Cato supplies a brief, nonchalant answer. “Khanto thought, as did we all, that Morgen was done for after getting injured. When he was speaking at the end, the Khan didn’t even notice Morgen reaching for his fallen sword with his uninjured arm. He let his guard down … didn’t even see it coming.”
“The Khan was not a man of honor today,” Solomon mutters. “His desire for vengeance blinded him, leading him astray from his own code.” He looks at Nazirah. “That was his downfall.”
“Thank you for bringing me back,” she says to them, glancing at Olag. “All of you.”
“I am relieved you are all right,” Solomon says. “But I should go check on Mr. Morgen’s progress.” He says something to Olag. “Please stay here and rest. I will send someone up with tea shortly.”
Nazirah smiles weakly, mumbling her thanks again. Solomon and Olag depart, leaving her alone with only Cato and stiff silence. The pain in her head has subsided to an unforgiving roar. “I can’t believe I fainted,” she says. “Must have been the heat.”
“Or the severed head,” Cato responds quietly.
“Wait until Lumi hears,” Nazirah sighs. “She’ll crucify me.”
“Probably.”
Nazirah, bumbling and ever articulate, attempts to change the subject. “Have you spoken with her at all?”
“Once, a few days ago,” he says, shrugging. “She really seems to enjoy working at the hospital, especially in Zima.”
“Really?” questions Nazirah. “I never pictured Lumi as having a wonderful bedside manner.”
Cato looks at her, impassive. “Stranger things have happened.”
Nazirah coughs. “I guess.”
“I think that after what happened to Ani,” he explains, “she finds comfort in saving the lives of others.”
“That makes sense,” Nazirah replies. “She likes you, Cato.”
“And I like her,” he says. “She’s my friend.”
“You know what I mean,” Nazirah presses. “She really likes you.”
Cato sighs. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’m not trying to pry!” Nazirah says. “But Lumi is beautiful, strong-willed and opinionated. She can even be sweet sometimes, especially to you. I think you might be good together.”
He rolls his eyes. “Well, as long as you approve.”
“Once we’re all back at headquarters,” she continues, ignoring his sarcasm, “maybe you two can give it a shot.”
“And what if I don’t want to give it a shot with her?” he retaliates. “What if I want to give it a shot with someone else?”
“That’s … fine too,” she says, playing with the tassels on the duvet. “I just want you to be happy.”
Cato grabs her chin, forcing eye contact. There’s pain in his eyes. And a deep longing that Nazirah has never seen before – at least, not in person. “Are you really going to make me say it?”
She tries in vain to pull her head away. “Don’t say it,” Nazirah tells him.
“I know you know,” he pleads. “If you didn’t before, you knew after watching that memory.”
Nazirah winces from his grip. This isn’t Cato. This is a stranger, someone who has repressed his feelings for too long and is now on the verge of exploding. “Don’t say it!” she warns again.
“Why shouldn’t I? Afraid you might feel something back?”
“Stop it!”
This has to stop, now, before it’s too late. Before one of them says something they can never take back. “Irri, please,” Cato begs, running his fingers frantically over her face. “I’m in love with you.”
And there it is.
And now nothing can be the same between them. Because Nazirah loves him, but she isn’t in love with him. And pretending will only hurt him more.
“Cato …”
“I love you so much.…”
“Cato …”
There are tears in her eyes. But he isn’t focusing, isn’t listening. He is too absorbed in his own raw emotions, in bottled pain, in years of unrequited feelings to hear her now. He leans in, kissing her softly, timidly. It is grass and peppermint and sweetness … everything she should want. But Nazirah doesn’t want it. She doesn’t want it at all. And it breaks her heart.
Nazirah presses a firm hand to his chest, ending the kiss. Cato pulls away abruptly. “What is it?” he asks.
“You’re my best friend,” she says. “And I do love you. I care more about you than anyone. But I can’t give you what you want. I’m sorry.”
Cato glares at her coldly, rising from the bed. “You are so completely fucked up,” he says. Nazirah shakily stands as well. He holds up his hands, waving them in her face. “What is it? Am I too clean for you? Not scratched enough?”
“What are you talk –”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” he shouts. “I can’t believe you would choose him over me, with all our history!”
“I’m not choosing anyone over you!” she cries, needing for him to understand. “I just can’t be with you!”
He’s in her face now. “Don’t lie to me, Nazirah! You know what you are? You’re a tease. I saw how you were looking at him last night, and today. You’ve been acting weird for weeks! But I never thought you could sink so low!”
“I’m not –”
“It’s absolutely pathetic to watch,” he continues. “He’s using you! Are you honestly that insecure? You only feel like a big girl when he’s fucking you into the floorboards?”
Nazirah slaps him across the face, so hard she can almost hear his skin stinging. “Leave,” she says.
“With pleasure, Nation,” he spits, walking to the door.
“And you might want to take a look at yourself before talking about users.”
Cato’s face blanches and Nazirah knows Adamek did not lie to her. “Whatever I’ve done,” he says, “it was only to get my mind off of you.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“I’ve been there for you through everything!” he lashes out. “I’ve sacrificed everything … my family … my home … my life! I would die for you, gladly, a thousand times over! But you are selfish! You may not want to admit it to yourself, but your attraction to Morgen is there. Everyone can see it! You’re playing with fire, Nazirah. And you’re about to get burned.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Nazirah doesn’t leave her room for three days. She doesn’t sit on her balcony, doesn’t read. She just wallows in bed. She tries to resurrect that blissful numbness she once felt. But it is dead and buried. Solomon brings her tea and meals. She barely notices.
On that first evening, Solomon gently tells her Cato has returned to assignment a day early. She sobs into her pillow. Solomon informs everyone in the riad she’s recovering from a concussion, and needs several days’ bed rest. Nazirah is grateful, although entirely certain no one believes him.
Solomon keeps Nazirah abreast of life outside her door. Adamek’s arm is almost fully healed. Aldrik has met with the Red Lords. Their alliance with the rebels has been sealed. Nazirah doesn’t tell Solomon why she and Cato fought. But he is smart and observant and guesses for himself. He assures Nazirah that people deal with stress and jealousy differently, reassures her that Cato will come around eventually. He says that she has a heart of gold, which Nazirah doesn’t believe or want or need. What she has is already too heavy.
Nazirah wants no heart at all.
She makes an appearance at breakfast on the fourth morning, showered for the first time in days. But nothing can hide the dark circles that rim her eyes or the redness in her face.
“Look who’s finally decided to grace the campaign with her presence,” Aldrik snaps, before returning to his meal.
Nazirah takes her usual seat across from Adamek, briefly glancing at his healed arm. “I was recovering,” she mutters.
“You look pretty rough,” Aldrik says. “That’s for sure.”
Solomon clears his throat loudly. “We are all very happy to see your healthy return.”
Aldrik ignores Solomon. “We’re leaving Rubiyat in two days, Nation,” he grunts, “which you would know if you ever bothered to leave your room. We’re tying up some loose ends with the Red Lords and then setting out for Shizar.”