who loved me was a pain like no other.

Months later, when I’d realized it was not a mistake, that he had truly sent me away to die in exile, that pain had turned into the festering hatred I’d nursed for so long.

Knowing that Rhylan had asked for him to leave me out of it, that my father had turned him away in order to punish me…that hurt in a way I hadn’t imagined it would, a thin dagger in the heart. I’d believed time had healed most of my wounds, a scar growing over the place where my father’s love should have been.

Clearly, I’d been wrong.

“I did.” Rhylan’s jaw was set, his shoulders tense. “I pleaded with him for clemency for you, and he told me that it was the only way. By his orders, you were never to step foot off the island. He said you were dangerous.”

“Me? Dangerous?” I stared at him, utterly confused. I had just been a girl, dreaming fruitlessly of the dragon she could never have. Back in those days, the only danger was in forgetting myself and my duty, and offending another powerful House by mistake.

Rhylan shook his head, dark hair falling over his face. “Forget it. I know that I’m the one who ruined your life. I accept responsibility for that, and that I must make things right for you.”

I wanted to tell him that nothing could make up for years imprisoned in that hellscape, but that was a lie.

He was willing to give me Varyamar and Koressis, and they would soothe my wounded heart.

Even better, once they were in my possession, I would never need to see him again. I would never again let his face or name cross my mind.

“If you knew I had nothing to do with it, then why do you hate me personally? What did I do to you?” I slammed my fist on the chair arm, fingers trembling in my fist. “That is what you need to get over. We’ll never be able to hide our contempt for each other if you’re stuck on my snobbishness, or rudeness—”

Rhylan closed his eyes briefly, mouthing a count of five. “I was sixteen. I said stupid things.”

“Then act like you’ve gotten over it. I’m willing to let it go if you are. I won’t be a complete bitch if you don’t—if you don’t insult the way I smell.” I exhaled slowly, mastering my anger. “Give me my eyries and my sister’s death, and all is forgiven. For now, we must declare peace with each other.”

He met my eyes, leaning forward to brace his forearms on his thighs. I didn’t look at his large hands, the thin scars he’d collected in the Training Grounds.

Back then, I’d counted every one of them, burning with indignation on his behalf, wishing desperately that I could be the one to kiss them better.

More fool me.

“Peace. We let it go.” He ducked his head. “And I am sorry, truly, about what I said. It was uncalled-for, and I only lost my temper because…because I looked at you, and I knew it was my fault.”

He held out his hand, and I reached out and took it, shaking briefly. That was an apology I could accept.

This time I let go of him first. And at least I was surreptitious when I rubbed my hand against my thigh, trying to erase the warmth of his palm.

“Ahh, the fires of young passion,” Erebos commented wistfully from his supposed nap, and Rhylan and I shot the Ascendant identical looks of outrage and bewilderment.

Nilsa returned, interrupting anything else we might have to say about that nonsense. She carried another tray heaped with food, offering it to me with a sidelong glance at Rhylan and Erebos.

“Good. As our first order of business, we need to work on your strength. Eat all of that,” Rhylan commanded, standing to take a porcelain cup of soup and putting it directly in my hands. I sniffed it; it was a rich bone broth, swirled with cream and dotted with green herbs.

Our argument had broken as abruptly as it’d begun, and seemingly with greater goodwill towards each other.

I would take it. Anything less would end with our deaths.

Rhylan shoved a flaky roll in my other hand and I bit into it, discovering a filling of figs and goat cheese.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, determined to be on better behavior with my manners. Nobody was going to spring out of a dark corner and steal the food from my hands.

Rhylan watched me eat the roll with satisfaction.

“I’m not saying this to be a bastard,” he said carefully, “but you must regain weight.”

I sipped the soup, finding it almost too rich. My stomach clenched. “I know what I look like. I…saw.”

I selected another roll, trying not to think of the skeleton in the mirror.