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“Where are you going?” he asked, easing back to his feet.
“To find it!”
“Leave it alone,” he warned.
“It’s only a talisman!” She passed him and gasped when hegrabbed her wrist and pulled her back around. She slammed her fist against his chest, and he released her.
“Stop it! That talisman was a gift! It’s just a talisman!”
“And the Deadlock is just a medallion?” he challenged as she backed away from him. She clenched her fist. He had a point.
“When did you start caring so much?” she asked vengefully.
Ryson seemed taken aback by her question.
“And quit grabbing me and throwing me around,” she continued. “I’m not an animal!”
“If you could be reasoned with, I wouldn’t have to, but apparently you love putting yourself in danger! Don’t you understand the situation we’re in?”
“You don’t have to touch me!” she shouted, hands balled into fists by her sides.
“What is your problem with touching?” He threw a hand out in an expressive gesture that was rare for him.
Clea breathed tensely in the ensuing silence. “I’m not—” she started and then changed the direction of her words. “It was a punishable offense in Loda.”
Ryson stared like she was speaking a different language. “What?”
Urged on by the seemingly genuine nature of his confusion, Clea added, “People didn’t touch me. It was a mandate of the king. He said being untouchable gave me an air of divinity. Apparently, that gave people hope.”
Ryson’s expression didn’t change. “People weren’t allowed to touch you? Are you joking?”
“No, I’m not joking!” she shot back. “And it did what he said. Everyone stared every time I went into the streets. I had guards. I was a symbol of hope. So, just don’t—”
“And inside the castle?” he asked, oddly perplexed by the revelation.
Clea glanced into the woods, still tempted to pursue the talisman. For the moment, she relented, at least determined to finish her explanation. “Yes, all right? No one.”
“And if someone did?” he pushed, and she rushed the explanation, eager to be done with the conversation.
“They were punished. I had to go through a purification ritual. Look, Ryson, I don’t know why you’re so interested, but it doesn’t matter. All I’m saying is just don’t—”
She paused, not exactly sure what she was asking him to do.
“A purification ritual?” he pushed.
“Just seclusion for a few days. Okay?” she said, arms folded as she faced the direction where he’d thrown the talisman.
Ryson’s eyes narrowed on her, and after a moment he added, “And it was like this for your entire life?”
His prying made her uncomfortable, not only because of the questions but because for the first time, he was asking about her life with some inklings of real interest.
“Until Virday,” she answered stiffly. “I still kept my distance there, but it was for the best. It’s the only reason the medallion didn’t infect me like it did the others. Ryson, it wasn’t a bad life.”
Ryson said nothing for a while and it bothered her. He never seemed to shy away from a sharp and timely response.
“I spent a lot of time training, learning healing,” she continued, but her words felt empty in the air. “I chose that life.”
“Did you? Because it sounds like the complete opposite of everything you claim to stand for. Connection, is it? Blood being the element that binds us all and Veilin a medicine to the plight. Didn’t you have a name for blood cut off from the rest of the world?”
