Page 21 of These Immortal Truths
Anna doesn’t have to ask him to clarify. It’s a truth she’s already uncovered for herself with every sweet smile Piers gives her, every touch of his smaller hand resting trustingly in her own. There is only heartbreak waiting for her and she knows it. “It already does.”
He looks around the cabin, taking stock of the remaining firewood lining the wall and the depressingly meager baskets of remaining food they’ve stored. “Will this be enough?”
Anna closes her eyes. “No.” Then she shakes her head and looks down at Piers’ sleeping face—watches his body rise and fall with every tiny breath. “Maybe.”
If she doesn’t eat. If she forces herself out into the cold to search for more until her fingers freeze.
Khiran must see her thoughts because his own face darkens. “You plan to starve yourself, so you can feed the child?”
“I plan to do what I must.”
The sigh he gives is deep and heavy; unhappy and resigned all at once. He sits across from her, legs folding elegantly beneath him. “How long do you plan to stay?”
It’s such an unexpected question, it takes her a moment to gather her thoughts enough to answer. “I don’t know.” A truth she hadn’t quite confronted until he forced it on her. “The world right now is—”
She doesn’t have the words for what the world is, but Khiran seems to understand anyway. “Not the world,” he says. “This famine is great, but there are places it hasn’t reached.”
It sounds impossible when all she’s seen over the past two years is hunger. “Where?” Her voice is strained, skeptical and hopeful all at once.
He shrugs. “Most of the world, but if you were still wishing to see Venice, you’ll be pleased to hear that Italy has remained, for the most part, unaffected.”
Anna finds that more reassuring than she should, considering how far she is from seeing it. She looks at the little boy in her arms, his breathing even and slow. “I’m not sure he’d make it.”
“Then you plan to stay?”
Anna looks around their cabin and feels her heart constrict. She wishes they could, but she knows they’ll need to find something more suitable once the snow melts. The forest once gave her enough, but she’s struggling to find enough food to comfortably feed them both. “I don’t know.” She looks up at him, hope so fragile it hurts. “Khiran … what should we do?”
We, because that’s what they were. Ever since Piers took her hand, gave her his trust, Anna has become more than just herself. The child in her arms holds a part of her heart in his tiny hand. Anna intends for it to stay in one piece for as long as time will allow her.
Khiran hums thoughtfully, a frown pulling at his brow. “Make it through winter. Come Spring, travel as far south as you can.” There’s a warning in his gaze when he catches her eyes. “The damage that’s been done is too much to fix in just a few seasons. If you wish him to live well, you cannot stay here.”
Anna swallows, nodding. She doesn’t know how they’ll do it, but she has months to think on it and she’s seen enough carnage to trust his assessments. They sit in silence, the fire hissing and popping the only sound between them. The log she put on was too wet to be ideal, but at least it still burns. She stares at the embroidery decorating the shawl draped over his shoulder and thinks of the designs that had been inked onto his skin the first time they met. “Where is it from?”
He glances down at himself, following her line of sight. “Delhi.”
It sounds as foreign as his clothing looks; rich in a culture she doesn’t understand. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s outside the world you’ve made yourself,” he says softly, “but I have no doubts you’ll see it. In time.”
Her laugh is strained and without humor. Time is something she has. There’s a shadow of a smile at the corners of his mouth that tells her he’s caught on to her thought. She traces the lines of his face, the thick lashes framing his dark eyes and the slope of his nose, and feels the question form faster than she can dispel it.
She has a hundred worries to haunt her, but right now she only wants to escape into a topic that will lead somewhere that is far from the hunger clawing at her belly.
“Which one is you?” Anna asks. She’s always wondered.
Khiran laughs—as if it’s a joke. “They’re all me.”
“There’s not one body that you prefer over the others?”
“Why should there be?” He grins, wicked and teasing. “Am I not beautiful in all of them?”
She stares, thoughts tripping over each other as she frowns. Inher lap, Piers mutters under his breath and shifts before going quiet once more. Anna brushes the curls from his eyes. “The faces you wear … they’re always society’s standard of beauty. You … you choose the face that best suits the moment, so you can achieve what you want. I want to know which suitsyou.”
His smile dims, his head tilting as he regards her curiously. “This matters to you?”
She shrugs, fingers plucking at her hem. “I—when it’s just us, I would rather see you as you see yourself.”
“And if I see myself as a monster?”
