Page 16 of Ashes of Aether
He places his finger on my lips, hushing me. “I’ve loved you for as long as I remember. And it’s only when I’m with you that... that I forget...”
That he is a necromancer’s son. That he watched his father commit atrocities in an attempt to resurrect his mother.
Though I silently finish his sentence, he doesn’t voice the words. And I don’t expect him to. I hate the tortured look in his eyes as he relives his darkest memories. His father’s most horrifying experiments.
I pull his finger from my lips and then kiss him, hoping it will banish the nightmares afflicting him.
But Arluin stares at the wardrobe. Even when my lips trail across his jawline and down his neck, he barely reacts to my touch.
Realizing my efforts are in vain, I kiss his nose and say, “Arly, we can’t change the past. We can only shape the future.”
My words have more effect. He snaps to life and clasps my face so tightly it’s as if he fears I will slip away.
“Marry me,” he gasps. “Please marry me, Reyna. I can’t bear the thought of ever being without you.”
My heart makes a giddy flutter. This must be the promise he wished to make.
“Of course I’ll marry you,” I say. “Who else would put up with my drunken antics?”
The attempt at a joke seems to go unnoticed. His expression remains serious.
“We’ll marry each other after you graduate from the Arcanium. By then, I will have been a qualified mage for two years and will hopefully have a good career ahead of me—”
I brush a low hanging curl from his face. “You know I’d marry you tomorrow.”
“Reyna, your father will never allow that. It would be too great a distraction from your studies.”
“I’m eighteen now,” I say with a shrug. “By law, I no longer require parental permission to marry. I’ll come and live with you. I spend most of my nights here, anyway.”
“I can’t do that, Reyna. I’ll be lucky if he even lets me marry you.” He pauses, chewing on his lip. “Do you think he will?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
His shoulders sink. “Because of my father.” His voice is so quiet it’s barely audible.
“Arluin, you are not your father.”
“Maybe you don’t see the shadow of my father when you look at me, but everyone else does. Behind my back they whisper about how I will follow in my father’s footsteps, how I too will become a necromancer. Even your father.”
“No, he doesn’t,” I say, and hope he can’t see through my lie. I know every time my father gazes upon Arluin, he is reminded of his oldest friend’s treachery.
Arluin doesn’t argue with me. A brief silence stretches between us. He glances down at the locket and finally says, “Anyway, this is the promise I wanted to make. I will marry you when we’ve both graduated from the Arcanium. I swear it.”
Though I would rather marry him tomorrow than in three years, I don’t protest any further. It doesn’t matter when we marry, so long as we do.
“Then I will wear this locket every day, as my promise to you,” I say. “And we’d better have the most extravagant wedding Nolderan has ever seen.”
That brings a smile to his lips,. “If you want an extravagant wedding, then an extravagant wedding we shall have.”
I return his smile.
“Terminir,” he mutters. The memory crystal ceases to glow, and he closes the locket.
Arluin leans behind me and sweeps away my hair. He secures the locket around my neck, and his fingers tickle me as they brush over my skin.
When the necklace is fastened, he turns back to me and takes my hand in his. “I promise,” he whispers, “I will marry you—”
I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. He is at first caught off-guard, but he soon reciprocates and kisses me back with as much vigor. Our lips move in time to one another’s, and we kiss each other as though we are starved for air.