Atalanta

Part 9

• Y/N •

The hallway is silent, as opposed to the gardens when we enter them. Out here, the night air is alive. Crickets chirp, insects buzz and the wind whistles, forlorn through the trees. It is nice, this quiet between us. Lately, I have done so much speaking, I seem to have forgotten how to breathe.

The unrest in the Province stems from two sources. One, the nobles of Dietas, who are incensed one of their own was not chosen for marriage. My mother and father have done their best to calm them and most who have met Jimin have come around on the engagement but there are many who have not yet met him.

Jimin and I know Menelaus to be the cause. He hides behind noble friends, stoking distrust and making my rule more difficult. This problem will not be easily solved, cannot be until Menelaus is dealt with, but even then, I fear – rightly so – there will be no easy remedy. Menelaus wanted the crown and now, he cannot have it.

The second cause of unrest is the goddess herself. Artemis has been quiet, too quiet. I do not trust her; I am not foolish enough to think because she is silent, she has disappeared completely. I still have my speed – I have tested this and know it to be true. So long as I am indebted to Artemis, she will consider me hers.

She will come for me and my vow; it is only a matter of time.

But still, I allow Jimin's hand slip into mine and lead me through the gardens. The past few weeks have been so full of worry; it is a relief to exhale and push all things aside. It is not healthy to ignore my problems, but it is tempting – oh, so tempting. Besides, I cannot imagine things could get any worse.

I wince, remembering how the gods love to play with absolutes. It is never a good idea to say them out loud – barely even safe to confess them internally.

Paused in the rose garden, Jimin trails a finger over a flower. Turning around, he plucks one from its stem and offers it freely. Despite myself, my cheeks heat and I feel the world tilt. This seems an unfortunate side effect of having Jimin around. My thoughts are sluggish, fuzzy and I forget about the possible – I only want him.

However much time I have of him, I will take.

Jimin seems to sense my hesitation. "What is it?" he says, transferring the delicate stem to my hand.

Mercifully, the night is dark – I look up and see pinpricks of stars shining down. "Why do you assume I have something to say?"

"Because I have met you before."

"Unfair." I laugh, looking away.

Jimin smiles and laughs too; a low, easy sound. Taking my hand again, his index finger brushes my palm as we walk – deeper into the gardens until eventually, I speak.

"You are right," I say, forcing the words from my throat. "I do have something I want to say to you."

The lines of his shoulders tense. Despite being correct, Jimin can hear my foreboding. "Oh?"

It takes another few steps before I gather the strength to continue. "I do not know how to say it," I murmur, still not looking at him.

"Hm." The noise is non-committal, but Jimin wraps his hand tighter. He is the one leading me now, without knowing where he is going. "Could you mime it?"

I groan, pretending to leave but Jimin laughs and tugs me closer. I do not protest, steps faltering as I lower my head to his shoulder. Jimin's feet falter beneath him, struck by the contact. He recovers admirably, continuing to walk and – as though carved from a dream – I look up to see a curved, opal dome.