The Dragons of Nova (Loom Saga #2)(23)
But would she have wanted him to? She owed him nothing, and he owed her nothing but the yet unrequited boon. That was hardly anything significant to pull them together outside of a magical transaction. And yet, she couldn’t deny a hurt sort of yearning for it.
“It’s good to see you.” He startled her by speaking first.
“If that were truly the case, you would’ve looked in on me sooner.” Arianna rolled her eyes, dismissing the sentiment.
“Well, you’re not exactly the most approachable woman in the manor.” He sat at one of the chairs by her table, glancing at the cooling food. “Is it not to your liking?”
“Nothing is to my liking.” She narrowed the distance between them. But the advance felt nothing like it had with Cain. There was a different sort of tension between her and Cvareh, a sort of ebb and flow they both could acknowledge but had been strung along in the current despite. He made her quiver with tension. His presence elicited a physical response as her breath held and muscles tensed. But, unlike her body’s response to Cain, it was not her dagger that her hands wanted to reach for. She felt safe around this Dragon. It was a welcome sensation that seemed to be magnified by how long it had been since she had last seen him. “I am trapped within these walls, a prisoner of your sister’s. But she does not seek me out either. I will not hand the Philosopher’s Box to her in a fit of boredom.”
“I had never thought otherwise.”
“Does she?” Cvareh’s silence told Arianna everything. She pulled the chair opposite him around the table to sit before him. Arianna folded her hands, resting her elbows on her knees. “Cvareh, you know that will not work with me.”
“I’ve advised Petra thusly.”
“And yet your words haven’t worked.” Arianna shook her head. This is why she didn’t depend on other people to get the job done. “I want to return to Loom.”
“What?” Cvareh drew back, his magic fluctuating. “Petra would never allow it.”
“I’ll find a way out or I’ll jump to my death and take the knowledge of the box with me.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Do you want to test me?” Arianna grinned faintly at the notion. The man clearly thought she placed more value on her own life than she did. She leaned back with a sigh. “Or, perhaps, I’ll wish for you to do it.”
“That’s not what you want the boon for.”
“You know nothing about me,” she cautioned.
“I know more than you think.”
Arianna wanted to refuse him. She wanted to shut him out violently and without remorse. But the door had been opened too wide between them. His mouth on hers ghosted upon her lips, reminding her of the un-crossable lines they’d traversed together. Lines that she might dare walk again if she had the chance. Arianna focused on the curve of his mouth for too long a moment.
She wouldn’t let herself give into frivolous distractions. “Here are your options: Tell Petra that I seek passage home without hindrance.”
“Or?”
“Or, I demand a pair of hands.”
Cvareh’s brows knitted in confusion only to untangle with shock when he realized what she was asking. He sputtered, trying to build momentum behind his words. “That’s something that isn’t done. I can’t just—”
“Those are the options, Cvareh. Either would give me my freedom, and therefore her trust in my future actions.” Arianna stood and turned her back to him. “If Petra seeks my acquiescence, she must treat me like an equal. Or at the very least, a worthy opponent.”
10. Petra
“There has been another contact from Finnyr’Kin, Oji.” A weathered, ancient woman reported from the side of the room where Petra dressed in her riding leathers.
“And does my brother have anything worthwhile for me?”
“He seeks to return home.” The whisperer had the sense to pass no judgment on the message she’d received, merely report the facts.
Petra waved the slaves away and busied her hands with buttoning up her knee-length riding trousers with a heavy sigh. Finnyr had gotten it in his mind that he needed to return. She had no doubt it was in some way Yveun’s influence; her brother wasn’t known for having his own thoughts. Either the Dragon King had made Finnyr’s life torturous as a result of Petra’s actions against him, or he had ordered Finnyr to seek information on the truth of Cvareh’s supposed prayers to Lord Xin.
Either way, it made no sense for Petra to let her brother back into her home. Finnyr would be put in a harder position to feed lies to the Dragon King if he were here. At the Rok estate he could continue to collect information for her on the King’s scheming, even if it was an intolerable place for him to be.
“Tell Finnyr he has more to offer House Xin by continuing to express his loyalty to our Dono.” The words were sickly false. But the whisperer wouldn’t betray that to anyone. It was one of the sacred rites of becoming a House whisperer: no secrets were repeated and all messages were verbatim. All Dragons respected this as much as they respected the other innate laws of their world.
“As you command, Oji.” The whisperer gave her a low bow.
“And, Shawin,” Petra stopped the woman in the door frame. “Also tell Finnyr that when I do see him again, I am looking forward to tales of all his time at House Rok.”