Page 75 of Sands of Atonement

I was sick to my stomach, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the swaying of the palanquin or the thought of Casimir’s lips on mine. I would cry if I could. Kavid told me this was best for our family and explained briefly what the marriage could bring for the country and its people, which made it impossible to argue with him. I couldn’t let him or my country down… Not when this was something small I could do for the family that was dead. Honor something from years ago…

Perhaps I was ungrateful.

Casimir really was the best man I could ask for in a husband. Much better than Ezra. He was gentler than Ezra. He would give me more freedom than Ezra would. He was much more handsome than Ezra. Ezra was such a savage, an infuriating, self-centered man. Yes, I nodded to myself. I should be more grateful. Thank God I wasn’t ending up with someone like Ezra. I imagined for a moment what it would be like to touch Ezra’s ruthless lips and⁠—

Something warm fluttered in my stomach.

Yep. Casimir’s kiss was what I wanted. He would be a much better kisser than Ezra. Soft and gentle. Ezra’s would be crushing, demanding, and suffocating. Like a punishment.

Not at all what I wanted.

My stomach pain suddenly got worse, and I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Something didn’t feel right about any of this.

Kavid told me I had one month with him before Casimir would be obligated to marry me. After speaking to his advisers before we left Urnaz, they had solidified the plans. Though it was Ezra’s idea to continue as planned years ago, he didn’t look as happy winning his side of the business proposal. He looked as if he could murder someone.

Ezra being annoyed that I made it out and found Kavid—changing whatever plans he had—did give me some relief in my stomach. I took a deep breath. Mmmm. I felt much better knowing he was in just as much pain as I was.

During the evenings, Kavid and I would connect over a cup of kava and tell each other stories from our lives over the past eight years. He explained that after the incident, he was taken with the help of my father’s adviser and hid for a few years until he grew older and stronger. He wore a beard and was named Paziel, branded as a distant cousin who looked like Kavid. It was a similar story to mine—my heart squeezed at the struggle he went through by himself.

He was invested in where I had been, my life in Mongah, and how Salazar and his family were. We talked about our own families and the memories we kept over the years. We both agreed we’d do just about anything to hear Yonam’s silly laughter again. It was carefree. It was a sound I’d never forget.

But that explosion took that beautiful laugh from me.

“Where do you think he is?” I asked, while gazing at the starry sky.

“Somewhere good.”

Somewhere good.

“That’s pretty vague for something so large. Larger than life.”

“That’s all I got,” I heard Kavid say from beside me. “Who really knows…”

My lips curved up, still staring at the open sky, wondering where exactly he was.

“I think he’s with me. I feel his presence now and then. I know it sounds crazy, but… he’s close sometimes.”

After a moment of peaceful silence, I laughed to myself, and then Kavid asked what was so funny.

“I sent Salazar to find out more information on who was ruling Zyriah. We both… we thought that maybe we missed something and that this Qahl Paziel might be responsible or know something. I don’t know. But now Salazar is God knows where, searching for answers in Zyriah when you’re here with me.” I shook my head, wishing Salazar was here with us, too.

“Salazar is here?”

I nodded. “When he saw I had left, he rightly assumed I was here, looking for some sort of revenge.”

“What did he say?”

“Well… he offered to help, you know?” I glanced at Kavid. “He loved you all, too. He was the only thing that kept me together after all these years. He was there for me… and loved me.”

Something flickered across Kavid’s face, and he was about to say something, but remained silent. “Why the name Paziel? Why did you change the name our parents gave you?”

He kept his gaze on the fire in front of us. “My advisers said changing my name would be for the best, especially since we never found the killer. They hid me for a few months and then rebranded me. People who were close to our father knew, obviously. But… I was a new person, a distant cousin, and in a way, it helped with the guilt I carried over the years. Being someone new—it helped.”

I let his words sink in as I stared up at the sky. It made sense. I didn’t blame him for it at all.

There were countless stars. It was a new moon, allowing the blanket of night to shine as brightly as it could. I smiled to myself. I didn’t remember the last time I felt this type of peace since my family died.

But then I noticed a star that was directly above me.