Page 53 of Burn Her They Said
I try to take a step when the muscles in my legs fail, and I stumble?—
Rough, warm hands take hold of my own and squeeze as they help me to straighten. Varic’s bare face stares back at me with unnerving clarity, as if my vision cleared just to allow me to see him, now that the mask which hid him from me is no longer present.
The taut fabric scarcely covering my chest strains with every heavy breath I pull in, and tears spring forth now that all I’ve had to hold in threatens to pour from me under his attention. His care. Shifting things inside me I cannot name. Needing everything to be less complicated while he keeps increasing it.
His Majesty storms over to gesticulate at the Imperial Conductor while Cirrin, Fray, Malin, and Lars all step away to give us space. My eyes scan the crowd, looking for my missing Guard, when it dawns on me—he isn’t here. Yet I can’t help but seek him when I am so used to him existing in my periphery. The weight of his absence feels immeasurable. The sorcerer who has been by my side. The one who was just here. Just last night.
My lips quirk to the side as I stifle the sob threatening now that I can’t seem to stop looking all around for proof that I’m wrong. That he isn’t dead. That I merely dreamed it.
“Are you okay?” Varic asks, and my heart quirks now that his voice has returned to its natural timbre, differing from the official tone he uses when addressing the Emperor.
I stare at his shoulder and pause long enough to suppress the emotions his words have conjured, feigning as well as I can with an audience, regardless of the fact he will see through anything aside from the barest of truths when it comes to me.
“As well as can be expected,” I respond, free of emotion.
He nods and closes the distance until his chest is flush with my own, taking my hand in his to guide it up and over his shoulder while his opposite hand drops down to cup my waist, where he mindlessly brushes his fingertips over the exposed skin inside the claw-shaped cutouts.
I suck in a breath and stare at the crescent-shaped shadows cast down from his lashes, shading the peaks of his cheekbones. My gaze drops to trace the curve of his lips, and I swear his mouth must have been designed to test my resolve when he rolls his lower lip inward. Taunting me with its glistening sheen when his teeth release it. I clench my jaw to stifle the urge to lift my chin and take it between my own.
Music begins, and muscle memory takes over as his amber magic glows where it swirls up beneath my skirts before heating my skin where it closes in on my middle, lifting me to support my tired legs as he guides us in the first movement. Heart swelling with the way he reads my needs—how his magic holds me upright and allows my feet to effortlessly follow his own—as if he has bespelled me with his every move as he expertly helps me glide around the room.
Everything else falls away until nothing and no one else exists except us.
Our eyes meet as he trails one hand up my back to brace my shoulder, bringing our faces so close that every breath we take mingles with the other, making it so no air has any chance of existing between our bodies. This newfound proximity brings our lips the nearest to a kiss I’ve experienced.
The impossible brightness behind his irises conveys an unearned admiration he holds in me, with tiny lines branching out from the edges, and his lips curving in the most heart-wrenching smile he could conjure.
“Tasch.”
Tears spring to my eyes, and I drop my focus to the individual threads making up the gold sigil over his chest.
“I’m so sorry for all you’ve been made to endure.”
I shake my head, unable to tolerate whatever it is he might say next.
“I promise I do not expect you to grieve Hendry’s death so quickly.”
My eyes slam shut.
“It’s just—you appeared so distressed when you saw it was I who was appointed. Then it felt like you tried to dissuade me. To warn me away, even. I was hoping you would feel relieved.” He pauses, voice breaking along with my heart. “Since it’s me.”
The pain in his voice is felt within my chest, and I stumble.
Luckily, this dance is simple enough that Varic is able to make it seem as if it did not happen, supporting me with his modified force-shield, allowing me to glide around and pretend all is well.
“I just want to keep you safe, Tasch,” he says, chipping off a piece of my brittle heart.
I look up at him, suddenly emboldened. “And I want the same for you.”
His brow furrows as we spin, and I wish I could tell him everything. To reveal exactly what he has agreed to, but it’s too late. Now he must live with the consequences of this decision.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
I huff out a laugh as the shift takes place and I look up at him not as myself, but as her, the Imperial Grand Witch who is acting as my internal protector.
“Are you so naïve to think you can save me from him?” she asks.
“In order to answer, I need to know how you think me naïve.” His voice is serious, yet I cannot answer.
