When Essos meets my eye, I think maybe he can read every filthy thought in my mind, because his eyes burn into mine with a need that has the heat of desire coiling low in my belly.
He unbuttons another button before swallowing hard and leaning back.
I realize there’s a line of dried salt water on his pants and jacket. That he ran into the water to meet me doesn’t escape my notice.He still holds my hand, not letting go, as if he needs the reassurance that I’m still here.
“You do realize that this is the most I’ve learned about you since this all started.”
“I’m not sure I believe that,” he says, as if shocked by this. It would be more shocking to find out that Essos doesn’t have every single conversation he’s ever had meticulously cataloged away somewhere.
“Well, you should believe me. If I told a lie, my nose would grow.” I turn my head as if to showcase that my nose has not in fact grown since we started talking.
Essos reaches out with his free hand and taps the tip of my nose. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we? I like to think of myself as an open book.”
I laugh, loud and bawdy. “On what planet are you an open book? You have more secrets than the Kremlin.”
Essos feigns offense. “I resent that statement wholeheartedly. What do you want to know about me?” He opens his free hand, still holding mine with his other. The question is more, what don’t I want to know about him? There is so much to him that I don’t even know what I don’t know, but I get the feeling that Galen would happily fill in the missing spaces. This whole situation feels like I’m applying for a job, getting the dressed-up version of Essos and this life. No one will tell you the pitfalls of a new gig right off the bat.
“Okay, for starters, how many Callings have you had, and why weren’t they successful?” I sit up fully, swinging my legs over the side of the chair so I can face him instead of lying down. He leans back in his chair, finally letting go of me. Despite my current misgivings, I’m sad that I made him do that.
“Wow, straight for the jugular. All right then. I’ve had 12, and for the record, if we’re going to play this game, it's going to be tit for tat. You hold just as many secrets.”
“You still haven’t answered the second half of my question. It was one question with two parts.”
“Are you sure you didn’t want to become a journalist? You may have missed your own calling.”
“Hard to be a journalist when you’re dead. Nice deflection. Answer.”
He looks away from me, his face falling as he stares at the horizon, no doubt thinking back on his previous Callings.“They all failed for one reason or another. What I think you all fail to realize—and this is not just true of you and your friends, but of all the women in the previous Callings—is that you’re facing down the rest of forever. It will take a unique person to spend eternity by my side. For starters, I snore, and whoever it comes down to needs to be able to put up with that. My turn. What happened to your birth parents?”
“Wait, I’m sorry, you snore? You did say that at any point, we can opt out, right?”
For a moment he looks stunned, as though I’ve hit him. Once he realizes I’m joking, he laughs. “Now you are deflecting. Answer.”
I frown at my own words being used against me, and then sigh, considering how best to answer him. “My parents died when I was a baby, after deciding to take their first solo trip since I was born. There was a mudslide that buried their resort.” I pause, reaching out to take his hand for my own comfort. I can never stand to look at people’s faces when I tell them; they’re always horrified by it.I hate the pity that comes with people realizing I never knew my parents. They think that I’m inherently damaged because of it. But I can’t miss what I didn’t have.
Essos, as if sensing that I have more to say, waits patiently. Maybe Finn was right, and patience is a sign of a good ruler.
“I was a late-in-life baby, so my grandparents were already older. Only one set was still alive when I was born. They never got over losing their daughter. My grandfather died shortly after my mom, and my grandmother passed when I was five. My adoptive parents did a great job of making sure I didn’t forget any of them.”
“They sound wonderful.”
Essos gingerly reaches over, and the soft pad of his thumb wipes away a tear that I didn’t realize had escaped. Usually, I’m more in check with my emotions and can handle conversations like this without a breakdown. Twenty years steeled my emotions about it.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.” Another tear slips free, and he brushes that one away too.
Essos lets go of my hand and cups my face, using his thumb to catch each stray tear as it slips from my eyes. I pride myself on not being a crier and, in this moment, I’m angry with myself for these tears.
“It’s because you died last month and almost died again today. I would say that’s enough to knock anyone off-kilter. There’s nothing wrong with it—grief is a normal emotion. I’ve never understood why people fight it. You’re allowed to rail against the injustices of the universe. I think I should cancel tonight—you’ll hardly be in dancing shape. Let me do this for you. Take a break.”
“Now you’re just challenging me,” I say and push out a laugh that sounds as fake as it is. I lean away from him, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “I’m positive—please don’t cancel tonight on my account. Your brother is here, anyway. Don’t you want to show off how marvelous we all are?”
A dark look crosses his face. “How about I have the chef make your favorite tonight? Whatever it is, that’s the menu.”
“You ask as if you don’t already know my favorite foods. Don’t you have a dossier on each of us? You seem to know everything about us, including our measurements.”
His gaze slides over my body at the mention of my measurements. For the second time today, I’m feeling self-conscious that I’m wearing a bikini.
“Knowing something and being trusted enough to have someone share it with you is entirely different.”