Page 67 of Oracle of Ruin

“Everything okay?” he asks as if he doesn’t already know the answer. The mercenary pulls a stool away from the table, its wooden legs screeching against the floor into the dead air. He settles atop it, his powerful frame making the stool look small. Like it belongs in a dollhouse.

He always sees through me and my lies. Not as quickly as Blaine or Torin do, but he is getting just as quick as them the more time we spend together. The pad of his thumb extends towards my face and smooths the crease between my brows. I force my face to relax, the muscles straining against my command before falling dormant. The action earns a small smile from Rowan.

“Why are you bleeding?”

“It’s not mine.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Silence falls, a thick blanket over the two of us. The lack of sound, of anything, strangles me in ways I cannot understand. There shouldn’t be this strain, not on us.

“A silver for your thoughts?” Rowan jests, flipping a coin my way. It falls heavily in my lap, a useless trifle from a bygone era.

“Come now, I hear you’re to be a king. Offer me more than that and maybe you’ll have a deal.”

A bit of the tension eases when he laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, and gods be damned if I’ve earned it. If I deserve to hear it. “How about a crown?” he murmurs, and I almost smile. “And a ring.”

I stand immediately, the coin clattering to the ground and ringing through the room. Rowan stands as well. The stool falls and I jump. He’s quick to rush to my side, but I hold up a hand.

A ring.A ring.

“You’re thinking about her again.” He stands a few feet away. I can see in his face that he is dying to reach out and hold me. He’s never been good with words, not truthful ones anyway. He needs to use his hands, to work physically to fix things. The distance is smothering him just as much as the silence is me.

“I have to find the oracle.” I have to, Ihaveto…

“Ver.”

“It’s the only way to win this war. It’s the only way to save everyone. I have to avenge her. I have to make this right.”

I am aware I must sound slightly mad at this point, my bleeding hands reaching up to pull at my hair. It falls about my face haphazardly and I take to clutching at my trousers instead once I spot the pained look on Rowan’s face. His eyes stare at the strands of hair I pulled out, woven about my fingers. I can’t feel it, I can’t feel any of it.

“You can’t blame yourself.” The mercenary speaks with such sudden clarity that it startles me from my stupor if only for a moment. His voice is soft and mollifying, as if comforting a wounded animal or a startled child. But this isn’t a snapping twig or monster under the bed. The monsters are here and they walk among us. They always have.

And they’re here because of me.

“I need to blamesomeone.”

“So blame me.” Rowan runs his hand through his hair, the strands already coated with drying blood as if he repeated the action earlier. “If I hadn’t left you, then he wouldn’t have had a sacrifice and we wouldn’t be stuck living like this. Tanja wouldn’t be dead.”

“No.”

“Her mother hid her tracks. The king didn’t even know Tanja was a pureblood. She wouldn’t have been hunted down like you were. She would be safe. She would be married. She wouldn’t be dead.”

“Don’t say her name.” My voice breaks midway through my words. “Don’t you dare say her name.”

Rowan presses on anyway. “She wouldn’t be. But you can’t blame anyone other than yourself, right? Anything to keep wallowing in your self-hatred and pity.” His tone is soft, but I can feel the biting edge behind his words.

I love him for being willing to sacrifice my view of him and I hate him for being right. None of this is my fault, but if I let go of this self-hatred, I am left with nothing. A queen with no throne, a lover with no heart. A life without Tanja.

I am nothing.

“I think we need some space tonight.” I grind out the words.

Rowan inhales slowly in near hesitance, but eventually nods. The only thing that conveys his hurt is a slight flicker of pain in his eyes, but he says nothing. Gives no indication of his inner turmoil. He hesitates before kissing my forehead and stepping out into the hallway. The shadows swallow him immediately, and Rowan is gone.

It almost seems unfair, how he can just appear and disappear whenever he likes. Some days, it is like he just forms from mist and shadow then disappears in the wind when he’s done. It isn’t like how Kya does it. Kya comes from shadows, yes, but she has always been there. You can feel her presence in the room. With Rowan, it is as if he was never truly there.

I wish I could disappear. That the wind could whisk my broken fragments away until I am nothing but a whisper of smoke and shadow. Then I could reappear whenever the gnawing hole in my heart has healed, and if it never does, I can stay among the clouds where the chill freezes the hurt from my bones.

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