The Empty Ones (Fantasy Romance)

76. Stupid things one wants

"Qué querías que hiciera delante de toda esa gente?/ What did you want me to do in front of all those people...?" he says in quizeh. His voice is even richer in his native language.

"No... no lo se./ I... I don't know." It makes sense. Like this even less people can understand.

"You don't know? Then what is the matter? Why so serious? Should you not be happy?" The last sentence bears a slight sarcastic inflexion, so slight it's almost imperceptible if you wouldn't know him, if you wouldn't have spend most of the time in the past moons reminiscing the way he speaks.

I don't answer. I don't know what to say. His breath is still fanning the side of my neck and his arms are coiled around me. He is wearing long sleeves and... Gloves. That shows his intention when he came here. He wasn't wearing them at the party.

"Laini told me you-"

"I don't know if it worked." I cut him off. "Those are only rumors. I made an aphrodisiac for females, to help Laini, because you were gone... and I thought that if it feels better and they are more willing they are more likely to get with child."

"More willing?" His voice has again an odd inflexion.

"Yes. You said it's not supposed to be horrible and painful. And I believed you and thought: what can be done about it? It's the reverse of the potion they have in the brothels to avoid pregnancy mixed with some ingredients I have been told are used for males."

"It's not the worst idea," he says. There is approval in his voice, very matter of factly.

"I made three versions. Two seemed to have no effect but the third gave me weird dreams. So I thought it might work."

"And, did it?" This time his tone is ambiguous, maybe a bit spiteful but also very damn sensual, so close to my ear I feel it in my whole body.

"I don't know. I hope not," I whisper, like a confession also to myself.

"Oh, Zara." He sighs slightly, and one of his hands brush strands of hair behind my left ear.

"What? What do you care? I was clearly the last thing on your mind."

While you were on mine every damn day. I refrain from saying.

"I can help you know for certain."

"I will, latest in a few blue moons," I say, wanting to state that I don't need or want his help. Not in this way.

"Or. I can help make you not be if you don't want to be," he adds.

My heart sinks.

He lets go of me and makes me turn and face him.

"You make me feel all types of ungodly feelings. And maybe I shouldn't have said that but I was thinking an unhealthy amount of times about what could become of you if you weren't shackled."

"Why are you saying these things now?" My voice is almost inaudible. "Do you have any idea what you did to me?"

"I am sorry. I know it's not good to think about things we cannot change."

His expression is drained, like I have never seen him.

"You made me feel alive for the first time since I got to this gods forsaken place and then you leave and come back and act as if I never existed. I know you might not care but I cannot help hurting! My head is so consumed by alchemy, nanite and all those things that could make this world better and fucking hope! And you! You did this to me!" I can't help my voice becoming louder.