Page 171 of The Jasad Crown
“No!”
Arin’s quiet laugh brushed the side of my neck, raising goose bumps on my skin. I gasped as he gripped my hips and lifted me onto the edge of the table, positioning himself between my knees.
“Is this part of the game?” I asked shakily. “If it is, it is thoroughly unfair. I am at a disadvantage of experience.”
Arin arched a brow. “Did your previous experience leave something to be desired?”
I shoved his shoulder, cheeks flaming. “You know what I mean. I don’t want…” I’d rather strangle myself with a serrated chain than reveal the extent of this gnawing insecurity. “I do not want to disappoint you.”
I may as well have slapped him across the face. Arin withdrew, silver lashes ringing thunderous blue eyes. “I beg your pardon?”
Coherency evaded me, slipping like water between my sifting fingers. “I just mean, I know you have had others. I—I enjoyed myself, uh, greatly, but for you it might not have been as—what I mean to say is—”
The ripple in Arin’s mouth sealed mine shut. Mirth had lit through him like stars in a dusky sky. I hid my face in his shoulder, groaning softly.
A heavy hand came to rest on my neck. His thumb slipped into the collar of my tunic, soothing a circle against the hilt of my spine. “Any advantage of experience I might have evaporates the minute you touch me, Suraira.” His voice was firm. “Since it seems I have been less than clear: the advantage is yours. You unravel me utterly.”
Molten fire flooded me, more than if he had uttered barroom filth. I could have handled that better. A thousand tiny tremors worked through me. “How cruel of you to say such things to a dead woman.”
His grip on my neck tightened painfully for a fraction of a second, then relaxed. “If you live—if we both do—what life do you see for yourself?”
“I haven’t envisioned anything,” I said. Strange, how ardently I had once fought to ensure I could exist for another day, another week, another year. I had rarely looked to the future, because I didn’t need to. The details might change, but I wouldn’t. I would be there.
Now, the future burst with colors and potential, but none of the possibilities included me.
“Lazy,” he chided.
I blinked, struggling to focus on something other than the trail of his fingers along my hips. “I do not see the point of giving myself over to fanciful musings of a future I won’t experience.”
Again, Arin reacted with unsettling calm. “Indulge me, then.” His eyes went hazy as I carded my gloved fingers through his hair, succumbing to the impulse I’d been pushing off for days.
Arin slid an arm under my legs and another behind my back. He carried me to the sleeping pallets on the other end of the room, left over from an overnight meeting the Aada held a few weeks ago.
He settled me onto a pallet and dragged a quilt over us, covering my shoulders. “There are other ways to keep me warm,” I pointed out.
In a second, I was soundly enfolded against him, tucked away from the world and all its horrors. I pressed my cheek to his vest. I was convinced he had brokered a deal with the seamstresses to produce an endless supply of vests for him in the mountain.
“Answer my question.”
I sighed. Once Arin caught on a question, he would not budge until he’d untangled a satisfactory answer.
Knowing he wouldn’t drop the matter, I seriously considered it. What would my life look like if I survived raising the fortress?
“Once Jasad is safe, and my best utility is not in front of an army or beneath a crown, I think I would want to travel,” I said, surprising myself. “I thought about it often as a child. Exploring. I would beg Dawoud and Soraya to take me to their wilayahs. Usr Jasad felt enormous to many who passed through its doors, but it always felt so limited to me. I climbed the trees in the gardens every day, looking down at the world and wishing I could be part of it.” I chuckled. “I practically screamed myself hoarse until Gedo Niyar and Teta Palia agreed to take me to the Summit with them. I think they only said yes because they worried I might use their absence to spend more time with my mother.”
I cleared my throat, turning my cheek into his arm.
“And if you were in Nizahl, I would come visit. You could show me your favorite places, and I would pretend to understand why they are an architectural marvel.” I shut my eyes tight.
His breath stirred the top of my head. He sounded worn. “Suraira, I cannot fathom how to make you believe me. Anywhere you are is my favorite place.”
I winced, rolling away from him. I tried for a lighter note. “In that case, I hope you are fond of graves.”
“It is no bravery to pretend life is cheap to you,” Arin said. “It is no bravery to push out all the things that make it worthwhile.”
It had been ages since I remembered that my death was not a tragic inevitability, but a choice I was making. A necessary choice, but a choice nonetheless. Of course, Arin would be upset.
The choices I made always left him alone.
