Page 368 of Alchemised
All that time, Kaine had known her. From the moment she’d arrived.
The transference process … it was her idea. The procedure she’d wanted to use on Titus Bayard.
And Shiseo …
She looked down at her wrists in renewed horror.
Transference, the manacles—those weren’t things that Kaine had known of. It was Shiseo who’d known. Transference was the reason Morrough had wanted the repopulation program started.
Her throat convulsed, and she vomited all the soup onto the floor beside the bed.
She tried to stop thinking about it. To remember herself from before, to reconcile who she was with the person she’d forgotten. In the process of forgetting, she’d flattened herself, forgotten all her anger. Her capacity to be monstrous.
That was the person Kaine wanted. Who he’d done all this for.
But that Helena didn’t exist anymore. All that was left now was a shadow.
It was dark when Kaine returned.
Her heart rose with relief, but dread rushed through her at the sight of him. She stared at him in the dark as he stayed by the door, clearly not intending to linger, coldly appraising her from across the room.
She didn’t know what she wanted him to do. She didn’t want him there, but not seeing him was worse because when he was gone, he might be dead; she’d never see him again.
“Are you angry with me about something?” she asked when he didn’t speak.
His lips vanished into a line, and he entered, shutting the door. “No.”
He went to a window, pushing back the curtains enough to let in a soft gleam of silver light. He was in uniform.
Helena watched him, trying to pinpoint what it was about him that was so different now.
“You are,” she said. “I feel like I know you are, but I don’t remember why.”
He didn’t look at her. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all in the past.”
“Why look for me, then, if the past doesn’t matter?”
His jaw clenched. “Do you remember how you were captured?”
She nodded. “I blew up the West Port Lab.”
He gave a short nod, still staring out the window. “Do you remember why?”
She furrowed her eyebrows. The answer felt obvious, but she couldn’t remember exactly.
“Don’t push if you can’t recall,” he said, glancing towards her sharply when she was silent.
“It was because of you, wasn’t it?” she asked, somehow sure it had to have been, although she didn’t remember anything except the fire, her ears throbbing, trying to run.
He looked away again but nodded.
Helena wasn’t sure why he’d be angry about that. She closed her eyes. She felt so tired now that he was there, as if she’d waited for him in order to rest.
“When you were asleep, I used to promise I’d take care of you,” she said.
“No.” He said it harshly. “That was me. I was the one who used to say that.”
She opened her eyes. “I used to say it back. I guess you didn’t know.”
