Page 167 of A Touch of Stars and Stones
“I really don’t need…”
“There’s no point in arguing now. He won’t be told.”
Fine. I’m too tired to fight over this. My eyes scan the room he’s taken us into. “I would have thought your father might have had a much grander room than this.” There are no windows, but the lush greens and golds of the papered walls make it lookdecadent and cosy rather than opulent or over the top. The furniture is minimal and practical, with a silver tray sitting atop a side table, complementing the dining table and chairs.
“This is the one I used. I’d eat with my mother or on my own. Dinners with the family were never high on the fun list.” He pulls out a chair for me, and I sit.
“Should we ask your mother to join us?”
“Rigel will ask. But… she seems out of sorts.”
A moment later, Rigel comes through and places a tray on the table holding a pitcher of water, silver goblets, and a bottle of what I can only assume is wine. In some ways, it’s the perfect end to a turbulent day.
But as I stare at the formality, my emotions start to bubble over as if resting for only a moment gives them the time to take over, and my smile and burst of laughter disintegrate into hot, messy tears.
“Hey, hey hey…” Ten grabs my hand, but I pull away as my tears run harder.
“It… just… hit… me….” I sniffle and pant the words through the hysteria as my breath catches in unbalanced huffs.
Ten pulls me against him, ignoring my protest, lifts me from my chair, and wraps me in his arms, and the sense of someone with me, shouldering my pain and easing my fears, is everything I need, everything I long for. But the unyielding set of his body tells me he’s uncomfortable, so I fight to pull back. And he lets me.
“I’m sorry… but your emotions…” He sucks in a ragged breath as he fists his hands against the table.
Emotions, clearly pain, but no images or visions. Although the contact was quick.
All I want is to hold him, and the realisation that we will never be able to have a simple relationship cuts deeper than anything I’ve already endured. The hysteria starts to subsidewith my sobering thought, and sorrow chases my tears back, a haunting and dark feeling that threatens to pull me in deeper.
“Just give me a minute.” He gazes up at me, and his face looks as full of despair as I feel. “I will learn, Ever, to shield so I can hold you like you want. Touch you like you deserve.”
His declaration springs fresh tears, but also a shy smile.
I want that, too. So much, my chest aches, my heart aches, as if answering his one hope.
Rigel interrupts but doesn’t look put out by me standing next to Ten as he sets down another tray, this time laden with food. To my delight, small bread rolls rest in a small basket alongside plates of food.
He takes a step back and nods his head to Ten before leaving us.
“No pastries, but Rigel is always good at making a meal out of a few ingredients. Sit.” He nods at the chair, and I take my seat. His hand wraps around the chair leg, and he tugs it to him as if he needs me as close as possible without touching before passing me the basket of bread.
forty-one
. . .
Ever
We eat in silence, and I take the time to compose myself. I can feel all my fear, pain, and confusion fade back into that well in the centre of my chest and hope that the water will drown them for me.
Ten opens the wine and pours us each a glass, and I sip the rich, fruity drink. The more I eat, the more I settle, and it gives me something to focus on rather than the events of the day. The worry for Ascella, Kyra, and the rest of my friends creeps back to the edge of my mind. I try to press it down or imagine it being locked in a box inside my mind, somewhere secure, where the feelings can’t bleed out and affect Ten.
We finish our food, and I drink the remaining wine from the goblet.
As if by magic, Rigel comes back into the room and clears our plates.
“I’m going to check on Mother. Be right back.” Ten follows the older man, leaving me to myself.
I try to picture Ten in here growing up, and can’t help but reflect on my own house, Lyle and the people who would come by and trade. I think about Kalan, too. I have so many questions about him, and the biggest: why did he leave me that brooch?
After today, I’m sure I’ll never reach the truth or even know what it sounds like when I hear it. But thinking of home brings comfort, and a longing to return to that pounds inside of me like a war cry. And then my mind skitters towards Ten and the first time I saw him, the first time we talked, touched, and kissed. And the beating drums shift into a pang that captures my heart in a whole new way.
