by Evie Manieri
Orina asked.
Of course, gossip like that would have spread like a mattress fire, and yet Rho had still been the last to know. He would have banged his head against the wall if he hadn’t been so afraid of making a noise.
Orina declined and rattled off some obligatory words of thanks for the interview. Rho saw the big emerald ring on her finger flash as she headed toward the door.
Kira collapsed into her chair as soon as the door closed and Rho felt her weariness like a weight on his chest.
she told Aline. The complete shift in her tone and manner stopped Rho with his hand against the door.
Rho came through the door.
Rho could feel the defiance leaking out from between the cracks of the girl’s modest demeanor, though what she must once have considered a good idea had apparently lost some of its luster.
Aline tailed off and twisted her hands together.
Kira went over to her and patted her back.
Aline pointed at Rho.
Chapter 18
Kira felt Rho’s horror on the other side of Aline’s pointing finger and wished the ceiling would just fall in and crush them all.
He looked like he hadn’t slept at all, and he stood in the middle of her carpet like an ursa who’d been pulled from his cave in the wrong season.
Kira waited for her to leave, with Rho staring at her as if he expected her to burst into flames. As soon as the door closed behind Aline, he went to the little table where her half-eaten breakfast had yet to be cleared.
Rho lifted up the wine jug and turned it around for a better look. Trey had sent it back from one of his campaigns. It had a decorative spout made to look like the head of some goat-like creature with whimsically curled horns.
He made a noise—it was a small noise, but she had never heard any Norlander make any sound like it before. He set the cup and jug back down very deliberately, then his distress swept through the room like black smoke flooding in from behind a newly opened door. Kira couldn’t breathe; she hunched over in her chair and tried to wall herself off from him, but she couldn’t escape the crushing pressure of his shock.
She told him what had happened that day in the forest; about how Trey had begged to be left to die with whatever honor was left to him, and how Gannon and the others had dragged her away. Then she told him about going back. Rho stayed at the table, saying nothing. He didn’t move when she finished. He just stood there with his fingers moving over the glazed pottery, wiping up a few beads of wine that had dripped down the side.
The dishes rattled as Rho pushed himself away from the table.
Rho stepped back away from her and she could feel him trying to leash his emotions, but he kicked the leg of the dressing table with enough force to send the items closest to the edge tipping over and rolling onto the floor.
said Rho.
Kira rode out the pause, pretending to wait for him to say something more.
Kira shot back.
Kira’s jaw was beginning to ache from clenching her teeth.
she said.
said Rho, apparently more interested in the tapestry on the back wall than in the topic he had raised.
Rho paled and then flushed in quick succession. he said.
pins to the floor. She tested the blade on the silk covering of the dressing table before raising it to her cheek.
Kira stopped. It really would be that easy. Anyone with an ounce of real courage would have done it from the very beginning. Her own image stared back accusingly from the mirror: flushed, wild-eyed, hair askew. She had abandoned her husband to the care of strangers and then gone right back to her safe, comfortable life. She wasn’t protecting Trey; she was keeping him trapped like a fish in a bowl so she could have some way of living with herself. The blade flashed in the firelight as she pressed the flat against her sharp cheekbone, and then pressed down harder until blood welled up in a single fat drop. A heartbeat later, a quick flash of pain burned across her face and she gasped.
Rho’s dark shape streaked by in the mirror and he seized her forearm with enough force to yank her up out of the chair, then he dug his fingers into her wrist and twisted until she had no choice but to drop the knife. She sank back down onto the floor when he finally let her go, feeling the drop of cool blood running down her neck and under the collar of her shirt.
He sat down across from her, heavily, as if his legs had given out, and tossed her knife away. The perfume from a broken bottle laced the air between them with the scent of some exotic flower. Neither of them moved at all until a loud snap from the fire made them both jump.
Kira responded.