Page 126 of A Promise of Peridot
“Don’t you know I love you, Arwen?”
Tears I couldn’t quite explain pricked at my eyes, and I hoped he couldn’t hear them slip down my cheeks.
37
arwen
I woke up feeling more like myself than I had in a long, long while.
The stark daylight seeping in through the windows of Kane’s bedroom was so bright it took my eyes a minute to adjust. But when they did, I could see the clear haze of morning fog over Lake Stygian. Sparkling, black as night, and tempestuous as ever, but somehow more striking, clearer than it had been yesterday before the rain. The lake stretched on and on seemingly forever, only interrupted by the jutting, ashy stone cliffs that surrounded it, and that one imposing mountainous shape of Hemlock Isle that sprouted from its center.
I rolled out of the absurdly comfortable bed—a bed fit for a king, something I forgot Kane was from time to time—and a resoundingpopsnapped my eyes over to the fireplace. It was alight with heavy logs, roaring and crackling. Kane must have made a fresh fire this morning while I slept.
He had been... more than kind, more than patient with me last night. Had held my hand through such enormous revelations. One after another after another.
My mother, my role in her illness... My father, a being I hadn’t even understood conceptually until mere days ago, let alone knew existed.
The enormity of my parentage made me feel small and powerless, so I pushed it from my mind for the time being and searched the room for my clothes. They weren’t on the chaise where I had left them last night, but in their place was a folded blue dress with cap sleeves and scalloped collar and... a pair of new, clean leather boots.
My heart swelled.
I took the gifts and changed swiftly, folding Kane’s shirt and placing it on top of the down duvet.
Then, either out of gratitude or stalling, I made his bed, folding the sheets back and fluffing the pillows. And then I combed my hair with my fingers in the mirror for another ten minutes at least to look less like a crazed banshee.
I was definitely stalling.
I steeled myself and opened the door.
It was as if I had stepped into a dream I once had. One in which Kane was no longer the king of Onyx, son of Lazarus, prince of Lumera... but rather, just a man. One who loved dense history books with cramped, too-small script and a thick slice of cloverbread slathered in honeyed butter. Who maybe worked in the local fish market of Crag’s Hollow. Who had a wife that liked to wake up and take a brisk run along the tops of the cliffsides before her day began in the apothecary.
Like in my dreams, Kane was sitting at that round table, facingthe windows to the lake below, warm coffee puffing steam into the room. His mussed, raven bedhead disheveled around his face, and a large, weathered book in his hands. On the table beside him were two plates, each with that dark, spiced bread I loved so much, some smoked fish, and two bright yolky eggs.
He was a vision.
Not just his painful beauty—the exceptional features that rivaled the finest portraits I’d seen in all of Onyx—nor his body, chiseled as if built painstakingly by the Stones themselves, visible under his thin cotton shirt. But his... soul. He was resilient, powerful, passionate. Unafraid to do whatever he believed was right. But also sensitive, thoughtful, wise. Selfish at times, and yet so, so selfless when it came to those he loved.
When it came to me.
My heart thumped wildly in my chest as I stared at his back.
I swallowed. Then I swallowed again.
Oh, Stones.
I had been so unbelievably naive. My own stupidity clanged through me like a bell chiming midnight in an empty town square.
Before, it had been enough to accept my fate, to prepare for death, as long as I didn’t still feel anything for him. As long as that thread wasn’t tethering me to this world. To this life.
But now that I could admit my fears—now that I was willing tohopeagain—
Now it was so clear, I didn’t know how I had ever convinced myself otherwise.
I was still completely, eternally, devastatingly in lo—
“You’re staring.” Kane’s voice resonated through the room, though he didn’t look up from his book.
I shuffled forward, despite the knot twisting inside me. “Thank you for the food. I’m starving.”
