Page 107 of Artemysia
“Ivy! Damn it. Listen to me—”
“No. We came to save you, and you were swigging wine on the throne like you’ve belonged there all your life.” Her face reddens, arms folding tightly across her chest.
My eyes accidentally flick toward her pushed-up breasts.
Her nostrils flare. “Don’t look there.” I glance back up. “It didn’t seem like you were hating it. Did you even try to negotiate, to come back to us?” She heaves a breath. “I’m sorry, this isn’t what I meant to discuss. I’m being irrational.”
“No, if something needs to be said, tell me. Don’t shut me out.”
“I shouldn’t have feelings about this,” she says, too calm too quickly.
I close my eyes and press two fingers to my temple. “Okay, I didn’t hate it. But I didn’t know what to believe. Maybe I’m a Syf prince,maybe I’m not. I left so they’d leave you alone. Then they drugged me and didn’t tell me much until you arrived. You heard King Foss.”
“You deceived me. You said you wouldn’t lie but then kept the biggest secret of all. Even when we talked about our dreams, you kept it from me. That you always meant to escape.”
“Not true.” Anger boils because her words hurt. She doesn’t believe I cared, even though I was alarmingly honest and vulnerable with her at Limingfrost—in a way I’ve never been with anyone else before.
“And our mission, helping South Kingdom?”
“I’m not a hero,” I throw back. I stare coldly at her from across the carriage. “Did you read my notebook? The one I handed you?”
“No, we were busy tracking you. We had no need for maps.”
“If you had, you’d know you’re as wrong as hell.”
“Enlighten me.”
“I dreamt of escaping. My whole adult life.”
“Uh-huh.”
Her disdain slices through me.
“Until I met you. Then my only goal was to protect you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s written down. If I was killed at any point, my only consolation was that at least you’d know the truth. That you saved me from myself by caring for me.”
“You wrote that?” She mouths the words before her brows furrow and her face flashes a lightning strike of anger. “Wait, you’re lying! You don’tknowhow to write! It’s why you drew symbols for the cave. You said—” She’s livid, her pupils giant pools of ink eclipsing the brown.
“I asked Ivy to write down some words here and there. She thought they were random. I couldn’t exactly ask her to write,Delphine, I need you, could I? I tried to learn on my own. To leave you a message, in case anything happened to me… I scrawled the pathetic message while you slept in the caves.”
“You need me,” she echoes, as if testing the idea aloud. Her arms finally uncross, and her chest heaves unevenly.
Suddenly, I feel vulnerable. It’s an admission from the depths of my hollow soul.
“I hope you know that’s the greatest compliment I could ever give. I’ve never needed anyone before.”
“Never?” she squeaks, and I wonder what’s the matter with her voice.
I offer what I hope is the kind of smoldering look that answers her question.
“You and I, we risk our lives every day, and in our dangerous world, our short existences could be abruptly cut off. I needed you to know how I felt.”
“And you felt this way at the caves…” Her bottom lip quivers.
I nod, as apologetic as possible. “I’m sorry you thought I’d leave you during our mission. I would crack my chest wide open and rip my own heart out if I never saw you again.”
