Given Page 25

  Yenni groaned. “Deedee . . .”

  “No, no, no, mams. You know this was comin’. Is a friend of that big dark one, en? Your Given.”

  “Weh-sheh is not my Given,” Yenni snapped. Diedre held up her hands and gave Yenni a look like she thought she had lost her mind. “Very well, my mistake.”

  Yenni felt terrible for yelling at her friend. “I am sorry, Deedee. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It’s just that Weh-sheh—”

  Diedre nodded. “You don’t want to want him, but you do.”

  Yenni stared helplessly at her.

  “Ah, I know exactly what’s goin’ on here. Is because you’re an Island princess and the king say you mus’ marry another man.”

  Yenni stopped short and jerked her gaze up to Diedre, shocked.

  “But how . . . I didn’t ever . . . how could you—”

  Diedre’s eyes bulged. “Is true?! Was joke I jokin’ to lighten the mood, but you’re really a princess?”

  “I, well . . .”

  “Oh my goodness!” Diedre squealed, and then narrowed her eyes. “But wait, you told me your folks is big rune mages, like magi here.”

  “They are,” Yenni said. “It is expected of them as the chieftain and chieftainess of our tribe.”

  Diedre blew out a breath. “But this makes perfect sense,” she said, reminding Yenni uncomfortably of Weysh.

  “You cannot tell anyone,” Yenni said firmly.

  Diedre looked hurt. “I would never. How I could put my friend in danger so? You came alone, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “But why? Was me, I’d march right up to the castle an’ demand a room.”

  “I have my reasons,” said Yenni.

  “Hmm. An’ the rest is true too? You mus’ marry another man?”

  Yenni simply nodded.

  “An’ you want him instead of the dragon?”

  Yenni paused for a moment, then shook her head.

  “Oh, mams.”

  They walked in silence for a while. “What’s the worst thing could happen if you follow your heart?” said Diedre musingly, almost as if to herself.

  “War, perhaps,” Yenni replied softly.

  “Watch’Ahmighty that is bad. Well, what’s the worst thing could happen if you don’t follow your heart?”

  The worst thing? She would never see Weysh or Dragon again. The sadness of it hit her like a sudden, crashing wave—an intense, longing ache that surprised her. Her sisters, either through luck or their own clever maneuvering, were both quite happy with their matches, so why couldn’t she be as well? But would Weysh make her happy? He wasn’t perfect, but he was . . . something. Something to her. The way he constantly went out of his way for her was touching, difficult to resist. And no matter what she told herself, the notion of never seeing him again was painful.

  “Mams, you look like someone died.”

  Sighing, Yenni shook her head.

  “I can’t say I know much about Moonrise politics, but I know livin’ your life for someone else is a good way to live no life at all,” said Diedre.

  It was strange. Yenni had always thought of herself as independent. She’d resented Weysh’s making plans for her, but Diedre was right. She was living her life for others, following obediently along the inevitable road of propriety. Why? Was she truly afraid of war, especially now that her father was well? Or was her fear something deeper, older?

  And then the thought of Dragon—of Weysh, injured and mourning, bothered her deeply, no matter how she tried to ignore it. Oh sweet Mother Shu, when did I come to care for him so?

  “Say something, mams.”

  “I miss him,” Yenni admitted.

  “Then go to him!”

  “And tell him what?”

  “Whatever you like. Whatever you feel.”

  Yenni stopped. At the very least she should apologize for calling him nobody. And in truth, she wanted to see him, to know he was well and to know if he still felt the same way about her.

  “I will,” she whispered.

  “What’s that?”

  “I will see him.” She hugged her friend. “Thank you, Deedee!”

  “My pleasure, Your Highness,” Diedre said and bowed before Yenni. And the gesture was so strange, as if one of her sisters was teasing her, that Yenni burst into giggles. Her heart pounded with nervous excitement, and she felt as if a heaviness had at last been lifted from her chest and shoulders. For something that would most definitely bring trouble, it certainly felt like the right decision. She would be meeting Zui that evening for a final study session before exams, so she would decide when and where to meet, and have Zui get the message to Weysh. She just prayed that he would agree.

  “Oh, but the same goes for you as well!” Yenni told Diedre

  “What’s that?”

  “The man who has your heart. You should try for him too!”

  “Oh, oh yes. I will. Hey, look! How pretty!” said Diedre, pointing. A group of delicate yellow butterflies flitted across the path, five in total. Yenni grinned. Mother Shu’s number was five, and her color gold.

  Guide me.

  Yenni found Zui leaning back against the railing outside the library. She faced away from Yenni, toward the building, and her straight, pale-blue hair trailed over one shoulder. She already wore the summer uniform: no tunic but instead a flowing green dress cinched by a large belt with the school’s crest. And no leggings, only short and sturdy brown boots. Against the backdrop of the setting sun, she looked as pretty as a painting. “Zoo-ee!”

  Yenni met her at the top of the steps and they touched palms. It was clear that Zui had something on her mind, but Yenni spoke before Zui could get in a word.

  “I want to see Weh-sheh.”

  Zui gasped. “Truly? Oh blessed Byen, that’s wonderful! It’s just awful what’s happened to him! And none of us dragons have been able to sniff out that rat Luiz Noriago. Every dragon at the academy has been keeping their nostrils clear, so to speak, but he probably took off back to Espanna. Poor Weysh. Losing your sense of smell as a dragon—I can hardly describe it. It might be like losing your ability to see colors. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes, I think so,” Yenni said softly.

  “Well then, he’s probably at home. Give me a moment to change and I’ll fly you to see him right now.”

  “Now? But we should study!”

  “Oh nonsense, you’ll pass no problem. You’ve been flying through the practice exams. This is more important!”

  “I had intended for you to take a message.”

  “Why wait? I’ll do one better and take you to him instead,” Zui said with a wink.

  “I . . . but . . . what if he doesn’t want to see me?”

  Zui gave her a secretive smile.

  “What is it?”

  “I like this side of you. It’s charming to see you so vulnerable. He’ll want to see you, I’m sure of it. Now not another word, I’m changing.” She skipped down the steps to the lawn and switched to dragon, then stood long and glittering in the waning twilight, one silvery eye turned expectantly on Yenni.

  Yenni had never flown with Zui, and it was quite the amazing experience. Incredibly, the dragons of Minato had no wings. Instead, Zui flew by instinctively drawing on ach’e, similar to the gorgeously patterned sky snakes of the Fuboli Islands.

  Zui curved and dipped through the night sky, her flight as graceful as a dance, scales glimmering in the moonlight. For a while Yenni could simply sit back and enjoy the ride and the night view of Imperium Centre, with its hundreds of lit windows like a never-ending festival. At last Zui descended on a row of colorful, conjoined buildings. Was this where Weysh lived?

  Zui landed near a gate fronting a long path that led to the buildings—houses. She hunched down on her claws and gave a little impatient shake, indicating th
at she wanted Yenni to dismount. Dragon Zui was more aggressive than human Zui, it would seem.

  Once changed, Zui moved quickly, tossing a greeting to a guard at the gate’s entrance. Yenni was practically running to keep up with her. She led Yenni up a long path lined with bushes, up a couple of flights of steps until they stood in front of a white door surrounded by a pale orange façade. Twin lamps on each side of the door held blue-white magic lanterns. Zui raised the knocker ring and gave the door three smart raps.

  Yenni’s heart galloped as they stood for long seconds waiting.

  Nothing.

  The women glanced at each other, and Zui rapped the door again, four knocks this time. Again nothing. Zui humphed and banged the knocker forcefully against the door as she shouted, “Weysh! I know you’re in there!”

  Something inside hit the floor and heavy footsteps approached them. The door flew open.

  “What! I’m studying,” Weysh grumped, and then paused when he noticed Yenni.

  “Weh-sheh?” said Yenni uncertainly. Since the day of their fight he’d grown out a scruffy, unkempt beard, his hair now hung free in ratty tangles, and his violet eyes were dull, with none of that usual sparkle. He wore his green mage’s uniform trousers but no shoes, and his white undershirt was rumpled and unbuttoned. She wanted to reach out and stroke his face the same way she’d often stroked Dragon’s, but she resisted. He filled his doorway, staring blankly at her and saying nothing. Finally his eyes flicked back to Zui. “My house is a mess, you couldn’t have given me a warning?”

  “Nope,” Zui said simply. “It was best to get her here before she changed her mind. Now I have somewhere very important to be. Weysh will see you home, Yenni Ajani.”

  “What? Zoo-ee, wait!” cried Yenni.

  But Zui was already off, hurrying down the path, and a moment later she changed, taking to the sky. Yenni turned back to Weysh.

  “Oh. May I come in?”

  “I can’t very well leave you standing out there,” said Weysh. He stepped aside, allowing Yenni to enter a small foyer. She had never been inside a Creshen home before, but Weysh’s house reminded her of her suite at Riverbank Chambers. Bigger, of course, but just as closed in, and with the same dark wood walls. The tiled foyer branched off in three directions, each with an engraved archway. The one on the right led to a cooking area, the one on the left to an eating area, and the one straight ahead to a sitting area. Weysh closed the door behind her.

  “This way,” he said, and led her forward into the sitting room. Two plush armchairs were arranged around a small round table that held a glass bottle of something dark brown—some kind of Creshen wine no doubt—and a half-empty glass. Other empty, unwashed glasses littered the room as well as books, some strewn open. Clothes sat piled and crumpled in the left armchair. He grabbed them and threw them carelessly into a corner.

  “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the now empty chair.

  “Thank you,” said Yenni as she slowly sank down into her seat. Weysh plopped into the chair across from her and held up the bottle. “Whisky?”

  “Oh . . . no.”

  He shrugged and set the bottle down, then picked up his glass. Yenni watched him drink with a hard lump of fear in her throat. Zui and Harth were right. She had never seen Weysh like this.

  “Weh-sheh, I heard what happened to you, and I am so sorry. You didn’t deserve it.”

  Weysh examined his empty glass, tipped it back to drain the remains, and reached for his bottle to pour another.

  “And I’m sorry I said you were nobody.”

  Weysh saluted her with his glass and took a swig.

  “Please say something,” said Yenni. “You—I have never seen you like this. I don’t like it. It scares me.”

  Weysh leaned back in his chair and inhaled deeply through his nose, then shook his head, frowning. “How’s your papa?” he said, though his voice was flat.

  “Better,” Yenni said, she took off her uniform glove to show him the rune. “See?”

  He took her hand, and Yenni’s heart fluttered at the warmth of his large palm. He squinted at the rune, and traced his finger along the red line of the injury to her palm, causing her to suppress a shiver. “Good, I’m happy to hear that.” He let her hand go, and Yenni frowned at the twinge of disappointment, how cold her hand felt without his.

  “And your studies? Are you confident you’ll pass?”

  “Yes, I’m doing well on my practice exams.”

  “Very good,” he said. A cold silence settled between them, and Yenni let out a small noise of distress.

  Weysh propped his face in his palm, looking moodily out the sitting-room window. “Are you even my Given anymore if I can’t smell you?”

  Yenni’s stomach dropped but she threw on her royal poker face. “So your feelings are gone, then?”

  He chuckled bitterly. “At the very least your scent is no longer driving me to distraction. Perhaps I’m a severed dragon after all.”

  “Severed dragon? What does this mean?”

  “A dragon with no Given.”

  Yenni’s stomach dropped further. “I see,” she all but whispered. “Har-tha told me you might never be able to smell again. Is this true?”

  Poor Weysh sighed right from his core. “It’s possible. According to the healers at the hospice, that sizzling rat shit hit me with pimentel.”

  “What is pimentel?”

  “Illegal is what it is. It’s a concoction of poisonous minerals and spices used in the Colonial War to knock out a dragon’s sense of smell. How he even came by it the Watcher only knows. I wonder if it wasn’t some sick poetic justice on his part, since I’m part Islander.”

  “I am so, so, sorry Weh-sheh.”

  Suddenly his eyes snapped to hers. “Why did you come?”

  She opened her mouth to tell him something, anything other than the truth. Some merciful fib that would let him go peacefully, if not happily on his way. But something had finally flickered in his dead eyes. The faintest flash of hope, and just like that she couldn’t bring herself to lie.

  “I care about you.”

  He sat back and crossed his muscular arms, raising an eyebrow at her. “Did Harth tell you to say that?”

  “Think about what you just said, Weh-sheh.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, tugged harder, and then he was laughing, and the strength of the relief that flooded through Yenni, that threatened to wring tears from her eyes, both soothed and panicked her.

  He smiled softly at her. “Never change, Yenni Ajani,” he said, and then cringed.

  “What is it?” Yenni asked.

  “I apologize for”—his brow furrowed as he searched for the words—“for planning your life for you, and for saying you would have women’s duties.” He looked her up and down and shook his head. “I’ve said some idiotic things in my time, Harth will attest, but I think that one will go down as a classic. I’m sorry that I disrespected you.”

  Yenni’s heart fluttered harder in her chest as she met his mesmerizing, jewel-toned eyes. As her gaze flitted down to those sensual lips, his strong jaw, she was glad Weysh could not smell her. Only through years of practice was she able to keep her face a mask.

  “Thank you, Weh-sheh,” she said, and dipped her head in that queenly, magnanimous way her mother often did.

  “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I have some experience with parental expectations. It’s not right for someone to dictate how another’s life should be lived, especially someone as extraordinary as you. You’re so much more than simply someone’s wife, mine or otherwise.”

  Yenni couldn’t help it—the mask slipped, and she knew Weysh saw her shock.

  “You truly mean that?”

  He nodded solemnly. “I do.”

  “You would leave me free to choose my own life, even if it doe
sn’t include you?”

  “I’ve come to realize that there is no other alternative, short of locking you away and keeping you miserable, and what’s the point of that, en? I would have you with me happily and willingly or not at all,” he said softly. “But I meant what I said. I will never give up on you. And if you choose to leave, I’ll be waiting until my dying breath for you to return.”

  “But why?”

  He held her gaze. “Why do you think?”

  Dangerous, this was so very, very dangerous. Still, Yenni could not stop herself. “But you can no longer smell my scent,” she whispered.

  He nodded again. “Indeed. I suppose that’s how I know this feeling is real.”

  Yenni stood and slowly went over to Weysh, taking his hands. “I cannot promise you anything, Weh-sheh. All I know is that it does not make me happy to be apart from you.”

  “Truly?” Oh the sweet hope on his face.

  “Yes.”

  He beamed at her and gently pulled her to sit in his lap, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. He nuzzled her neck as his arms came around her, and Yenni let out an indignant cry at the feel of his bristly beard on her skin. Still, he felt warm and wonderful and Yenni didn’t want to let him go, even though . . .

  “Weh-sheh, how long has it been since your last bath?”

  Weysh stopped nuzzling and groaned. “Never one to mince words, en? At least not with me. A while, I suppose. Apologies, my heart, it’s one of the unfortunate side effects of having no sense of smell, and being mired in a depressive funk . . . literally, it would seem.” He guided her to stand. “Give me some time to get ready and let’s go somewhere.”

  “But shouldn’t you rest?”

  Weysh shook his head. “I’ve been cooped up in this very sitting room for the last two days. I even slept in this chair. I need to get out. You can study while you wait. I should have all the books you need here somewhere. I know my home is no palace but—”

  “It’s wonderful,” said Yenni.

  “En? Really?”

  “Yes. It reminds me of you.”

  The boyish grin he gave her all but stopped her heart. “Well, great! I’m glad you like it. Maybe that means you’ll want to spend more time here.” His smile slipped into a smirk. “Perhaps even spend the night . . .”