Page 75 of Angel in Absentia
It was almost humorous. He was almost humorous, and she realized for the first time that this being before her did seem so much like Ryson, only a version of him no longer burdened by the world. If that was a bad or a good thing, she didn’t know yet.
She did, however, have a lot to think over.
“Goodnight,” she said, leaving him at the end of the road.
“Goodnight,” he replied calmly.
She refused to glance back at him as she headed to Iris’s cottage, but felt the stretch of the distance between them, and wanted nothing more than to go back.
†††
Iris’s cottage was warm with candlelight when Clea entered. The windows were fogged. The kettle was already whistling.
Iris was slicing bread on a wooden table in the far corner, dressed in a long, brown dress. Trinkets from Virday and Ruedom, along with several wares purchased from Kalex settlements, hung around the cottage.
Clea didn’t say anything for a while, watching the fire in its hearth as Iris prepared tea with soft clinks of sound in the kitchen. Soon she approached the fire, setting a tray down with mismatched teacups.
“I walk the city,” Clea said, her thoughts and emotions stewing. Her abrupt and firm declaration caused Iris to look up before sliding into a soft chair next to the fire.
“It’s better. It’s—gods, it’s better than before,” Clea whispered. “The wall has been rebuilt at twice the speed, and there hasn’t been a single attack from a beast, none spotted near the walls. Soldiers are with their families. Streets are crowded. I dare say the city has never seemed so lively.”
“But?” Iris prompted.
“The council members heed to him,” Clea said, gesturing to Iris, her worries escalating. “You should see how some of them hang on his words, and he still gives us all the freedom to exist here. He dictates little but our military efforts, and in that, heis successful. I see my healers healing them freely. I saw an Insednian and a Veilin healer laughing yesterday. Laughing!”
Iris didn’t blink.
“You always sympathized with them. Why hold back now? You aren’t happy? Isn’t this a kind of peace?” Iris asked. “As bizarre as it is, it does seem to work. Ryson seems capable of keeping their natures in check, and they benefit from our healing.”
“His name is Alkerrai, and no!” Clea exclaimed. “Because beneath it all, there is something horrible inside him.”
“And how do you know for sure?”
“Because it is also inside me!” she said, surprising herself. Silence settled for a long time. The fire crackled. “My fate, the city’s—both wound tight around each other, tangled in this maze. If I choose wrong, if I fall for the…illusion—what then? The problem is, I don’t know what the illusionis. I don’t know how I’m being deceived, and the worst part is, it is a way in which I am deceiving myself!” She stared into the flames. “What ismyvice?”
The question hung between them, thick and dangerous.
Iris poured a cup of tea. “Well,” she said with a sigh, “let’s figure it out.”
They spent hours pacing and drinking bitter tea, naming vices. Iris spoke of pride, of love twisted into obsession. Clea named fear. The fear of loneliness, of being wrong, of failing. They spoke of subtle strategy, unfettered by judgment, and what the vulnerabilities in the city were, who might be fooled, and even that maybe the illusion was that she would be the one to fallwhen right next to her might be someone just as fallible whom she’d never noticed in her distracted state.
“Maybe we’re approaching this all wrong,” Iris said at last, rubbing her forehead and yawning. It was deep into the night by now. Clea had changed clothes and they both lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Maybe this has nothing to do with your weaknesses at all, or doesn’t have to be. Why play on the defensive? He has weaknesses too, doesn’t he?”
Clea sat up suddenly and then looked over at Iris. “Iris, you’re brilliant.”
“What?” Iris said groggily, and Clea shook her. “My weakness is his. His weakness mine,” she said, gesturing to her chest before shoving Iris so hard she nearly fell off the bed. “The Solar Solstice Celebration!”
Iris struggled fruitlessly, nearly falling off the bed before sitting up. “What? You’re speaking nonsense. Slow down.”
“I care for him,” Clea said. “I care for him, but I care for plenty of people. He doesn’t. I am his weakness. He relies too heavily on me as a source of light for him. He is stronger on the battlefield, but I am stronger here. When it comes to matters of the heart, this is my world!” she said passionately.
“Clea,” Iris warned, “I’ve played those games before, and I would not recommend them. Neither party wins at the end of it all.”
Clea’s mind was already filing through plans. Iris watched Clea pace as she rolled out of bed. “The Solar Solstice. Typically, the queen and king sit in audience. Ryson and I will host it.”
“Clea,” Iris warned, “that would solidify him as a ruler here. You would be publicly recognizing his lordship over the people, and even the contract of your own bond. You would essentially be making him king in the eyes of the people.”
“Yes,” Clea said emphatically. “Don’t you see? He’d never expect it, and it’s clearly not a delusion of mine. He craves the bond we have. I am water, and all along I thought myself so malleable and capable of being contaminated, but he thirsts with such dread that if I were to invite him into such a role, he would never anticipate any betrayal. I would have the upper hand.”
