She would suffer for this.
For every day that she lived while he didn’t, she would suffer.
Hazel
I was standing on the top of Tejus’s tower. The morning air was cold, and I shivered despite the two robes I’d taken from my room and wrapped around myself. The tower was the only place that I couldn’t be tempted; by Tejus, by my friends, even my brother. I didn’t dare see Benedict till I had this at least partway under control—right now, it had to be enough just knowing he was safe.
But I was lonely.
I’d never thought what it would be like not to touch people. Why would I? But it was only now that I realized how important it was to have human contact—a friend’s hand, a nudge, a hug. It made all the difference. To be constantly conscious of avoiding brushing against people or getting too close made me feel like I was watching life unfold through a window. I didn’t want every kiss between Tejus and me to end with him in pain, with him weakened. It was the exact opposite of what I wanted. Love should offer you strength, give you a reason to fight harder, to keep going when the odds were against you.
“What are you doing up here?”
Tejus’s voice echoed from the doorway of the tower, and I jumped slightly. The morning silence had been like a blanket muffling the entirety of Hellswan, and I’d been completely lost in it.
“Avoiding people,” I replied ruefully.
I heard him ascending the short steps up to the top of the parapet and turned to face him. I was relieved to see some color in his cheeks for the first time in a while—he had obviously slept well, and although the gaunt, hungry look hadn’t left his face (and I doubted that it ever really would), he didn’t seem to be suffering from my syphoning last night…
“Did you sleep in my emerald room?” I asked curiously. When I’d first arrived in Hellswan, Tejus had made me sleep in his small cubby hole of a room containing energy crystals that were intended to sharpen my mind.
“I didn’t sleep there, no. But I did visit.”
“No, of course not—wouldn’t catch you sleeping in there, right?” I mocked.
He came to stand beside me, both of us turning to look out onto the kingdom. I moved over a bit, making sure I kept an arm’s length distance between us.
“I’m glad you’re here though.” I smiled.
“I often choose to avoid people, though for very different reasons,” he muttered.
“You surprise me,“ I replied, rolling my eyes.
His reply made me smile despite myself. It was so typical of Tejus—his taciturn nature had gotten us into this stupid situation to begin with, but it also always drew me to him. It made me want to know what it was that he held back, having to rely on my instincts to know what he was feeling, having to learn to be honest enough for the both of us.
“I wanted you to have this,” he continued, taking an object from his belt and holding it out in front of me. It was a dagger – the blade sheathed, with a beautiful, ornately carved, golden handle that resembled a serpent. The pommel had been made to look like the serpent’s mouth – between its curved fangs, a brilliant ice-blue stone was held in its mouth. It looked as if a white light was emanating from the stone’s very center, clearer and more bright than anything I’d ever seen.
Cautiously, careful not to touch him, I raised my hand to take the dagger by the handle.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed. “What is it?”
“A mercy dagger. It belonged to my mother.”
I handed it back to him quickly.
“I can’t, Tejus—”
“You can. Please—I want you to have it.”
He pushed the dagger toward me again, and this time I took it. It was heavier than I expected, and up close, more beautiful. I removed the blade from its sheath, marveling at its elegant curvature – a subtle ‘s’ shape that seemed strangely feminine.
“It’s not from a lock, is it?” I joked lamely, referring to the stone in the pommel, feeling awkward at the magnitude of the gift.
“No.”
“Thank you,” I replied hesitantly. “You said it was a mercy dagger…what does that mean?”
I had never heard of such an instrument, and never seen a dagger fashioned quite like this one.
“Mercy daggers were made for ceremonial deaths – putting the target out of their misery as quickly as possible, as the blade is always supposed to be used in such a way that the tip reaches up toward the heart. My mother kept it as her only weapon. Her great grand-mother gave it to her. The Ameroy women have kept it in the family for centuries.”
“The Ameroy women?” I questioned. I’d never heard Tejus mention that name before.