Page 261 of The Crown's Awakening
I hold his eyes for a moment. "Cambra says after carrying a feeder child it takes a while," I say.
"I am patient."
I look at him for a moment. Then I say, "I do not want the herbs."
Something releases in him. His shoulders drop by a fraction. He exhales once, slow. Then, quieter, "And now I am aroused at the thought of breeding what is mine."
"Patience, dear husband."
I smile. “But there is a price. Before our next child comes, you must find me Yaforins.”
Colsar grimaces. “The rare white fruit of Kisernia?”
I nod, unable to hold back my smile.
"For you," he says, "anything.”
We stay in the bath until the water cools completely and neither of us moves to get out. I put my head against his shoulder. He pulls me closer without a word, his arm coming around me,and we stay like that while the light through the window moves slowly across the floor and the children sleep and the palace holds itself around us.
It is the first time in a long time that nothing needs to happen next.
I think he feels it too.
The Visit
NOX
Nox makes her way down to the dungeons with measured steps, the smell reaching her before the darkness does. It clings low and damp, something spoiled beneath the air, and she lifts a handkerchief to her nose as she continues, careful with where she places her hands, unwilling to brush against anything that might carry what remains of the harki. The passage tightens as she descends, the air growing heavier with each turn, and by the time she reaches the far end, the sound finds her fully.
It is wrong. The thing that had once been useful writhes across the floor, a shape without form, folding and unfolding in on itself as it drags forward in uneven movements, reaching without purpose. It does not know where to go, not without something to take, and its attempts are clumsy now, unfocused, its attention snapping back again and again toward the same point.
Toward the girl.
Yvara sits curled into the corner, her back turned, unmoving except for the faint shift of her shoulders each time the thing lunges and falls short. It reaches for her again, fingers that areno longer fingers stretching outward, grasping for something that never quite comes within reach.
The sound it makes grates through the space, loud and broken, something between a voice and the memory of one, and Nox feels irritation rise immediately. “Fix it,” she says, her tone cutting cleanly through the noise.
Larkin moves without hesitation. He steps into the cell and closes the distance in a single motion, his hand coming down with precision as he breaks what remains of its structure. The sound cuts off at once, the body collapsing into stillness, whatever animates it retreating into nothing. Silence returns.
Nox lowers the handkerchief slightly, her attention shifting.
Yvara has not turned.
She remains where she is, folded into herself, the line of her profile just visible where her face tilts faintly toward the wall. Nox studies her for a moment, taking in what remains. The rumors had not been wrong. Even like this, dirt streaked across her skin, bruising dark against her cheek and collarbone, she holds a kind of beauty that does not diminish under neglect. The fabric she wears is torn, whatever finery had been given to her earlier reduced now to something unrecognizable, hanging loose against a body that has already endured more than it should have.
Nox clears her throat, expecting the movement, the recognition, the immediate adjustment that comes when someone understands who stands before them.
“Be careful, sweet Yvara,” Nox murmurs. “I am not patient.”
Yvara does not rush. She shifts slowly instead, pushing herself upright before turning, her face coming fully into view.
The damage is clearer from the front. Dirt smudges across her skin, dried blood caught at the corner of her mouth, and when she smiles, it is not what Nox expects. One of her front teeth is missing, the absence obvious where the golden whore’s lightcraft must have broken it clean through.
The smile lingers anyway.
Nox looks at her, really looks this time, and something clicks into place with a clarity that feels almost insulting in its simplicity. “It was always you,” she says quietly. “Wasn’t it?"
Yvara says nothing. She simply holds Nox's eyes, that broken smile still in place, and waits.
