Heart of Iron (Heart of Iron #1)(106)

Jax had realized, in the moments he thought Robb would bleed out in the cargo bay, that he wanted to fly into those eyes. He wanted to get lost in them. Just once. If they just opened one more time.

But now, standing in front of the Ironblood, he realized how silly that sounded. Because he didn’t care that much for an insufferable Ironblood who was quite possibly from the worst family in the universe.

Really he didn’t.

“I wasn’t asking about you,” the Ironblood said hoarsely.

“I know,” Jax replied, fidgeting with his gloves. He came to sit down on the side of Robb’s gurney. He didn’t know what to say, now that Robb was awake. In the last two days, he had thought up entire conversations, ones that could last for hours, but now face-to-face with him . . . he couldn’t think up a single one.

“The captain was giving me her condolences. For my mother.” Robb’s voice broke at the mention of her, and Jax reached to put a comforting hand over his—

But it wasn’t there.

Jax quickly drew his hand back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Robb said, rolling his shoulder. His arm faded to a nub halfway to where his elbow should have been, bandaged and spotty with blood. “Not yet, anyway. Talle did a good job.”

“She and Lenda did the best they could, but . . .”

“I’m alive, and I think that’s good enough.”

Jax felt his lips twitch up into a grin. “I doubt that’ll ever be good enough for you, Robb Valerio.”

In reply, the Ironblood gave a sad smile. “I gave that up last night after you left. I’m not a Valerio anymore. My entire life I thought my name made me who I was—I grew up knowing that as truth. That I was just a bad Valerio. But now that I’m not a Valerio at all, I don’t feel any different. I’m still me.” But then he bit his bottom lip and added hesitantly, “The captain gave me her last name, if I wanted it.”

Jax said the proposed name to see how it felt on his tongue. “Robbert Siege—”

“It’s not Siege. It’s an Ironblood name.”

“No shit.”

“Yes shit.”

“Well, are you gonna take it?”

“I’m not sure if I deserve it. I was selfish for a really long time. I only cared about myself. I don’t think I’ve earned it,” he replied bitterly. He glanced over to the other bed, sectioned off with a curtain. The soft beep of Ana’s heart monitor kept them company. “I don’t know how we’re alive. She must be the Goddess to have survived that.”

Jax hesitated. “Di was a medic. He knew what he was doing. The blade missed her vital organs. She didn’t survive because she was the Goddess. She survived because Di loved her.”

“And then we left him,” Robb muttered.

He turned his eyes down to Robb’s missing forearm. “He’s not Di anymore. Even if we did somehow get him back, he killed people. The Grand Duchess. Countless guards . . . almost Ana. How would you feel if you came back to your senses after that?”

“I don’t know.” The curly-headed boy sighed, frustated, through his nose. “He didn’t kill me back in the shrine—he could’ve, but he didn’t. There was another Metal—a girl, Ana’s handmaiden—she killed my mother. She looked evil. Di . . . Di didn’t. He’s still in there somewhere.”

Jax studied Robb silently. Was this really that boy from Nevaeh—the one who fell out of Jax’s skysailer, and fought him in a duel, and bled on his favorite coat?

“Chivalry looks good on you, ma’alor,” he said, brushing a dark curl out of Robb’s face. “And I hate that I like it.”

“Your flattery will only get you so far,” Robb joked, trying to grin, but it turned sour and bitter. “I like you, but I have no right to say that. For what my mother did—for what I did. But . . . if there was a way for you to forgive me, no matter how long it takes, would you let me? Will you let me try to be worthy of you?”

The question took Jax by surprise.

He sat back, quite unable to find a response.

I’ve seen your stars, he wanted to say, and this is impossible.

All his life he’d thought that all fates flowed in a continuous, never-ending river, but now the current was disrupted, the path unsettled. They had changed the stars, and he was falling in love with a boy who should have died.

Robb shifted, uncomfortable. “Or—or if you don’t feel the same way—”

“I’m sorry,” Jax began, but when he looked into Robb’s eyes, there were tears there. Alarmed, he quickly added, “No, no! That’s not what I meant! I don’t mean—”

“I knew you wouldn’t. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Tears curved down Robb’s cheeks, and, almost exasperated, Jax wiped them away.

“I can’t lie, you insufferable Ironblood,” he chided. “I’m apologizing because I can’t forgive you right now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss you, ma’alor. And it doesn’t mean I don’t like you. I do. I like you, but do you really want me? Someone who can’t touch other people? That’s my reality. I’ll never kiss you without seeing your fate. I’ll never touch you without seeing how you’ll die. Am I someone you could be happy with?”