Thread of Frost

Ch. 30: A Damning, Indisputable Thing

A tiny bud unfurled in her chest. A fragile glimmer of hope.

"We'll see," Anna said.

***

"You're distracted," Ryne said.

Anna picked up a glass of water. They were standing in the dusty storage room; grey light filtered through the window, tarnishing the leatherbound books and silver-plated trays. She couldn't hear the rain from this part of the citadel, but she knew it was there; it was a constant in their lives these days, as predictable as the morning church bells and the evening prayer song that drifted over the cliffs.

Anna raised the glass to her lips. Pain lanced through her ribcage, and she lowered it, turning away so that Ryne couldn't see her face.

"We should have news by now," she said.

She could hear the frown in Ryne's voice. "It's only been a few hours."

"How long do these things take?"

"A while." Ryne picked up a glass scepter, weighing it in his hand. "I once held a council meeting that took three days. Someone flipped a table. Another person cried. The whole thing ended with one councillor throwing a boot at another one's head. I thought they were going to kill each other."

Anna set down her glass. "What was the debate over?"

"Whether buttered parsnips should be on the spring menu." Ryne poked her with the glass scepter. "You look terrible."

Her smile was wry. "Charming as always, Delafort."

Carefully, Anna lowered herself into a seat. They'd been practicing for hours: Ryne, advancing with his magic, and Anna, trying to fend him off. Not, Anna thought with a surge of frustration, that she'd been particularly successful; Ryne had convinced her to dance on a table, and crawl across the floor, and beg on her knees for a biscuit. It was only on the fourth time that she'd managed to shake him off.

Anna looked down at her hands; her fingers were trembling, and she laced them together. Ryne set down the scepter.

"Did you sleep last night?" Ryne asked.

Her voice was wary. "You seem unusually interested in my welfare."

"Of course I am," Ryne said. "We're allies now."

His green eyes were polished coins in the dim light. Dark hair fell into Ryne's flushed face, and his collar was damp with sweat. He looked so alive, Anna thought; she hadn't realized how much the last few years had sanded away at him until now. It was like realizing that you'd been staring at a watery reflection of something. The shadow of a person.

"Is that what we are?" Anna asked softly. "Allies?"

Her lungs felt like they were on fire. She thought of the look of blazing fury on Ryne's face as he'd stormed into that tower, the words that he'd said to her standing on the deck of the ship. Before I met you, I thought I was living, but now I realize that it was only a shadow of a life. This is real life. You and me. Here.

And then there was the curse.

The one damning, indisputable thing. The proof of something that Anna had yet to acknowledge to herself.

Ryne's throat bobbed. "Cidarius, I—"

Someone knocked on the door.

Anna squared her shoulders. "Come in."

Althea stepped through the door. Her dark hair was escaping its braid, and her eyes were red-rimmed. "We've made our decision."

"Is it good news?" Anna asked.