Page 93 of The Spark that Ignites
His eyes slid to her. “Care to share?”
“The pressure to relight thekhaosflame. Learning to control my magic. Stop the deadly fever taking our people.” She shrugged. “The usual.”
“Hey, you saidourpeople.” Vesper brightened, grinning impossibly wide. Then he giggled. Actuallygiggled. “You know—you know what’s funny?”
Emmery hid her smile. “How drunkareyou?”
“I’mnotdrunk,” he slurred. Whatever was in that bottle hit him hard and the corners of his mouth pulled up as he pinched the air. “Alright ... maybe a little.”
“You giggled. You’reclearlydrunk.” Emmery nudged him. “What’s so funny?”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Never mind ... it’s stupid.”
“Oh, come on. I could really use a joke.” Emmery felt like she hadn’t laughed in years though at some point the crippling emptiness inside her had subsided. Not filled but lessened. Accompanying it was an unwarranted hopefulness trickling into her stone heart.
Vesper hugged his knees to his chest and put a finger to his lip, toying with it in thought. “When we bring Iz back, she's going to be the younger twin. Because she hasn’t been aging all this time.” He smacked a broad hand to his face. “Wow, that sounded dumber aloud.”
“No, it’s not,” she assured, voice soft. Emmery had wondered about Maela too and her heart stuttered at the thought of her betrayal and how soon it drew near. “It’s warranted under these unusual circumstances.”
Each day her plan grew more difficult. Could she really do this to him and steal his reunion with Iz for her own selfish gain? Guilt slammed into her full force each time she contemplated it.
Fuck, this wasn’t supposed to be this hard. Damn her conscience.
Vesper took another drink, staggered to his feet, and sauntered to the throne. He threw himself onto it and slid down. “It’s not terribly comfortable.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to slouch likethat.”
“Well then how am I supposed to sit?” he asked, his chin pulled to his chest. He gave a silly, inebriated smirk.
Emmery returned it. “Like it’s made from the bones of your enemies.”
“That’s pretty dark, Sparky. Even for you.”
“I meant sit with pride, Ves.” She looked around at all the reflections of the two of them. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s with all the mirrors?”
“My father was particularly obsessed with the reflection aspect of the soul. He thought the mirrors were poetic. It was definitely a conversation starter.” He sat up straight and lifted his chin in the air. “Better?”
She nodded enthusiastically. They watched each other, Vesper on his throne and her on the floor before him. She felt so small as he looked down at her, running his hands along the throne’s arms like she was a whispering breeze, and he was the howling mountain winds.
“What do you want most in life, Emmery?” he asked. “Like if you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”
The seriousness of the question took her back. She picked at the bottle label, tearing the paper under her fingernails. “I would wish for my sister back. To live somewhere safe so she could grow. Where I could give her everything. Everything she never had.” A heaviness settled into her chest as Emmery rolled the paper between her fingers. “What would you wish for?”
“This may be the drink talking, but ... I’ve always wanted a family. Children. At least three of them, or maybe four so oneisn’t left out. And a woman who loves me. Not for money or power, but ... forme. Without cost or conditions.” He released a deep sigh. “But I would never bring a child into this world. Not now. With the fever—I wouldn’t subject a child to that.”
Unintentionally, her arms wrapped around her abdomen.
Instinct told her he would be a good father. The laid back and fun parent, but an unceasingly loving one, nonetheless. She wanted that for him. And if she couldn’t relight the flame, it would be her fault he could never have it.
Emmery studied his sharp profile in the dark, his bow shaped lips and the faint black stubble on his cut jaw. There was bound to be someone out there that would swoon over him. To love him. Well, she had already seen the effect he had on women, and he damn well knew it too.
“Have you not looked for a wife?” she asked.
He laughed—a soft, light chuckle. It warmed the cold, dark room, as if his presence could mend this broken kingdom. “Women can smell desperation. They tend to enjoy my company for a short time and lose interest when they realize I don’t have much else to offer.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” she argued. “You’re more than just a pretty face, Ves.”
“Right.” The sarcasm lathered his tongue. Vesper tilted his head to the side, studying her intently. “Have you ever been in love?”
