Page 34 of Angel in Absentia
“Clearly,” he replied. “I’m going to handle this, despite the—” he paused, leaning over Clea. He reached a silver claw forward, and fished it under the golden necklace she wore—“this thing she still wears. She still hasn’t mentioned me?”
“Once,” Iris said sharply. “And she seems intent on forgetting any sign that you knew each other.”
He folded his arms, looking back over at her. “Seems unnecessarily cruel of you. What is it with people being so cruel today? I did this continent a rather grand favor less than an hour ago, and the reception is abysmal.”
He glanced back over at Clea, and his expression softened.
Iris sighed after a few minutes of silence. “I thought I’d never see you again. So, it is true? You really were telling the truth about your journey together? What you said about Salanes was true,” Iris admitted.
“See? This could be useful.” He gestured between them. “I help you as a historian, you help me keep an eye on her.”
“And you don’t kill things I love,” she added.
“You keep bringing that up.”
“I think it’s relevant,” she said flatly, “especially as I’m bound to a chair.”
“You ran for the door.”
“Because last time you were here, you threatened to—”
“Yes, yes, I get it. I get it. Cat. Cousin. On and on.”
They settled into silence for a moment.
“You’re an Insednian,” Iris said, “no matter all of your promises. Even if you did everything you did for one another. Why do you want her?”
“Need her,” he said evenly, still watching Clea calmly.
He took a steady breath, brows knit in a rare expression of concern. “You and I,” he started, his eyes flickering to hers, “have some things in common. You go to her for many of the same reasons I do.”
Iris leaned back obstinately as he leaned forward.
“We are strategists in our own right. We can be shrewd and manipulative, have learned the arts so thoroughly that we’ve seen how disingenuous the world is, perhaps have created our own disingenuous worlds through our own ambitions and paranoia. We became manipulative, and so we assume the same of the rest of the world. Granted”—he raised an eyebrow at her—“those you fool and ensnare are typically left with fond memories, and I, well, I typically leave mine…” He rolled his hand, two of the claws pinched together as he lifted his sights in an effort to find the right word. “Dead,” he said, opening his palm as if the word just rolled out like a loose die.
“Being powerful in my world comes with great cost. I have a slew of enemies. I can’t even trust my allies. It is a high-stakes and dangerous game—warfare. When I had my heart alone, I would not survive it because human hearts are not meant to, but her,” he said, looking back at Clea, gesturing to her. “She simply is. I’ve come to measure the strength of a man by how much it takes for him to find satisfaction in something. I pursued power in constant dissatisfaction, but she is satisfied in the simplicity of having a life, having the thing Venennin surrender thoughtlessly, being too blind to recognize it was all I needed. Blind,” he muttered and then laughed, perhaps at some private joke. “She said that much herself.”
Iris watched him carefully. “So, this is real? Still, you just don’t seem like…”
“What?” He raised an eyebrow. “Her preference? Really?” He pushed with his words and then moved his eyes across the ceiling thoughtfully as he consented to her argument. “I was rather more self-deprecating. The only difference really is that I have truly embraced myself now.”
“I’m sure the world is much better for it,” Iris grumbled.
“Again, with the harsh words today.”
She scoffed and then lowered her voice to a whisper. “So, you’re trusting me with this?”
He beckoned her forward. With each pull of his finger, the chair scooted closer and she glared in resignation. He neared her face, a smile dancing across his lips. “To be clear, I don’t trust anyone. But she trusts you.” He tipped her chin up with the point of his finger, lowering his voice to a murmur. “I don’t want either of us to regret that, do you?”
Iris glared, and he pulled away, straightening as he said in a normal tone, “I have to take her briefly to the temple of healing in Ruedom. I’ll be back in a matter of minutes. Can you make sure no one walks in?” Moving a finger to her chair, he released the invisible bonds.
Iris sighed, and in the sigh was annoyed agreement.
“Thank you,” he said, standing before peeling back Clea’s covers and hoisting her into his arms.
Iris watched them both together quietly as if she couldn’t quite believe her eyes.
“This is…almost incomprehensible. You do realize that you, an Insednian of whatever renown that you are, would make her life impossible. I can understand why she wears that necklace, symbolic as it is. What I don’t understand is why you respect it and don’t often barge into her life like you are right now,” she said.
