Chapter 26

I t was exam day for the Adept levels. Ezzyn wanted to do something for her, acknowledge it in a small way. Anything to let Anadae know that someone else knew how important today was to her. Someone who wished her well.

That couldn’t be him. He’d destroyed any right to count himself amongst such company. Anadae had friends to cheer her. For Ezzyn to think that any gesture from him would be welcomed, no. Utter foolishness. She’d avoided him, hadn’t said more than a handful of words since her declaration that they needn’t speak. His sacrifices for Rhell might’ve secured her spellwork, but at so high a cost…

He told himself it was worth it. The kingdom had an actionable plan to deploy the imbued wards. The Rhell Accord was being finalized, Ezzyn having bowed to its wisdom at last. Grudgingly so, but taking a break from the onslaught of fighting the poison in the field had given him time to clear his head. Helped him realize that the interdisciplinary aim of the Rhell Accord was needed. He still had his doubts; it was difficult to erase years of ambivalence from the other countries and go forth with a hopeful heart. Ezzyn would never forget how some voices amongst the Alliance had forsaken Rhell and suggested plans for accommodating them as eventual refugees. Yet, for the time being, Rhell’s future had a breath of hope.

And Anadae would leave him behind.

Ezzyn started down the stairs to the Towers’ atrium floor, thinking he would wander off to find food—somewhere on Sylveren’s grounds, since most of the Adept levels would likely go into town for celebration or commiseration. Best not take the chance of stumbling across Anadae and ruining her night.

He glanced out of the large windows that spanned the front of the atrium. The rain from this morning had let up, a few patches of blue sky showing through the clouds. Movement in the courtyard caught his eye as a blond man jabbed the air with wild gestures, arguing with a woman in a familiar indigo cloak.

Ezzyn’s pace quickened. He was still a flight from the bottom when Avenor grabbed her. The bastard shook her. Ezzyn raced down, flames itching beneath his skin. He ran across the lobby, uncaring of the startled looks he drew from the few students still around. Burst through the door—

He stumbled to a halt. Anadae advanced on a cowering Avenor, a glimmer of light around her fingers visible despite the distance. Avenor pointed at her, and a jumble of noise reached Ezzyn’s ears. Avenor began gesturing again, his movements sharp, agitated. Anadae stopped, looked around.

She ran.

Ezzyn didn’t think. He went after her, following the path to the lake. He called after her, but she gave no sign of hearing, didn’t slow her step until she reached the water’s edge.

Warily, he approached, voice kept low as if she was a spooked horse. “Anadae?”

As if in a trance, her head turned to him, more out of habit in responding to her name than out of recognition. Her expression was dazed, eyes not truly seeing.

“Are you hurt?” Ezzyn asked, stopping a few feet away, willing himself to show restraint when everything in him screamed to hold her.

A faint shake of her head came in answer.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I—oh Goddess fuck,” she whispered. “I attacked him. In front of everyone.” A hoarse laugh bubbled up.

A smile tugged at his lips. “Good.”

“Good?” Anadae blinked, awareness flickering in her eyes. “How is that good?”

“I’m sure he deserved it.”

“He threatened my…” Her head jerked with a small shake. When she looked at him again, her expression had flattened, the dazed sensation and temporary reprieve it had enabled between them now gone. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw him—I thought you were—” Ezzyn flailed for suitable words.

Contempt laced her exhale. “I don’t need you to save me, Ezzyn.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I…”

Anadae’s brows slowly went up, a guardedness on her face as she waited, offering nothing.

“I was cruel, in Den’olm. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I said things that were…” His voice failed him.

“That were what?” she said. “Untrue?”

There was hope in her voice. Cautious, but present. A fervent wish for him to burn away the doubt, to affirm the suspicions she’d had from the start. For Ezzyn to admit that he’d misled her, but not in the way he’d said that night. Not in a way that mattered, that rendered him unforgivable.

Because calling what they’d had a mere arrangement had always been bullshit, and he wanted her. Wanted to find a way to make it all work, and if he just told her that, she would help him. If the attraction was mutual, if they cared about each other, then whatever fears he had were things that could be solved. He could love her and his homeland. There was room in him for both.

Room that wouldn’t be equal. He’d already shown that when he’d tried to split himself in two; he only made things worse. Anadae deserved better. In the end, Ezzyn was just another flavor of Avenor.

“No,” he murmured. “But I’m sorry that I caused you pain.”

Disappointment pinched her features.

“I didn’t want to,” he said. “If I could’ve found—”

“Did you mean it?” Anadae looked out over the lake. She lifted a hand, calling a trickle of water up to twine around her fingers. “Any of it?”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“About being just you, leaving the baggage. About how I’ve already proven that I belong here. That you weren’t just saying it so I’d sleep with you.” She flicked her fingers, shedding the water back to the ground. “Was any of it real?”

“Yes.” The word pulled itself from him.

“Then why, Ezzyn? Why would you, you”—her voice wavered— “cheat for me? How could you think that I would want that?”

His ultimate betrayal, what truly made him so like the others in her life. Her parents. Avenor. Probably a dozen more from her life in Central. She’d shared with him her hopes for this new life, and he’d disregarded them. Worse, imposed his own will as he saw fit.

At least, that was what she thought. He could restore a little of her faith in him. It wouldn’t change the impossibility of them, but Anadae could know that, for all of his failings, he had believed in her. He’d believed she had a place here for years.

“I did—” Ezzyn faltered, sighed. Anadae deserved to be rid of him. “I did what I thought was best for Rhell.”

“I want to stop the poison, too. I want to use my magic for this.”

“I know,” Ezzyn said, voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t leave anything to chance. I believe you, but—”

“Then why didn’t you say something? I was in that lab with you often enough!” she cried. “You helped me with my proposal. You let me use your work! When the poison broke through in Den’olm and everything was so much worse than any of us down here knew, why didn’t you bring it up then? Why didn’t you tell me you were worried?”

Ezzyn stared at the ground.

“Did you really think I’d be such a precious bitch about it when a town was at stake?”

“You wanted to earn this on your own,” he said. “You were worried that I had any influence on the spring trip.”

“And you said no.”

“You were relieved when I said it!” Ezzyn’s hands were shaking, grasping, anything to try and make her see. To understand. “I couldn’t risk you saying no. I am sorry that I betrayed your trust, but Rhell is—”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Her voice shook, thick with tears she held back, anger and heartbreak in every word.

“I don’t know.” Ezzyn shrugged, helpless, hands spread in front of him. “I was trying to respect your wishes as best I could. Show I believed in you.”

“By making sure everything was handed to me in secret?” Anadae wiped her eyes. “I didn’t need your unconditional belief. I needed you not to lie. That would’ve been enough.”

“I’m sorry.”

She turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself.

Ezzyn started to reach out but caught himself, let his hand drop back to his side. Useless.

“There’s only a few days left, and I’m preparing to return to Rhell,” he said. “There’s no need to finish out the assistantship. I’ll handle it with the administration.”

She didn’t acknowledge him.

“Goodbye, Anadae,” Ezzyn murmured before turning back toward the university.

She said nothing in reply.