“I used to be the dungeon’s water girl,” Merulina explained. “I can say that there is never a guarantee that a sentry or a servant will not pass through. But if you’re lucky, you can have all the time you need to express your love. We shall see. But—you were right. The risk is mine. The decision is mine. If a guard comes, tell him that you were sent to look for the missing vase.”
I scoffed. “Dorid would never agree that she had said—”
“Not by Dorid,” Merulina hissed. “By me.” With that, she whirled and descended the stairwell to hunt for Altair among the cells. It was almost impossible to see them—an occasional shift in the shadow let me know that a body was moving—but I heard Merulina’s expression of gratitude, and heard Altair join her chorus in surprise. Her silhouette moved to the bars of a dim cage and the torchlight played over her hair, showing me that his fingers had found their way into her tresses.
They kissed, a long, luxurious kiss, as if they had all the time in the world.
I stared after them and thought helplessly of Theon. Our interaction the other night had been so brief…
I wished I could go with Merulina and tell Altair that I knew his brother, if only to in some way be with Theon again by being with his family—to tell him that I was his sister-in-law now, and possibly the queen of The Hearthlands, if they ever became The Hearthlands again. But I didn’t want to ruin their moment. Merulina was gasping with tearful breath—an ice dragoness crying for love, what a beautiful thing—and Altair murmured sweet nothings in her ear… which traveled quite well due to the acoustics of the dungeon.
“I was starting to think I’d never see you again,” he confessed. “It’s been days since a beautiful girl brought me water.”
“Dorid suspected,” Merulina sobbed. “She said I was awfully happy to be doing such abysmal shifts, and perhaps I deserved to be promoted. She was trying to keep us apart—and she succeeded. The only reason I’m here now is that your sister took pity on me… she’s being my lookout right now.”
“You should know that the fire dragons do not have sisters. We are a race without women since the war under my grandfather’s reign.”
“Your sister-in-law,” Merulina answered. “Theon’s wife.”
“Theon’s wife?” echoed in the prison. I resisted the urge to go. I would need to be here, looking, in case a guard approached—
“The new girl, aren’t you?” a voice emanated from behind me, and I jumped, whirling. My heart slammed into my ribcage with every passing second.
“Uh, yes,” I said. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. “I just… it’s so dark down here!” I threw my voice farther to catch Merulina and Altair’s attention, to pull them from their lover’s embrace. “I was supposed to be looking for that missing vase, but—but—I think I lost my way?”
The man behind the blue cloth mask considered me, skeptical, then nodded his head back toward the guard post. “Come with me,” he said. “I’ll take you back to the servants’ quarters. The vase got found already. It was in the library with a different set of finery. Mismatched. Bad housekeeping. But never mind that. The servant responsible was apprehended and punished.” His eyes were cold as he spoke. Apprehended and punished for misplacing a vase. I could only imagine what they’d do to me, much less Merulina, if they knew the truth.
“O-okay,” I said, loudly again. “Thank you!”
I glanced over my shoulder once—I risked it, like a fool—before following the guard up the stairs.
Merulina was gone.
Theon
The stars over the Ixwane Ocean were large and bright, shimmering down onto the beach like photographs, reminders of the sky under which The Hearthlands had once resided. Of course, that land mass was now more often than not covered by clouds. But the stars had not changed—except in position, perhaps.
I had been taught to read the stars when I was younger, but had not taken the time to truly examine them in years. There were enough seers in the castle without needing to use the skill myself. My mother would have been appalled if she had known. But Einhen and I scanned the stars from the ogres’ beach and I thought of Penelope. She was all alone in that castle, being ground to a pulp beneath Michelle’s thumb… And my wife, I felt people failed to realize, was quite resilient. She would not be ground to a pulp, and if she would not be ground to a pulp… she might be returned to the dungeon, to see what the manacles might make of her.
And I couldn’t lose her. I couldn’t lose my father, and Altair, and Penelope, all in the same month. I was resilient too, but not that resilient. I needed something left in my world.