Page 162 of Scourged
“You’ve always spoken of history differently than you do other things. You read, but not the fictions that Sebastian does. It’s always some old text, legends from a time long passed. So … why? Of all subjects to be drawn to, why that one?”
He hummed as he resumed his ministrations, massaging the skin of her scalp. “I think that answer is far more complicated than the question,nio.”
She twisted, meeting his gaze over her shoulder. Her expression was open and vulnerable, and it squeezed something in his heart.
“I have time.”
He chuckled. “Alright.” Placated, she turned back. He ran a handful of water over her hair, rinsing out the suds.
“When I was a boy … life was not simple. Or easy. I was a lord’s son, an heir to a Royal house, but that guaranteed me no luxuries. I had to be the strongest, the most well-spoken, thebest. Perfect. I started training at eight with the armsmaster. That was when I got my first blisters, my first lashings. They were never terrible, never enough to permanently mar me, but just enough to cause lasting pain.” He took a breath. “I had lessons with the librarians every day in the afternoon after training. And even though every muscle in my body hurt, I still loved those lessons. Especially the ones on history.”
The memories washed over him, some of the only good ones he had of his childhood, and he smiled.
“There was one book.A History of Dragons.It was the subject of our lesson one day, but I never wanted it to stop there. It was the first time I truly escaped that castle, lost in the past when great dragons walked the earth, epic battles waged and terrible enemies defeated.”
He gripped her head between his hands, tipping her back until her hair met the water and her eyes stared up at him. Her gaze searched his as he rinsed out the shampoo before letting her sit up. Still running his hands through her soft hair, unable to stop, he continued.
“When I was Marked, I kept the habit. Brought my favorite books with me when I moved to Verith. Our lessons continued, and history was always my favorite. I would spend my free time in the library, lost in the dustiest, most ancient texts I could find.”
Slowly, begrudgingly, his hands untangled themselves from her hair. She twisted, her hip pressed against his leg, her arms folded in her lap beneath the surface.
“I wish I had known you then,” she said quietly. Those eyes were still so open. So painfully brilliant.
He chuckled, low and dark. “No,nio. You don’t. I was moody and standoffish.”
“Right.” Her words were dry. “Because you’re so bright and bubbly now.”
She had a point. Still, he let his jaw drop, pasting his best attempt at an aghast expression on his face. “Me? I am an absolute delight, princess. The life of every party.”
She giggled, and the sound was light enough to lift his soul, cracking it in half, just a bit more.
If there was any part of Andrian that didn’t already belong to her, it disappeared with that giggle.
He smiled and brushed a hand down the side of her face. Water dripped across her cheek, splashing onto her shoulder, her green eyes shimmering with the silver-gold of her magic.
“What about you,nio?” His question was barely more than a whisper. “Beyond the horse and the dagger, what did younger you find happiness with?”
Mariah smiled, a little shyly. “You mean, before I turned eighteen and found the taverns?” That smile faltered, and she glanced away.
“Yes,” was all he said. She looked back at him, and he elaborated. “Your past doesn’t matter to me, Mariah. I know you were unhappy in that place, so you did what you could to create a semblance of freedom for yourself. I could never fault you for that.”
That shy smile returned. “If you say so,” she murmured, shifting against him.
Mariah hesitated again, but another brush of his fingers across her cheek, down her arm, was all the encouragement she needed. She leaned back against him, tucking the top of her head beneath his chin. She heaved a contented sigh.
That unfamiliar place in his chest where his heart resided squeezed painfully, enough to hold his breath in his lungs.
“Well,” she began, her sweet breath tickling his chest. “I loved—love—Kodie. And I loved the Ivory Forest. Most of my days were spent lost between the aspen and spruce trees, watching the birds overhead or trying to chase the rabbitsthrough the underbrush. But I think most of my happiness, mytruehappiness, was found with my family.”
That wasn’t a surprise to Andrian. He remembered those nights, just a few months ago, when she’d told him stories from home. All stories of her family—her healer mother, her soldier father, and her younger brother who was still learning his place in the world.
“I had no friends in Andburgh,” she continued, “mostly by choice. So, my only real companions were my family. Mornings on the training pitch with my father. Afternoons hunting in the woods with my brother. And stolen moments with my mother sprinkled between the two.” She drew in a heavy breath. “I wish … I wish I had asked her more questions. Had learned more from her. She left me that book, that journal she said would hold all the answers, but ever since … since we got back, I’ve only been brave enough to open it once.” She shuddered, and a twinge of curiosity picked at his mind.
“Never again, though. Whatever answers it might carry, I don’t want them. But I think about her. Far more often than I probably should. And I know there are things only she can tell me, things that might help us figure out all the bullshit that happened on the Solstice. But …”
“Fear,” he finished, reaching for her hand. She looked up and he met her gaze. “But you’re afraid of what you might find.”
Her answering smile was tight. “I’ve been afraid of a lot lately.” Frustration twisted her mouth into a frown. “I’ve never been afraid before. I don’t know how to deal with it.” Her eyes flickered. “But … I faced it with you, so perhaps I’m learning.”