Page 18 of These Immortal Truths
“No.” The word cuts. The way he holds up his hands and takes two steps back for her one step forward is damning.
Anna pulls her arm against her chest, hand clutching the flayed seam closed. When Giovanni shakes his head, when he turns away and crosses the bridge without her, Anna’s feet remain rooted.
It’s better this way. Him discovering her secret now instead of later. Better their friendship sever now, when the wound is only skin deep. A mercy really.
But she still can’t seem to help the tear that slips down her cheek.
Hastily, she wipes it away. Forces herself to turn away instead of searching him out across the water. She follows the river upstream, crosses at the next bridge and walks until she finds a quiet grassy hill to perch herself on.
In the distance, she sees smoke rising from the cathedral.
“Not going to storm to their rescue?”
A man’s voice, one she doesn’t recognize. When Anna turns her head to look, the body beside her is one she only barely recognizes as the same face that escorted her to Eira’s forest so many years ago.
She turns back to the chaos. There are flames licking at the roof now. “They’re the same ones that would see me burn.”
Khiran shrugs. “I suppose it’s deserved, then?”
“Not deserved.” Anna thinks of the tension and squabbles that lead up to this moment. “Just not unexpected.”
Khiran hums. Anna can feel his gaze, feel the way he measures her. She refuses to meet it.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Your dress is filthy and you haven’t stopped clutching at your sleeve.”
“It’s nothing,” she says, but she sounds as unconvinced as he looks. When his brow rises, she wets her lips and tries again. “Nothing new, anyway.”
“Ah,” he sighs. “I see.”
A whisper of cloth, his sleeve brushing against her shoulder, and she feels him sit beside her—a shadow in her peripheral she isn’t ready to face. “It’s my fault, really. I shouldn’t have let myself get too close.”
“A bit of a pessimistic take, but I won’t fault you for it.”
“Not if it’s true.”
“Have you considered the other side of things?”
Anna frowns, finally bringing herself to face him. She doesn’t bother hiding her confusion. “What?”
He looks across the river and makes a sweeping gesture to the smoke and flames. “Whose fault is it? It must be someone’s, right? Is it the priory for pushing the citizens too far? Or is it the citizens for picking up the torch?”
Anna shakes her head, a small shrug lifting her shoulders. “Both, I suppose.”
Khiran takes her hand, unfolding the cloth away from her skin until the pale patches beneath are open to the air. It takes everything Anna has to resist the instinct to flinch away when his thumb traces the longest edge. “Two people means two sets of choices. You are not responsible for anyone’s actions but your own.”
She swallows, her eyes falling to the ring resting on her right hand. Her hand is clenched in the fabric of her skirts, her fist so tight her fingers are nearly as pale as the engraved bone. “I should have known better.”
He huffs, releasing her hand. “If you’re going to blame yourself for not predicting the future, at least do yourself the service of casting it on others for committing the same.”
Anna says nothing. If there are any words that could help him understand, she can’t find them. Instead, she picks at her nails and stares as she scratches away at the mud drying at the beds. She hears his sigh as clearly as she feels his disappointment.
“Do you plan to stay?”
It’s an obvious change of subject, an olive branch. Anna grasps onto it with both hands. “It was nearly time for me to leave, anyway.”
