Ink, Iron, and Glass (Ink, Iron, and Glass #1)(89)
Looking over Jumi’s half-finished work, she discerned her mother’s intent: change the permissions from the protector of Veldana to the protector of Veldana and his or her descendants. Elsa dipped her pen and cautiously completed her mother’s changes.
She held her breath as the ink dried, irrationally afraid despite the confidence she had in her own work. But as the text settled in and the real world subtly altered, Elsa remained self-aware and free. She had not turned herself into another Simo. Letting out a sigh of relief, she set the pen aside.
There. Now, no matter what happened when they confronted Leo’s father, at least she would be able to find out if Veldana had survived the fire. She did not dare to hope for it, but perhaps she and her mother would soon be returning home together.
Elsa brought the editbook back to her real-world study, where she discovered that dawn had come and gone while she’d been working. She hurried into her bedroom to wash up. There, on the bed, the outfit Porzia had made for her was carefully laid out, and a little handmaid bot stood idle off to one side, waiting to help her change. She still felt resistant about the trousers, as if that one small detail would mean she’d turned her back entirely on the traditions of her people. But she had to admit her current dress was in need of changing—dirty and torn in a few places from her mishap with the chasm—and if recent experience was any indication, dresses weren’t the wisest choice of clothing to begin with.
She quickly wriggled out of the old clothes with the bot’s help and scrubbed her hands and face at the basin. Then it was time for the gray trousers, linen shirt, leather bustier with all its attachments. She was buckling the tall boots when Leo knocked twice and let himself in.
“Elsa, are you ready? We—” Leo’s eyes went wide as he took in her new outfit. “Wow, you look … uh…”
“I’m not trying to look pretty,” Elsa interrupted, feeling acutely self-conscious about the trousers. “I’ve done just about all the running in skirts that one person can stand to do. Porzia’s right—it’s time I dress the part.”
“I was only going to say that you look different. Good different. More like yourself.” His cheeks turned a little bit pink.
Finished with the boots, Elsa scraped her damp palms against her thighs and stood. “You were about to say we need to talk about what we’re going to do. Right? Does that mean you don’t like Porzia’s plan?”
Leo grimaced, as if his next words pained him. “Elsa … what if we just … gave my father what he wanted?”
“We can’t,” Elsa said, looking away. “Jumi created the editbook. It’s a part of my inheritance. This book confers a great and terrible power, and if Garibaldi were to misuse that power, as he almost certainly would, I would be responsible.”
Leo shook his head. “He was a madman long before you came along, Elsa. It isn’t your job to police his actions. You should take your mother and escape his sphere of influence while you still have the chance to.”
She took a deep breath and let it out, wondering how to explain it to him. “I have always despised Earth and its people—mostly for their sense of superiority over Veldanese,” she began. “I resented the idea that because our world is scribed, it isn’t real. So when I came here, nothing mattered to me but Veldana, and I would have happily scorched the Earth in return for Jumi’s freedom and Veldana’s safety. But don’t you see? Protecting Veldana is a duty I claim for myself, not a task I am obliged to, for I did not scribe Veldana and neither did my mother. Protecting your world from the editbook is a responsibility I cannot shirk, because that is Jumi’s creation.”
The conflict cleared from Leo’s expression, and he gazed at her with respect. He nodded once and said, “Of course you’re right.”
“Good,” she said. “Now that that’s settled, let me just grab the book—”
“Elsa, wait,” he said, stepping closer. “There’s … there’s something I have to tell you.”
“Yes?” she breathed. His proximity was distracting. She could see the faint line between his drawn-together brows, and the way a tense muscle pulled at the corner of his mouth.
His lips parted as if to speak, but the words caught in his throat, and instead of saying whatever it was he wanted to say he leaned in and kissed her. Cautiously at first, but when she reached for the back of his neck, his arms snuck around her waist and pulled her in. She closed her eyes and the world faded away to nothing but the heat of their bodies touching, like the void between portals, only warmer, infinitely warmer. And she smiled against his mouth, because it was funny that she’d just finished fastening all those buckles and laces, and now he’d have to unfasten them again.
But Leo pulled away too soon for that, and he stared at her breathlessly. Up close in the light, his eyes had the color and depth of amber. “We have to … There’s no time, but I…” He looked away, raked a hand through his already mussed hair. “I needed you to know.”
His other hand was still on her waist, and the warmth of his touch only worsened the temptation to fall back together like a pair of magnets. Softly, she said, “We need to go. They’ll be waiting on us.”
Elsa pulled away, breaking contact, and busied herself with fetching the editbook from her study. Her hands were still shaking a little from the exhilaration of kissing Leo, and she laughed at herself. Who would have thought, Jumi da Veldana’s daughter quivering like a lovestruck girl? But then, perhaps it was time to acknowledge that her mother might not be the best authority on love.