FLASHBACK
Kalliope & Sjan-dehk
Part 2
Time: Morning, Ignis 8
Location: A cove off coast of Sorian
A loud, girlish laugh caught his attention.
He looked towards Sada Kurau. In front of her—well away from where most of the work was being carried out, thankfully—were the arcanists. Whatever tomfoolery Inshahri had planned to get up to had apparently been forgotten. The girl herself, also the source of the laughter, was hauling Tehwasang to her feet, who’d tripped and fallen face-first into the sand. Not too far away, Hasehnya lay sprawled on the ground, the rise and fall of her chest visible even to Sjan-dehk. Sitting beside her was Yasawen, the boy’s tiredness almost as obvious.
It was a peaceful sight, really, one that warmed Sjan-dehk’s heart.
And yet, it also reminded him of a harsh truth.
“But since you asked…” he began, trailing off as he considered his words.
“One thing on my mind is, well, them—” he gestured towards the arcanists
“—and the laws of your land. For a start, burning someone just because they can use magic is just wrong by any…Well, I suppose I should say by Viserjantan standards, but I’m really struggling to think of another place that burns people for their nature. I think the last time the Commonwealth had a witchhunt, it was still an empire, or something along those lines. It happened a long time ago, in any case. Long before we Jafins became Viserjantans.”He shook his head.
“But anyway, I’m just worried about them. Yasa, Shahri, Tehwa, Hasehnya…And every other arcanist aboard Sudah. If Shahri’s proved anything, it’s that if someone’s determined enough, they’ll find a way to sneak ashore. We can order our ships to anchor off-shore, or even anchor them somewhere else entirely, but someone’s going to find a way to end up in Sorian, I can feel it in my gut. And if the worst happens, and that someone gets burned…”A heavy sigh, one that carried more worry than frustration, left his lips and nose. He could already imagine the outrage that’d sweep through Sudah and Sada Kurau if any member of their crew got executed for the so-called crime of possessing magic. They’d certainly have to make a hasty return to the Commonwealth, and news of Caesonia’s witch hunts became public knowledge, it’d be anyone’s guess what would happen next. Sjan-dehk had a feeling that it’d likely involve force.
“It’ll not be good, is what I’m saying.”He cleared his throat. So much for their moment of levity—he’d just wasted Kalliope’s efforts in lightening the mood by introducing an even heavier topic.
“But they’re just my thoughts, and I think a lot,” he said, his words rushed.
“At least for now, there’s not a chance that would happen. We’re not returning to Sorian any time soon. Not in the next day or two, at least, so unless someone learns to fly or teleport, nobody’s going to be sneaking ashore. So we can all take it easy for now.”Realising that his plate was still markedly empty, Sjan-dehk busied himself with piling it high with fish, rice, and vegetables.
“We haven’t properly explored the island yet,” he said, and straightened his back, looking up and down the beach.
“So I can’t say if there’s any place to swim, but I’m sure we can find a quiet place or an isolated patch of water for you to soak yourself.”Then, he turned to face Kalliope, his expression soft and gentle, and his smile warm.
“And you don’t have to tell me about…Well, about anything, really, if you’re not ready. You’ve only just started moving about, so I’d rather not have you start worrying over these things. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here to listen. But until then, just rest, relax, and enjoy yourself today. You’re safe and among friends here.”Kalliope listened quietly, her chopsticks navigating the mountain of food he had compiled for her. She managed to gather a piece of the salted fish, chewing slowly as his final words washed over her. She swallowed, setting her plate down in her lap, her expression turning somber but resolute.
“I hear you, Sjan-dehk,” she said, her voice dropping to a serious, quiet register.
“And I know you want me to just rest. But I do need to tell you about... about everything. In time. You didn't just pull me out of a warehouse; you and your crew painted massive targets on your backs to do it. You deserve to know exactly why I was taken, who Hafiz really is, and what you need to expect moving forward. I won't keep you in the dark when you risked everything to bring me into the light.”She took a breath, letting her gaze drift back out to the young arcanists on the sand before transitioning back to his worries.
“But regarding your arcanists... you're entirely right to worry. Magic is viewed as one of the ultimate, unforgivable crimes in this country. The people here are absolutely terrified of it, mostly because they've never been allowed to understand it.”She picked up a slice of pickled carrot, turning it over with her chopsticks before eating it.
“The history preached to us from the cradle—in Caesonia, Varian, and Alidasht alike—is that centuries ago, too many people abused magic, and it became an existential, incredibly dangerous threat. Whether that's the absolute truth or just a convenient lie to maintain control, I can't say for certain. But something catastrophic must have happened for three entirely different nations to universally ban it and enforce the pyres.”She shook her head, her green eyes flashing with a touch of her old, sharp conviction.
“Is their approach right? No. I don't agree with it at all. We would have been infinitely better off educating the masses, demystifying it, and regulating it strictly. But what's done is done, and a single person can't change generations of ingrained terror. I've seen both sides of it in my life—good usage, and truly evil, horrific usage. But even with the worst of it, I've never believed that every person born with a spark of magic deserves to be put to the torch because of a trait they didn't choose.”She paused, taking a bite of the sweet, sugared fruit to wash away the bitterness of the topic, letting the flavor ground her sweet tooth before she addressed his deepest fear.
“If the absolute worst were to happen, and one of your arcanists was caught ashore by King Edin's men... Edin is a fool in many ways, but he is not entirely suicidal. He knows the weight of foreign empires. I doubt he would risk a full-scale war by immediately executing foreigners who live under entirely different laws. At the very least, he would hold a trial, involve whatever authorities represent the Viserjantans here, and likely sentence them to permanent exile. He has just enough self-preservation to know that burning your people without a proper, bureaucratic trial would bring a rain of firelock smoke down upon his palace that he wouldn't survive.”Kalliope quietly finished the plum, but as she looked out over the serene bay, the underlying dread returned to her features.
“Though... I am deeply concerned about what we'll be sailing back into when we finally do return to Sorian. I don't doubt for a second that Edin will hold a trial for the Queen. And the result will almost certainly be her execution—if only to make a bloody fucking point, secure his crown, and spread enough fear to keep the rest of the city paralyzed.”There was a sharp, caustic irritation in her voice, vibrating beneath the surface. To anyone else, it might have sounded like a generic disgust for the incoming political butchery, or perhaps a lingering trauma from the city's cruelty. But it wasn't fear of the crown that made her jaw tighten; it was bitter, venomous resentment. It had been Edin or Alibeth who ordered the slaughter of her family—perhaps even both of them sharing the ink on the warrant—and the thought of the Queen dying on someone else's terms turned her stomach. It irked her to her absolute core that she wouldn't be the one standing over Alibeth, that she wouldn't get to watch the light shatter and fade from the royal woman's eyes the exact moment she realized the ghost of her past had finally come to collect the debt.
The realization that she was sitting on a beautiful beach, drowning in dark thoughts of murder while Sjan-dehk watched her with absolute devotion, made her pause. She caught herself, noticing how heavy the air had become between them. With a soft, self-deprecating sigh, she set her empty plate aside on the sand and shook her head, a gentle, genuine smile replacing the tight lines of her jaw.
“I’m sorry,” she added softly, her voice losing its sharp edge completely as she gestured out toward the sparkling water and the children playing.
“Look at me. You bring me out here for fresh air and a lovely picnic, and I spend the whole time talking about executions, witch hunts, and tyrannical lunatics. We should actually be enjoying the day. Look at this view, Sjan-dehk... it’s absolutely beautiful. We should be admiring it instead of inviting the world's ugliness into a place like this.”Sjan-dehk had remained silent while she’d spoken, mostly because he’d been eating, but also because he hadn’t wanted to interrupt her. Between giving him a rough history of Caesonia’s relationship with magic, a brief introduction to how the other kingdoms in the region viewed magic, and her own ideas as to what the King might do to a Viserjantan arcanist, Kalliope had answered more than a few questions Sjan-dehk had had in mind. Not all of those answers, however, brought him relief.
For one, that Varian and Alidasht were just as hostile towards magic as Caesonia wasn’t welcome news at all. Not for him, and certainly not for Lady Adiyan, Captain Kaizahn, or any of the other officials overseeing the trade mission. They’d all hoped that even if things got worse, and the Viserjantan flotilla had no choice but to leave Caesonia, they could still carry on with their task by sailing for the other kingdoms. But now, it seemed, that would be foolish. All it’d achieve would be to land them in the same trouble, just with different ambiences.
Sjan-dehk’s brows furrowed—a flicker rippling across his forehead. He could already foresee a premature end to the mission, and a hasty retreat to the Commonwealth. The very thought of it left a bitter taste in his mouth, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that it’d be the wise thing to do.
For two, as much as he trusted Kalliope’s assessment of the King—and he trusted her plenty—he couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the thought of a Viserjantan arcanist being hauled before a Caesonian court for the so-called ‘crime’ of possessing magic. Would the weight of the Commonwealth alone, as Kalliope said, be enough to protect them? Sjan-dehk certainly hoped so. As things stood, the Viserjantan flotilla didn’t have the strength to do anything should the King decide that even foreign arcanists had to be burnt.
And lastly, there was that little change in Kalliope when she mentioned the Queen—or, to be accurate, the soon-to-be former queen. Sjan-dehk couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but she sounded…Different, to put it simply. Had it been simmering outrage at the injustice? Or something else? Regardless, it was something that piqued Sjan-dehk’s interest.
But, he decided, he would search for answers some other time. Kalliope was right—this day was much too pleasant, and the scenery far too peaceful for him to worry about such things.
“Well, I was the one who brought up the topic,” he said with a little smile.
“So if anyone has to apologise, it should be me. So…I apologise.”She shifted a little closer to him, her movements tentative but deliberate. Before her courage could fail her, she leaned sideways and gently let her head rest against his shoulder. She closed her eyes for a long, quiet moment, just focusing on the rhythm of his breathing and her own, the steady warmth of him soaking through the fabric, and the distant, peaceful calls of the gulls. For the first time since the warehouse, the phantom river in her mind felt entirely still.
After a long minute, she opened her eyes again, staring out at the sunlit waves rolling onto the shore. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was a quiet, fragile murmur that carried no masks, no teasing, and only the rawest vulnerability.
“Sjan-dehk... I know you think it was just the right thing to do, that anyone would have jumped into the river for me. But you went so far beyond that. You didn't just fish me out... you brought me into your quarters. You’ve let me haunt your space, you've cared for me more than anyone else ever has, and you look at me like my bruises and my scars hurt you just as much as they hurt me.” She paused, her heart thundering as she tried to keep from trembling.
“Why? Why do you care so much about what happens to me? You’ve been carrying the weight of my wreckage for days without a single complaint, but... I’m so scared of what happens when you finally get tired of carrying me." Her next words came out in a barely audible whisper.
"Because I don't think I ever want to let go or leave your side.”Sjan-dehk’s breath caught in his throat, and despite himself, his body tensed up slightly the moment he felt Kalliope lean against him. Suddenly, he felt as if he had too many limbs—he didn’t know where to place his hands, or what to do with his arms as a whole, for that matter. Part of him wanted to pull her a little closer, a little more snug against him, but another part of him convinced him that any movement would cause her to slip, and fall onto the sand.
And so, even as he gradually relaxed, he remained as still as he could, shifting only ever-so-slightly to get closer to her. He could feel her heat, warm and comforting, spreading through him, the rise-and-fall of her chest as she breathed, and the strands of her hair that brushed against and tickled his neck. Were she not gazing out at the sea, she would’ve certainly seen the redness staining his cheeks. And that redness only grew deeper and darker with every word she spoke.
“You said it yourself,” he began, keeping his voice as normal—or whatever passed for that, at least—as he could.
“It’s the right thing to do. And…”He cleared his throat. A strange sort of nervousness came over him. He couldn’t tell from where—it wasn’t as if he was spilling some deep, dark secret. He was merely stating a fact. An indisputable truth that didn’t need to be kept hidden. Yet, the words seemed stuck in his throat, unwilling to leave until he finally forced them out.
“And, well, I–I knew it was one of those things where if I didn’t do anything, I…” Those words tumbled over his lips like water overflowing a bucket, before trailing away. He chewed on his lip, thinking of how best to express himself.
“I knew I’d regret it,” he said quietly, at last.
“I–I mean, you’d probably still be fine. There were many, many people looking for you, and they’d have been enough to deal with the people who took you. But I didn’t like the thought of doing nothing, you know? I don’t think I’d have rested easy if I didn’t see for myself that you were alright. And I sure as the Abyss is dark didn’t want to let you out of my sight when I saw…Well, when I saw the state you were in. At least not until you’ve recovered, I mean.”He breathed in deeply through his nose before continuing.
“As for why I feel all that, well…I don’t know, to be honest. The Mother as my witness, I’ve asked myself that before, and all I can say is that you…I mean, I–I apologise, I don’t even know what this means, but I can’t bring myself to leave you alone. You say that you’re worried about how long I can carry you, but I…I don’t know. I want to carry you, if that makes sense at all. It wouldn’t feel right to me, otherwise.”Despite his bashfulness, a wry chuckle rumbled in his throat.
“I guess you don’t have to worry about letting go, at least,” he quipped.
“Seems like you’re stuck with me for a while, if you’d have me, that is.”His bumbling, achingly sweet admission broke something wide open inside her. The warmth radiating from his steady frame was suddenly too intense, too close to the raw wound of her vulnerabilities. Kalliope slowly pressed her hands against him as she sat up—not to push him away in disgust, but to create space before she entirely dissolved.
She pulled back from his shoulder, her movements deliberate but fragile, and forced herself to look at him fully.
As she met his eyes, the hot, heavy tears that had been building behind her lids finally spilled over, falling entirely unbidden down her pale cheeks. They traced the fading yellowish bruises along her jawline, leaving wet, glittering paths through the dust on her cheeks. Her lips trembled, stripped entirely of the confident masks she had spent a lifetime constructing. Her fingers stayed tangled in the rough linen of his sleeve, anchoring her as she looked at his flushed, flustered face.
“You are an incredibly foolish man, Sjan-dehk,” she whispered, her voice cracking into a raw, fragile thread that barely carried over the steady rush of the surf.
“You say that like it's a simple thing. Like wanting to carry the wreckage of a broken woman doesn't cost anything. You have an entire ship to command, a country to answer to... and you're letting a shattered assassin anchor you to the sand.”A small, trembling sob finally forced its way past her split lips, though she didn't look away from him.
“It terrifies me. Do you understand that? Hafiz took my autonomy, he took my blood, and he took my peace... but what you are doing to me right now feels so much more dangerous. He only knew how to break my body. You... you are dismantling everything else.”She squeezed the fabric of his sleeve, her green eyes wide and brilliant with tears as she laid her heart completely bare to him.
“I’ve spent my entire life keeping my heart locked in an iron box so no one could ever use it to destroy me. I told myself I’d shove anyone away who got too close. But you broke the lock without even trying, just by being... you. I think... I think I’m falling in love with you, Sjan-dehk. And it scares me more than the dark ever did. Because if you ever decide to drop me... I don't think I'll survive the fall.”Sjan-dehk’s eyes widened. His mouth opened, as if he were about to speak, but no words came out. What should he say in response to such a revelation? What could he even say?
Nevertheless, he knew he had to say something. The silence, which thus far had only lasted the barest of moments, already felt incredibly uncomfortable. Letting it stretch on for any longer would be torturous. For him, at least. And so, he shut his mouth, chewed on his lip, and took as little time as possible to think over his words.
“W–Well, like–like I said,” he began haltingly.
“I, ah, I don’t plan on leaving. Leaving you alone, I mean. But only if you’d have me, as I think I’ve said. Even if I have to return to the Commonwealth, I can always take you with me, you know? I don’t think–I mean, I’m sure nobody would mind. So…You shouldn’t worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”He sucked in a deep breath.
“And–And as for you falling in…”His cheeks burned before he could even finish his sentence.
Love. A simple word, really, but one he couldn’t even bring himself to say aloud. It felt like if he did, he’d be acknowledging something he’d been trying to ignore. An emotion he didn’t know what to do about; one he wasn’t even sure he felt. He did feel strongly about Kalliope—that much he couldn’t deny. Very strongly, in fact. But love? That was a very heavy word, with heavy implications. It wasn’t a word to be thrown around lightly, and he certainly didn’t want to. Not with her. Never with her.
He glanced at her, and caught sight of green eyes shimmering with tears, looking up at him from under the red tresses that always drew his attention. He saw her bruised cheeks, her slender fingers clutching to his shirt, and the raw vulnerability etched upon her face. Immediately, he averted his gaze, directing it towards Sada Kurau instead. Not because he didn’t want to look at her, but because he knew he’d find it difficult to find the right words if he did.
“As for…That,” he finally continued.
“I, ah…Well, thank you.”Those were not the right words.
“I–I mean, it flatters me, really.” His cheeks were so hot they felt as if they were afire. It was all he could do to not once again give in to silence.
“But I don’t…I mean, I feel very strong…Well, feelings, for you. I–I just don’t know if I can call it love. I–I mean, I meant everything I’ve said to you. It honestly doesn’t feel right for me to let you face what you’ve to face on your own. It pains me to see you hurt. I’d fight every one of your demons if you so much as asked. I–”He stopped himself before he rambled any further.
“I care a lot about you, Kali,” he said in a quieter voice, the slight waver betraying his inner tumult.
“And I know it’s strange. We haven’t even known each other for that long, and yet…You’ve become someone important to me.”Despite himself, he let out a mirthless chuckle.
“Sorry. I know this isn’t the answer you wanted. But it’s the honest answer. Twenty-four years, and all I’ve known is the sea, sailing, and fighting. These…Things, this matter of the heart is new to me. I know what I feel for you, Kali. I just don’t know…I don’t know if I can call it love. And love’s a very…Special thing, you know? I don’t want to say it just because it’s the right thing to say. You deserve more than that, I think.”He let out a sigh, visibly deflating.
“Sorry,” he mumbled ashamedly, and braced himself for her reply.
Kalliope didn’t blink. She sat there, her hands still rooted to the coarse linen of his sleeve, watching the absolute agony of honesty play across his features. The hot tears on her cheeks grew cool against the salt air, but she didn’t wipe them away. She listened to him stammer, watched him look out toward his careened warship, and felt the heavy, lumbering weight of his integrity pull at the space between them.
When he finally muttered his second apology and deflated, bracing himself as if waiting for a blow, the absolute silence fell over them.
But the explosion she had been terrified of—the catastrophic drop she had just predicted—didn't happen.
Instead, a strange, quiet stillness settled over her. The frantic thundering in her chest slowed, its erratic rhythm smoothing out. She looked at his burning cheeks, his downcast eyes, and the sheer, unadulterated decency of a man who refused to lie to her just to make a heavy moment easier. In her world, words were cheap; they were bartered, falsified, and used to slit throats in the dark. To have a man hold her heart in his hands and care enough about the truth of it to say
'I don't know' was... the most magnificent thing she had ever witnessed.
Before the thoughts could form in her mind, a sudden, magnetic pull drew her forward. The space she had just created between them felt entirely wrong. She didn't think about the scars, the tunnels, or the rules she had built to keep the world away. She only saw Sjan-dehk—his fierce, bumbling goodness and the burning heat of his cheeks.
Slowly, deliberately, she closed the distance. Her fingers slid from his sleeve to the warm, solid line of his jaw, her thumb lightly brushing his skin as she guided him towards her and leaned in. When her lips met his, it wasn't the sharp, predatory kiss of her past, nor was it a demand. It was a gentle, tentative pressure—a quiet, aching seal of gratitude and a silent surrender to the safety he offered. It lasted for a long, breathless moment, a soft anchoring of two souls on a quiet shore, before she slowly parted from him, her breath hitching slightly.
A tiny, fragile trace of her old, genuine smile touched the corners of her mouth, weary but entirely unmasked.
“Sjan-dehk,” she murmured, her voice steadying, though the rawness remained. She gently shifted her hand, her fingers sliding down until her palm met his, softly smoothing over his calloused knuckles.
“Look at me. Please.”She waited until his eyes drifted back to hers, refusing to let him hide in his own shame.
“You are apologizing for giving me the greatest mercy I’ve ever been shown,” she said, her green eyes locking onto his with a piercing, liquid intensity.
“Did you really think I wanted a rehearsed line? I spent my entire life surrounded by people who said exactly what was convenient, right before they drove a knife between my ribs. If you had just blurted the word back to me out of pity, or because you thought it was what a hero was supposed to say... that is what would have broken me.”She squeezed his hand, her thumb tracing the line of his knuckles, grounding them both on the sun-warmed sand.
“You tell me you care enough to fight my demons. You tell me it pains you to see me hurt, and that you want to carry my wreckage even when you don't have to.” A soft, watery chuckle rumbled in her throat, a flicker of her old, brilliant warmth sparking through the exhaustion in her eyes.
“Sjan-dehk, you can call it whatever you want. You can call it a captain’s duty, or stubbornness, or a matter of the heart. The name of the word doesn't matter to me. The fact that you mean it does.”She leaned slightly closer, the oversized hem of his shirt pooling around her knees, the terrifying distance she had created by pulling away completely vanishing.
“I’m not asking you to know the whole sea before you’ve even set sail,” she whispered, her voice dropping into a gentle, unhurried cadence.
“Twenty-four years of fighting and sailing... and you're letting a broken assassin teach you how to drift. If we're stuck together, then we're stuck. I can handle a slow burn, Captain. In fact... I think I prefer it.”Kalliope had kissed him.
She’d also spoken at length after that, but if Sjan-dehk had to be embarrassingly honest, he hadn’t paid as much attention as he should’ve to her words. How could he, when just the brush of her lips against his had rendered his mind frozen? Time moved on, and Kalliope had given her reply, but still it stubbornly clung on to that moment. Even now, as he met her gaze with eyes wide and lips slightly parted, he couldn’t help but think of her warmth as she’d drawn closer, of her gentle touch as she’d guided him into the kiss; of the soft pressure from her lips…
And of how content he’d felt in that moment.
Not happiness. Contentment. Something far more valuable, and far harder to achieve, as far as Sjan-dehk knew. And in that moment, when she’d kissed him, he’d felt it. In that moment, the rest of the world, and all of its headaches and ugliness, had faded away, and the two of them were all that existed. No troublesome nobles to deal with. No worries about arcanists and Caesonia. No concerns about the future. Just him and Kalliope, and that’d felt enough.
It was a wonderful feeling.
And one that left a pang of guilt in his heart.
He glanced at their joined hands and quickly suppressed the sigh that was building in his throat. Here was Kalliope, approaching him with sincerity and effectively giving him her heart, and what did he have to offer in return? Uncertainty. Doubt. A man who couldn’t even decipher—couldn’t understand—his own emotions and what he felt for her. It didn’t seem fair to Kalliope.
“Thank you,” he murmured, and immediately felt silly for saying it. What was he even thanking her for? For her reply? For not, as he’d expected, getting upset? Or was it for entrusting him with her heart?
Or perhaps for helping him make some sense of everything?
Sjan-dehk hadn’t listened carefully to everything that she’d said, but he’d heard enough to know that she’d made some very good points. Did naming his feelings towards her even matter? He knew what he’d do for her, and the lengths he’d go for her, and he knew full well that he’d make good on his word. It might not be as grand as an open declaration of love, as a hero in a Vasenyan folk tale might do, but surely it was—for now, at least—enough? Kalliope seemed to think so.
And wasn’t that all that was important?
“Thank you,” he said, clearer this time, a smile gracing his lips. He turned his hand over, and with a ginger touch—as if he were handling some priceless porcelain work—he wrapped his fingers around her hand to grasp it in a gentle hold.
“Thank you for trusting me, Kali. I promise…Not, I vow to you that I’ll make sense of…All this. And I’ll do it as quickly as I can, as carefully as I can. I don’t want to keep you waiting too long for me, after all.”He looked at her, his cheeks dusted with redness, and his smile sincere.
“And on the day I figure it out, it’ll be my turn to tell you how I feel. But until then, it’d be my honour to stick with you, wherever the Mother, or the Navigator, or the Stormbird, or the Abyss Keeper, or any other deity that I’ve probably forgotten, might bring us.” The last few words came out with hints of playfulness, his smile turning into a more mischievous and cheeky grin.
Silence once again returned. Sjan-dehk rubbed his thumb over the back of Kalliope’s hand, and just took his time savouring this little moment.
“Captain!”Unfortunately, Yasawen seemed to have other plans for him.
“I swear, I’m confining the lot of them to the ship the next time we go ashore,” he said, leaning away from Kalliope and preparing to get back on his feet.
“You can stay here and rest. I’ll be back shortly. It shouldn’t take too long.”With that, he stood up and walked toward the sea. Ahead of him, he could see Hasehnya holding Inshahri back from something on the sand, with Yasawen looking worried as usual, and Tehwasang not even trying to hide her amusement, also as usual. More likely than not, Inshahri was trying her hand—again, he might add—at whatever array she’d tried to sketch earlier. An annoying interruption, in other words.
And yet, Sjan-dehk’s smile didn’t fade. What was it that Kalliope had said, to describe their relationship? A ‘slow burn’, was it? He quite liked the sound of that. His gut told him that it’d suit them nicely. And besides, fires that burned slowest, also burned the longest.
He could take plenty of comfort in that.
princess
Tae
Infinite Cosmos
