Page 123 of A Simple Truth

Zora nudged Orest with her elbow. “He has no taste. It was amazing. You’d enjoy it too,” she replied, her eyes softening as his gaze fell upon her, but she turned away a moment later.

My eyes darted back and forth between them, and I stifled my bitter scoff.

Fucking Destroyer women. Traumatizing us all.

“Any word from Xentar?” Zora asked, changing the topic.

“Nothing new,” I replied, forcing my voice to sound uninterested. But the muscle in my temple twitched at the thought of what, or more accurately of whom, she was truly inquiring. Liriya, with an abrupt sound, appeared, dropping a small hawk from her claws, this time managing to keep the bird alive. The small brown hawk landed on my desk, standing still as I attached the freshly-sealed letter to his carrier box. “See how nice this bird is, you should try that sometime.” I cynically remarked to Liriya.

“Fine. Be difficult. But I am still going to talk about it,” Zora’s voice tensed, but she continued, “You can’t just send her out because you are wallowing in self-pity. She is our Empress-to-be just as much as you are our Emperor-to-be. You two are adults and need to talk it out. You like her, she likes you. You have raw fire; she has raw fire. It’s simple. This marriage has been arranged by the gods before you two were even born.”

I stood up, walking to the window, opening it as I let the bird out. “I have no interest in discussing this matter in any way, shape, or form.” I managed to retort.

“No, instead you’d rather just wallow in the Numb and murder people to try and feel something. How mature.” Zora rolled her eyes.

“Speaking of marriages...” Orest cleared his throat, breaking up the tension-filled silence. “Have you given Broderick’s request more thought?”

“Yes, I gave him my permission and blessing this morning.” I acknowledged with reluctance.

“Finally!” Zora’s loud voice filled with excitement.

“Who knew wars and weddings were so popular this season,” I mumbled in annoyance, my eyes falling beyond the horizon, traveling far past the trees and the villages and the rivers, past the Cursed Forest, past the empty camp, until I reached the small isles in the roaring blue ocean.

Until I reached her.

And somehow, even in the far depth of the Numb, her green eyes still burned me.

73

FINNLEAH

My daggers clicked as I slid them with a swift motion into their sheaths on my leather belt.

“Do you insist on carrying all your weapons all the time?” Xentar folded his arms, his onyx eyes questioning.

“Allmy weapons? I only havetwodaggers on me,” I gave him an exasperated look. Living with the mages, I quickly learned that my usual leathers and weapons, that were so typical in the Destroyer camp, were somewhat a novelty for them. Even now, people stared at my blades as we strolled through the village down to the sandy shore.Mages are not violent people, nor do they enjoy a reminder of violence,Xentar explained as I asked him about it.

“I think it is rather eccentric of you to carry weapons at all, like almost tricking people into believing they’d have a chance to fight you before you’d incinerate them into dust.” He tied his braids into a half knot, and I shrugged finishing my apple.

I liked Xentar.

Though I was sure he concealed his own scars under that perfect, ebony skin, he carried himself very casually, relaxed, living his life to the fullest. The typically uptight, rule following,determined, and brute like Destroyers were a complete contrast to the Creators. Creators were imaginative, bright, and lively. They found a way to turn a gloomy day into a cheerful one with their enticing stories and wild dances, accompanied by their one-of-a-kind music, played on instruments I had never seen before. They were everything and more that I had heard of as a child. Magical, whimsical, positive, kind, and so damn beautiful, like creatures straight from a fairytale. Compared to them, it felt like I was seeing the world in gray, and they saw it in color, noticing all the beauty around us.

Even the boring, white shirt I was wearing today looked better because of them; the wide sleeves now had small, red carnation flowers embroidered on them, courtesy of a couple Creators who took pity on my plain, colorless clothing.

Xentar leaned against a large boulder as we stood on the beach.

“A ring?!” I grimaced, tilting my head at him in disbelief. “You want me to finda ringyou buried in the sand?” My voice was muffled by the gusts of summer wind and the roaring ocean near us.

“Yes, a gold ring of the utmost importance to me has been lost. Your job as a Seer is to find the lost item and then retrieve it,” Xentar repeated, as he summoned a small group of clouds above him, giving him instant shade—shade that I was now very jealous of, as the merciless sun burned bright above us.

“You want me to find you a gold ring in the golden sand?” I stared at the sprawling strip of seaside around us, the tiny specks of sand glistening under the rays of sunlight.

“Yep.” Xentar nodded confidently like what he was asking wasn’t ridiculous. “An easy task for a Seer, such as yourself,” he added, smiling.

I let out a sigh, plummeting down to the ground, crossing my legs as I sat down.

If I thought summoning fire required focus, I was wrong.

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