Page 54 of Burn Her They Said
I’ve tried a thousand times in a thousand ways. May as well give up now.
He tips his head down, anticipating my needs as he leads me through the steps of this dance we must complete.
“What aren’t you telling me?” His expression is a mix of concern laced with authority, while all I can do is stare back as my heart tightens.
“You have condemned us both by accepting this appointment.” My voice comes out cold and harsh, with her at the forefront. Varic’s face falls as he slowly loses his natural coloring. “Had you refused, it is possible we might have survived a while longer,” I continue. “However, now that you are here, we must contend with the potential for the Empire to fall, all because of your proximity to me.”
His brows furrow while praise from the audience pulls my attention, and I lock eyes with our Emperor, who absolutely beams with the inflated sense of pride he gets from the admiration shown for his strongest witch and sorcerer he’s made dance for them.
“I don’t understand,” Varic says.
How do I explain what he has agreed to live with? How am I to tell him why this is all so distressing? Anything I say will only concern him more, amplifying the anguish he experiences in caring for me past all logic, this misplaced loyalty of his which leads him to feel beholden to me for aiding in saving him so many years ago. This isn’t how any of this was meant to go.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, my voice my own again. “I never wanted this for you.”
“Is that why you’ve been so distant with me ever since I returned to my role? I assumed it was an act—that you were pretending to be closed off in order to hide our connection from the Emperor.”
My eyes flick over to our captor as fear prickles in my veins at the possibility he might have heard us, regardless of the loud music or our whispered tones, nor how far away he stands from us. The fear he may take issue with anything remains front of mind.
“It’s not safe,” I say, voice catching.
“You do not need to protect me. That’s what I am here to do for you.”
“I don’t just mean for you, Varic. You know I can’t ward when I am near you.” I search his expression, waiting for recognition to ignite across his features.
Instead, he shares a look of shock. “I didn’t know you meant that literally. I’ve always thought you meant it as a figure of speech, because if you have been mentally warding—that’s a form of force magic, meaning you need me here now more than ever.” Varic’s voice is so pained with concern for me I want to grab hold of his squared shoulders and shake them while letting out a guttural scream, because he’s not understanding. He’s focusing on the wrong thing.
“My magic is waning, and without the ability to ward, it takes too much of a toll.” I search his features, and he appears distant—lost and considering. So I say the one thing I am sure will drag him back to the present, “It means I am not safe with you, Varic.”
His face blanches, and he rears back as if I have slapped him, creating space between our chests, which hasn’t existed since we began this dance. I open my mouth to speak when the last notes of the song become lost within the riotous applause.
I want to send my power out and into the crowd, to hold them hostage and steal more time for us to discuss this. I want to tell him he misunderstood me. That it is nothing he has done—or not on purpose, anyway. That it is something in the strange way we have felt connected from the moment we met, a tether between two beings unlike anything I know to have existed.
A witch and a sorcerer, bonded through terrible life experiences, two tired vessels weighed down by the pain of those who lived long before us. Our collective power unexplained by anything other than some unknown force tipping the scales to right centuries’ worth of wrongs.
“I will keep you safe,” he rasps into my ear before rising to his full height, where he captures my gaze. “I promise, Tasch.”
“Well done!” His Majesty yells on his way toward us.
Every muscle in my body braces as Varic releases his hold on me—yet his magic stays and supports my weight. Holding me, magically, while he steps away with a stricken expression, appearing decades wearier than his thirty years on this Continent, especially now the natural radiance in his brown skin has turned sallow.
His Majesty will expect me to face him, yet this incessant need to be as close to Varic as possible tingles like an urge beneath my skin, and the weight of all I’ve just disclosed to him sticks to my limbs. Held by his magic as it pulses like a heartbeat, he comforts me as I do what the Emperor will otherwise enforce upon my being.
I do as expected and meet the piercing gray eyes of our ruler. My lips quirk to the side when I sense Varic’s presence as he steps in on my left. Needing him to see my look of appreciation for his help in hiding my weakness. For his refusal to abandon me.
His way of keeping his promise, even after I’ve hurt him.
Chapter Nineteen
Adjustment
“Wasn’t that wonderful?” Emperor Aldritch cries out, clapping Varic on the back with one hand and wrapping the other around my waist to pull me into his side.
“Now we drink!” the Emperor exclaims, releasing us to stand in the center of the room full of those who stare and murmur.
I pull on my well-practiced mask of intimidation to ward off any attempts a guest may make at conversation.
“Are you okay?” Cirrin leans in to ask me.
