Marie nods in agreement, and I curtsey slightly to her in respect, receiving a slight dip of her chin in response. Lyra hugs me goodnight before Lennox and I turn to head into the night. Glancing over my shoulder as we reach the door, I hope Lyra will allow herself to have a bit of fun tonight, even though I’m sure the memory of Charlie’s loss is likely on her mind, both because tonight is a night to remember the dead, and as she is forced to watch lovers twirl on the dancefloor, sneaking kisses in darkened corners.
Hand in hand, Lennox and I stroll silently along the streets back to the boarding house. His grip on me is tight, but I don’t mind it at all, it’s as if we both fear the other will float away on the dark breeze. A lump in my throat makes it hard to swallow when I think of him sailing away in the morning, but when I try to string words together to explain my feelings, they slip away like white sand through my fingers. When we reach the boarding house, we continue our quiet walk up the stairs to our rooms.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” I ask hesitantly, looking up through my lashes with uncertainty. I’m past caring whether I sound desperate; I only want him close for our last night.
“Of course. I will always stay with you if you ask me to,” he replies, brushing a loose strand of my hair back from my cheek, his thumb lingering on my cheekbone under my mask.
But I know his words are pretty lies. If I ask him to stay forever, he will refuse me. His life is aboard his ship and mine is… uncertain.
“I have something for you,” he continues, jogging me back to the conversation. “I’ll bring it through the adjoining door in just a moment.” We each go into our separate rooms, but a few moments later the adjoining door opens and he walks in with a small chest.
“This is for you,” he says, placing it on the low table in between the chairs where I usually have tea. He hands me a skeleton key for the lock and sits down to wait for me to open it. I look between the key and his face, furrowing my brow in confusion, but kneel down to unlock the box. When I lift the lid, a tremor of emotions rolls through me: sorrow, revulsion, heartbreak, fury.
It is full of gold — the final payment for my time with him. Payment for services rendered, and time that is at an end. I swallow the bile and tears that threaten to drown me. To keep from knocking the chest over in rage, I push the anger I always keep leashed back down where it burns in my chest so hot I could melt the entire chest of gold. The feelings I have for him crack into pieces at the knowledge that this was all just a business transaction. When I look at him, uncertainty lines his face, his brow furrowed to mimic my own, obviously unsure why I look unhappy instead of pleased with my bounty.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, sliding from the chair to kneel beside me.
“I just…” I start, gripping my hands together so hard my knuckles are white. Am I truly going to tell him how I feel? I steel myself, trying to quiet the tremors running over me from the raging sea in my breast. He will be gone tomorrow, it doesn’t matter — I need this to be said.
The words come out in a shaky whisper, “I thought that since the deal with Lyra was false, perhaps the one between us would turn out to be as well. That you might want me the same way I want you. But I see now that I was just another line on the ledger for this trip.”
I swallow again, trying to keep the tears threatening to fall contained within their banks, hoping the lace mask I still wear will hide how hurt I am.
He gasps at my words. “Andromeda,” Lennox starts, but pauses, “No. Fuck it! Nerissa.” He pulls my face up to look at him, using my true name for the first time since I told him to forget it after Marie’s disastrous dinner that first night on the island.
“Nerissa, don’t think this,” he gestures between us, his voice almost a plea, “isn’t real. It’s always been real for me. This is your money. Yours. Every coin you paid to Celeste for the past years has been set aside, except for the bare minimum to pay for your food and other necessities. She keeps it safe for when women want to escape.
“This is yours. I am not paying for you. You are not owned by anyone but yourself. Do you understand? I may want you to be mine, but you do not belong to anyone unless you choose to.”
Ripping the mask from his eyes, I see the truth of his words on his handsome face, emerald eyes flicking across mine as if he is trying to read my thoughts. He reaches up slowly to untie my mask, letting it fall to the floor beside us.
My stomach somersaults in my body as I hold his hands in mine, glancing again at the chest of gold. It is enough to buy a life anywhere — a freedom I could have never anticipated. But the only thing I want is him, and he will be gone tomorrow. I finally release the sob that has been threatening to break free and fall into his arms, gripping him tightly to me as we kneel on the hardwood floor.
Chapter 37
I lay awake into the early hours of the next morning, staring at the darkness of my room while Lennox breathes evenly next to me. After our confessions, we made love sweetly, like we did that first night so many years ago in the grove. But I cannot find a peaceful sleep as he has.
I turn my options over in my mind as the hours tick by. I know he has to leave today. I have the opportunity to stay here with my friends, or to depart on my own to make an entirely new life for myself. If I stay, I will have sisters in Siobhan and Lyra, as well as a place I am understood and welcomed. But, will I be forever haunted by my true identity with Marie always watching me here?
If I wish to flee to a completely new place, I now have the funds to start over. I can have a reputable business like Siobhan in a place where I will command respect and no one knows my past. If I choose that option, though, I will likely never see Lennox again, and I don’t know if my heart, or his, can take another fracture. One more heartbreak may be the end of me, but I can’t bring myself to beg him to take me with him. If he wanted me to come, he would have asked already, especially after last night. Plus, life at sea is dangerous for the best of sailors, moreso for a fleeing priestess without seafaring knowledge if the men protecting her are killed.
Another option tickles my thoughts — an ember that has smoldered since the night of the full moon. The night my smoored wrath was rekindled by the recognition of the King’s sins. Despite my best efforts, Marie’s words have sunken under my skin, just like she knew they would. They now swirl along with the repressed anger and near-constant guilt at the memories of my aunt and sister priestesses.
What if I could topple Blackwell’s reign?
It would be my right — to seek vengeance against the man responsible for the destruction of my family, my home, and my entire way of existence. But what can one woman do on her own? I would have Marie’s help, but would it align with my own goals, or further hers? I roll over with frustration as I mull over these thoughts.
I do not wish to be a queen. I never have. I don’t want to be responsible for ruling a country, but if Marie is right and I could rally those who could rule, perhaps it would be enough. I tuck the thought away, more kindling for my sleeplessness, and continue to toss under the coverlet. Rolling over to view Lennox’s dark outline, I wish sleep would overtake my wild thoughts and allow me some peace. Finally, I lay still in the darkness, willing my mind blank until I drift into nothingness.
* * *
Sunlight barely trickles through the sheer curtains when I open my eyes. When I roll over to snuggle against Lennox, I’m greeted by an empty space, and I jolt upright looking around for a sign of him. His clothing is gone, and the door to his room stands open between our chambers. Throwing the coverlet from my body, I dash to the open door, hoping he is readying his belongings for his departure.
A folded piece of parchment rests prominently on the small table in his room, dark green wax sealing it. The outside simply has the letter N sketched on its creamy surface. When I pick up the note, something small and metallic hits the ground, but I’m so anxious to read the words that I ignore it, opting to crack the wax instead.
Nerissa –
I know you said not to call you that, but it is part of who you are. The girl I fell for in the firelight all those years ago. A queen in bearing, if not in name. The queen of my heart for eternity.