Page 22 of Fate of Echoes and Embers
Issa was sprawled out, one arm above her head, as if cradling it. She was fast asleep; my knock and subsequent entry into the cabin, along with the glowing moonstone, had not disturbed her. For a woman who woke before the sun each day, it was a remarkable display of slumber.
So often, she wore her hair back, off her face. But those wavy tendrils always managed to find a way to escape. Now, however, her hair was loose. Her full lips, slightly parted. Her eyes slowly opened, as if sensing my presence. I expected her to sit up, curse my presence, or at least question it. Instead, she simply looked at me as if I belonged in the cabin, watching her sleep.
Which, of course, I did not.
“I assume there is a reason you’re here?”
“You are calmer than I would have expected, to find me hovering over you in your cabin.”
“Your cabin,” she corrected. Issa pulled the coverlet toward her chin, rolled to face me, but otherwise, remained.
“Not for this voyage.” I replaced the moonstone in its wooden holder. “I remembered how early you woke at Hawthorne and became concerned.”
“Has the sun risen?”
I laughed. “Some time ago. I broke my fast with Kael and Mev and… decided to ensure you were well. You did not stir when I knocked.”
Issa sighed. “I had some difficulty falling asleep last eve. But when I did… I suppose the motion forced me into a deeper sleep than usual, as you are correct. I am an early riser. There is much to be done… normally.”
The burden of running a border estate was not lost on me. “You are free here to do as you please. Including sleeping all day, if you’d like.”
“I confess, such a thing would not normally tempt me, but there is something about being on your ship…”
Without asking, knowing how she might respond, I pulled out the wooden chair from my desk and sat on it, facing her. “Sailing agrees with you.”
“I suppose it might.”
She had wanted me to take her sailing, and I’d agreed. Stupidly, I’d agreed and woven tales about all of the places we could go. That was the night before I left. The night I realized what was happening. That I was making future plans with a woman who could never be mine.
“You told me once you wished to sail the whole of Elydor.”
We had been sitting before the hearth in Hawthorne’s hall, a game of chess underfoot. One that, if I recall, was never finished.
“I did not think to do it like this.”
“How did you imagine it?” I wasn’t certain if Issa took our “re-introduction” to heart or if she was not awake enough to remember to glare at me this morn, but I was thankful for it.
She tucked the seasilk pillow under her head. “I thought it would be more akin to sleeping under the stars. Beautiful yet uncomfortable.”
I smiled. “Are you certain there is not Thalassari in your blood?”
“Quite certain. I am as human as any in Estmere.”
Human, and not immortal. The idea of watching Issa growing old, an inevitable illness as age’s companion, was enough to make my stomach roil. Against my will, I imagined her in that bed, sickness overcoming her. Watching Issa die. I simply could not do it. And yet…
“I could take you. If I survive the Depths, that is.”
“Marek—”
I tossed up my hands in surrender. “Forgive me. Pretend I did not say it.”
“Promises you will not keep. Or this death wish that you seem to have. Which shall I forget first?”
“Gods, Issa. You wound me. I do not have a death wish, just a very, very concerning lack of self-preservation.”
Thankfully, her smile returned.
“I believe another ‘very’ may be in order.”
