The Shattered Circle

33. Aleyr's Secret

Shira scowled at the text she was reading beside me on the couch, late night oil burning in the lamp on the end table. It had only been a week since our talk, but I realized I was much more attentive to her moods than I'd been willing to admit to myself—and much more sympathetic. We had seen each other relatively little, only glances full of meaning traded in the halls as I carried out my duties as the ruler of the Winter Palace and she studied. Now, though, I was her pillow with an arm draped over her waist as she laid with her head in my lap. I was mostly asleep...and still I heard her huff of frustration. Her arcane tutor had been testing her for most of the day, with no chance for us to practice. I had thrown myself into training with Vex just to earn dozens of bruises and aching muscles for my trouble.

If Vex suspected anything further had happened, she had said nothing of it. Haven kept his peace as well.

"It will come to you in the morning, blossom," I whispered, brushing some strands of hair back behind her ear. The gesture sparked a rather impressive blush.

I expected her to ignore me and refocus on her studies, but instead Shira marked her page and set the book aside, rolling onto her back to look up at me. Such a small movement, a simple gesture, but I realized without her saying a word that I meant more to her than the arcane scribblings in the book did. She reached up tentatively, fingertips touching my cheek as softly as owl feathers brush against the night air.

You look tired, Aleyr, she signed with her other hand.

"World weary, perhaps." These little moments meant more to me than any declaration, closeness and warmth absent so long from my life.

Shira seemed to sense I had no desire to elaborate on my exhaustion and changed the subject. I like it when you play with my hair. The confession came with a shyness, her gaze evading mine.

I smiled faintly and ran my fingers through her hair, earning a small shiver from her. Shira relaxed slowly as I curled locks around my fingers, braiding and then smoothing back out. My short nails against her scalp seemed to relax her the most, just combing through her hair. I watched her eyelids flutter and sink as her muscles unwound and all the tension in her jaw started to ease. "Have you ever let anyone do this before?"

No, she signed. Not like this.

How I had missed such fragile little moments. I felt more peace sitting and playing with her hair than I had in centuries. "I did not expect you to leave your studies for me."

They will be there in the morning, as you said. You're right here.

"Not all would think that way," I said, turning my head towards her hand. I pressed a kiss to her palm as it lingered near my cheek.

Shira hesitated. I knew she could tell she was treading near a wound left by the King in Black, by the man He had once been. I felt it too, an ache in my chest spreading with every remembered night alone. I did not expect such sweetness from you, she signed, treading so carefully around my grief.

I considered that, still playing with her hair. "I was not always Aleyr Frostborn, Butcher of Stonepoint, Beloved of the King in Black," I said, noting the way conflict flashed through her eyes at the mention of where her brother had died. "Once upon a time, there was a young woman who loved so fiercely she destroyed herself."

I don't want you to destroy yourself.

A small, barely there smile touched my lips. The chains of Fate seemed to tighten around me, reminding me of my place. I could break them for others, but still not myself. "It is too late for that, blossom."

She moved her hand from my face to over my heart, pressing against my breastbone with her fingertips. There is goodness inside of you. Light. I can feel it when you touch me. Trust me when I say there will be another way. The gods–