XXVI

Amira slurped quietly from her canister of liquid starlight, waiting for Laila to return to her after her visit with Dominus. Much had happened in the immediate aftermath of the attack, and she needed her daughter to remain on top of things if they were to escape from the breadth of this tragedy unscathed.

The numbers of the dead had yet to be confirmed. The number of injured, herself included, would inflate the figure more so. Anti-occassi sentiment couldn’t be more pervasive thanks to the devastating scope of just one. Now, more than ever before, she and Laila would need to distance themselves largely from any semblance of sympathy towards these creatures.

It couldn’t have taken her more aback to see her daughter arrive on the arm of one, his jewels clasped around her throat, as they exchanged anxious looks in unison.

Amira strained in anguish to sit up on the bed. “What… is he…?”

“Maman, don’t strain yourself!” Laila chastised, speeding to her side to still her. The stress induced by the movement caused Amira’s skin to begin oozing blackness. Laila picked up a towel to wipe her clean, discarding it with a grimace. “He’s here with me.”

“If this is about trying to make amends for the atrocity his brother committed—”

“No, Maman!” Laila took her gently by the shoulders. “It’s not that at all. It’s. Well…” She gradually inched her way back until she was in Darius’s arms again.

Her carcanet twinkled, catching Amira’s eye. “You’d best not… be preparing to tell me something immensely foolish…”

“Darius and I are to be married,” Laila asserted before her mother could finish and cause her to lose her nerve.

Amira sighed, rubbing at her temples. “Please excuse us, Darius Rex.”

Darius hesitated behind Laila before she turned to nod at him over her shoulder.

“I’ll be right outside,” he vowed, then made his brisk exit from the room.

Laila sucked in a breath, preparing for the worst.

“What do you think you are doing?” Amira’s eyes narrowed. “I would have thought you would’ve had enough sense in that… thick little skull of yours… to withhold from doing something so… impetuous. Today of all days.”

“Maman, I recognise a marriage between us might not be the best course of action at the moment. But there is no rush. Darius and I, we can wait…”

“Long enough past the election?” Amira’s lips curved in mockery. “That long? How is your occasso beau going to feel after you’ve spent that much time denouncing his kind as the abominations of nature that they are?”

Laila pressed her lips together. After everything she’d set in place with the peace-making, the ætherglass, the qarna, how could she abandon it all? “Can’t we—”

“No, Laila.” The discomfort of speaking lessened the more she did it, and so she continued. “I am afraid your dear Dominus has forced our hand. We cannot afford to show even an inkling of positivity towards occassi or Mortos. Now or in the future. The deaths are too numerous and the grief too great. There will be no marriage here. Darius Rex can consider it a fortune I do not think to declare war.”

“Maman…” Laila could feel her voice shrinking further and further.

“You are to return to Soleterea permanently. At once.” Amira paused for thought. “In fact, do not even think of leaving now. I shall arrange for your belongings to be fetched. There is much work that needs doing. Events you must attend. Speeches you must make.”

Laila could feel tears clouding her vision but held them back. She touched her carcanet. “I understand.”

Amira glanced her over upon noticing her distress. “Aurore, it’s for the best. How was it even to work? A marriage between you two? You were bound to be parted by sea sooner or later. And what? You think that supposed fondness won’t strain under distance when you are both out of sight? A barrage of far more eligible companions ripe for the choosing right in front of you… oh, don’t make me laugh.”

Laila nodded faintly. “You are right, Maman.”

“Come here, my girl.” Amira raised her hand until Laila went to take it. “I do feel part of this is my doing. I have been too… lenient with you, in hindsight. I should have allowed myself to nip this occassi menace in the bud long ago. Well. No time like the present, as they say, hm? You will tell Darius Rex you will no longer be accepting his proposal. And return that gaudy trinket to him.” Amira rubbed at her eyelid. “It hurts my eyes.”

Laila strained a smile for her mother. “As you wish, Maman. You do know what’s best.”

In the end she discovered him not outside like he’d promised, but in the rose garden. Laila couldn’t help but find irony in that as she spotted his rigid silhouette beneath the pavilion of ornate iron.

Her footfalls were soft on the path, but she knew he’d be able to hear her coming all the same. He separated a rose from one of the bushes and twirled the golden petals around to glimpse the opulent lustre of them in the moonlight.

“I see the roses are in fine form this summer,” he said, but she knew better than to be netted into idle chatter.

“Darius,” she began.

“It’s all right, princess.” He looked at the rose again, perhaps to avoid having to look at her. There was a nervous bobble in his throat as he swallowed, and he parted his lips as though the air might have the words that eluded him. “I’m afraid I must admit to eavesdropping. Though I did try hard not to.”

She blinked and swallowed, a rush of heat that she immediately tried to obstruct puddling behind her eyes. “Darius—”

He abandoned the flower by the bench, cupping her face to shush her. He slid his thumb down the incline of her high-boned cheek where her tears had shed. “Don’t cry for me, princess. It’s nothing personal, it’s just politics.” His eyes lowered to the carcanet. “At least I got to see how it looked on you. Just once.”

The sheer tenderness in his voice was enough to make her cry again. She cupped his hand against her face and nuzzled into it with a laugh. “Gods, you always make this so difficult…”

Darius laughed with her, tears staining his vision. “Well, it’s an old habit by now.” He inhaled shakily, tears sliding down his cheeks to match hers. “I’m assuming you’ll… be wanting to give me that carcanet back?”

She interlocked their fingers. “That’s what I keep trying to tell you. It’s…” She bit down on her lip. “What I’m trying to say is that…”

Darius paused, his breath suspending.

“I’ve decided that I might… keep it. And you.” A pause. “If that’s all right?”

He moved in quickly to kiss her, causing any words she might have uttered next to become stuck in her throat. Laila made a soft whimper as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him that much closer.

He drew back to rest his forehead against hers. “Are you sure?”

“No,” she admitted, laughing nervously. “But it helps when you kiss me.”

He smothered her lips with his again, the message clearly received. Laila let herself yield to it. Yield to the desire she’d kept hidden to take his hand and wander blissfully into the unknown, accepting all the judgement and condemnation such a decision would surely reap.

Darius parted their lips to kiss her neck, and she shivered at how attentive he was with his mouth even as she felt the scrape of his canines descending. It was when his lips reached a particularly delicate spot beneath her jaw that she finally put a stop to it.

“Darius,” she breathed, feeble yet forceful as she gathered enough strength to push him away from her. Behind him, Lyra was lurking, having watched the scene unfold with a stiffened jaw. “Give us a moment.”

Laila disentangled herself from him as she fiddled with her fingers, knowing this was the part she’d been dreading most.

“Heard the news.” Lyra jutted out her chin. “Still hoping it’s part of a sleepwalk, though.”

“Lyra.” Laila inhaled, unable to begin knowing what to say.

“Tell me I misheard.” Lyra took a step forward with desperation in her gaze. “Tell me you’re not this foolish.”

“I love him, Lyra.”

For what else was there to possibly say than this?

Lyra flexed her jaw in disdain. “Laila, think about this. Think about everything you’ve worked towards. Everything you’re giving up. The election. The country… Me. Look me in the eye and tell me that he’s worth all of that.”

Laila parted her lips, wordless. Then she met her gaze. “I gave him up for that before. I… I can’t do it again. I can’t.”

“That’s… so very disappointing.” Lyra squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a breath. “Well don’t ask me to watch you do this. Because I won’t, Laila. If you want to muck up your life that’s your business, but I will not be a part of it.”

“That’s regretful,” Laila said, eyes lowering to the floor. “But I understand.”

Lyra’s chin wobbled before she hardened it. She refused to waste her tears on this. She instead directed one last look of sheer loathing towards Darius before she turned on her heel and disappeared into the night.

Watching her leave was enough to make Laila’s legs unsteady. She felt flat and empty and weak, like nectar when all the fizzle ran out. Darius rushed towards her, catching her before she could fall completely.

He held her close in his arms. “Not too late to change your mind.”

Laila shook her head, resting against his chest. If she just lay here for a while she knew the vigour would return to her soon and she could muster the resolve she needed to face the world again. “No. I’ve made my decision. She’s made hers.”

Darius kissed the top of her head. “We’ll make this right again, I promise. We have all the time in the world to unravel this mess. And we will. Together.”

She twisted round in his arms to cup his face and bring his forehead to hers. “Let’s go home.”