Jonas~~
It's a few days before I'm feeling well enough to get back to work. In the time that I've been gone, dust has settled onto the wood of my desk. After Andrew's treason, I only allow my office to be cleaned if I'm present in the room.
Colton should be here in a few minutes. I know he's wanting to speak about Vienna. I'm already planning to visit her later about her possibly going to another country and staying out of prison as a way to thank her for the help she rendered me.
I turn over my left arm. The Mark is hidden underneath the layers of the blue sleeve of my linen shirt and a bandage. I didn't expect to feel grief that the numbers that have hunted me my entire life are now ruined. 14. Scratched out of existence. If the rebels had seen my full Mark though—
I close my eyes, letting my hand fall back to my side. What would they have done? Killed me? Exposed me to the country—the world?
I take a seat behind my desk. In the days since I've returned, I haven't had the chance to speak with Iris about France. When I haven't been resting, I've been doing small tasks required of my role as Preeminence.
And Iris, well, she's been overwhelmed by Amoris wanting to see her. When we returned to the Estate, the Amoris who had been imprisoned with me did not keep Iris's Expired status a secret. I'm not sure what the Amorians think makes Iris more of an anomaly—that she's Expired or that she helped save them even though she's Expired.
Whichever it is, they're grateful. And for that, I'm grateful as well.
I've seen her for short periods of time but not long enough to broach the subject of her leaving for France.
But I will tonight. I'm taking her to the cove. Where we—
There's a knock on my door.
I adjust my sleeves. "Come in."
Colton steps inside and shuts the door behind him. "Preeminence."
"Beta."
He seems unsure as he makes his way into one of the two chairs in front of my desk. "I want her exported." So we're jumping right into it.
"A few days ago, you refused to use that word in regard her." I personally though never liked the word exile. It sounds so incredibly final. Something about exported to me sounds less harsh. If that's possible.
He looks at a spot beyond me. "It's easier this way. If she's in Elleany—even in a prison—I know I won't be able to move on."
"Do you know where you would like her to be sent?"
"You decide. I don't want to know where. I don't want to be able to find her."
I lean back in my seat, examining his face: the way his mouth tugs down, the lack of light in his eyes, the lines across his forehead. "You're sure this is what you want?"
His eyes lock onto mine. "Yes." He doesn't blink.
I sigh. "I'll see what I can do then."
"Thank you. What of Erik?"
"I'm leaning toward Exporting him."
"After everything he's done? You truly believe that's the best idea?"
"We'll have a Senate meeting to discuss it."
"You have too much of a soft spot for family."
I rub my fingers back and forth over the wooden armrest, suddenly not quite feeling up to looking at him. "I have a hard time giving up on those who've hurt me."
*****
"My brother wants me to export you, but after all you've done for me, the choice is yours."
Vienna sits in the same chair Colton sat in almost three hours ago. She rubs at the knuckle of her ring finger. "Where?"
"If you have any suggestions, I'll hear them."
"I'll have think about it."
"Does that mean you'll go?"
She continues to rub at her knuckle. "Did he ever tell you we had talked about marriage? What it would be like?"
It's like a hand clamps down over my heart and squeezes. It feels like the hand of guilt, but what have I done to earn it? I'm trying to make the best of an awful situation. "Why did you help me?"
"Weren't we friends in a way?"
"Then why the rebels, Vienna?"
"I had left them once I realized your Order wouldn't be like your father's. But they were going to make Iris steal the book. Someone who never had the option to choose anything other than the rebellion until now. She was someone who finally had freewill given to her, and I couldn't stand to watch it taken away from her—from anyone." She pauses. "Have you told Colton about . . ." Her eyes drop to my arm.
"Not yet. I haven't told him any of it."
"Don't then. Please."
"Even if it could help improve your standing with the Society?"
"It wouldn't be enough. You know that. And Colton, he—he loves me. Knowing what I did will only make it harder for him to let me go."
I bite the inside of my cheek. She's right that it wouldn't be enough; she had been a rebel by choice, betrayed not only her county and the Society but also her family. We haven't been able to find anything pinning them to the rebels. The Rosens took her in, and she turned on them.
"If I stay, how long will I be in prison?"
"That's yet to be determined, but at least a few years."
"And if I'm exported, will that be forever?"
"That will be up to you."
She casts her eyes down and bites her lip. Finally, she says, "If I leave Elleany, might I have one request?"
"Go on."
"Can I see my family first?"
I nod. "I'll make the arrangements."
*****
"What do you think it's like up there?" Iris's eyes are fixed on the sky framed by the trees that encircle my cove. Her arm rests next to mine not quite touching, but only a breath from either of us could change that. The towel beneath our backs provides warmth and a bit of comfort from the sand, cold from the damp air.
"It's full of an endless number of wondrous things that are too far away that it ends up feeling empty."
"Lonely. That's what I think it must feel like."
I nod. "And so vast that you feel like nothing."
Her fingers brush mine, and she turns her head toward me. "When do you think you'll have the chance to go?"
"I imagine sooner than later. If the Orders of Amoria wish to meet the new Preeminence, I'm at their beck and call."
"How many Orders are there?" She rotates onto her side, moving her hands under her ear, and immediately I miss the warmth her skin brought when it was close to mine.
"There are five on Amoria, one on each continent."
Her lips inch up to the side. "I could listen to you go on about it forever."
"You never know. You might find yourself there one day." The moment I say the words, I wish I could take them back. I'm supposed to be asking her about France.
Her smile and the look in her eyes are wistful, her eyes catching on the light of the lantern in the sand above on our heads.
"Iris?"
"Hmm?"
"If you still wish to go to France, I'll arrange it."
She tenses. "Is that what you want me to do?"
"This isn't about what I want."
She rolls onto her back. "The Amoris have been surprisingly accepting of me. The
rest of the Society is still a bit of a toss up."
Despite the Amorians reception to Iris, I have no plans to ever reveal my Mark. Even if it weren't dictated by tradition, Iris has the Amorians' gratitude, and I'm the Preeminence; they won't accept that I allowed myself to live when I'm supposed to be the paragon of every Society rule, tradition, and custom.
"And . . ." She wets her lips. "You know I like you. I couldn't watch you with someone else."
Just the thought of being with someone else right now makes my heart feel as if it's dropped to the bottom of my stomach and my lungs feel like they're full of lead. "What if I made you a promise?"
"As a Preeminence?"
I prop myself up on my arms so that I hover over her. "And as Jonas. I have about a year before I have to be married. Stay with me in Elleany, Iris, and I promise that if we realize it's a marriage we want, that I will do everything in my power to find a way to make it happen."
"But you have to marry an Amoris."
"We're Expired; why shouldn't there be a way?"
"But if there isn't or we . . . decide not to stay together, you still have to marry an Amoris. Can you afford to waste so much time on me?"
"Do you think I see it that way?"
She looks away. "You will if this doesn't work out."
"Iris."
She bites her lip.
"I will never abandon you."
The rise and fall of her chest stops.
"I could never do that. Nor would I ever want to."
She lets her eyes meet mine, and they're glassy with tears.
"I can't tell you this isn't a risk, but it's one I'm willing to take to be able to spend my days with you even if you decide to only make it a few.
"Jonas—" her voice cracks.
"If you want to go to France, I'll accept it. I'll—"
"I'll stay."
My breath catches.
She places her hand on my cheek. "I'll stay."
I move one had closer to her and lean down. "Quotes moleve qui soleil."
She blinks slowly, and it's as if I can see her eyes fill with the understanding her lessons in Amorian have brought her.
My eyes flick to her lips as I lean down until my lips hover just above hers. "I might love you," I say and kiss her.
Her hand slides up my chest before tightening in my shirt.
I move my leg to the other side of her, my body resting over hers as she deepens the kiss, arching underneath me. How easy would it be to remain here and let the rest of the world continue on without us?
I break the kiss to move my mouth to her ear, taking the skin between my teeth and lightly tugging at it.
Iris lets out a noise I never expected to hear from her but that I hope to hear again and again and then again. I press a kiss on the skin underneath her ear where it's sensitive.
She shudders.
"Sot qui halcina"—I kiss lower on her neck—"set bol soleil abree." I never want to let her go.
"Jonas." She moves her hand from my chest, over my shoulder and to my hair where she tangles it around her fingers.
I pull back to look her in the eyes. "You're beautiful." I kiss her nose, her cheek. I feel her smile against my skin. I move, capturing her lips, and she presses herself against me.
Behind us the water laps at the sand, and around us the wind rustles the trees, but the only sound I want to hear is the one that Iris made.
I move back toward her ear but freeze when Iris kisses just under my jaw. I close my eyes as she trails kisses down my neck, stopping when she reaches the collar of my shirt. Instead of continuing her line of kisses, she slips her hand under my shirt, exposing the skin there to the cool night air. She rubs her hand up and then down against my chest and stomach, and the warmth of her hand passing back and forth over my cold skin leaves goosebumps traveling down my arms.
"Don't let me go," she whispers against my neck, her voice quivering. "I can't lose you again." I pull back, meeting her eyes. Tears pool in them, and her jaw trembles. "When I realized you were gone, that they had taken you, I felt as if I were drowning. You could have already been dead at that point, and I hadn't stopped it from happening. I was so angry at you after you told me the truth, and I knew I shouldn't be and that it wasn't really your fault. But I was. Maybe if I wasn't, I would have realized it sooner. Maybe I could have stopped it from happening."
"No." Shaking my head, I move us so we're both on our side and cup her face. "There was nothing you could have done. It was the middle of the night. And it was Erik. This was his home. He probably knows every single hidden passageway and how to get to every safe room." I kiss her forehead. "You had every right to be angry with me. Never think that you didn't."
She places her hand over my bandage, careful not to touch the inner part of my arm. "Your Mark . . ."
"It was what had to happen."
She presses her head against my chest, and I feel her shudder as I wrap my arms around her.
"I've got you," I say.
And I continue to hold her, praying that I never have to let go.