They cut off thick slices of bread and layered them with equally thick slices of cheese, eating for a while in companionable silence. Then, “He’s gone,” Cammon said, keeping his voice low.
“I’m glad you were willing to come meet me,” she said straightaway. “I couldn’t bear to have you angry at me all night. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep.”
He poured glasses of water for both of them. “It’s not my place to be angry at the things you tell and don’t tell. I should be apologizing for behaving badly. But I’m still-it’s a lot to try to understand all at once.”
“You think I have a terrible kind of magic,” she said.
He was astonished and turned to stare at her by the rosy light of the half-dead fire. “What? What kind of thing is that to say?”
She nodded. “You do! Magic that steals from other people. What sort of power is that? It’s mean and spiteful, that’s what.”
He took a bite of his bread and chewed it, considering. “Is that what you think?” he said at last.
She hunched her shoulders and looked down at her plate. “Maybe. It doesn’t seem very pretty-like Senneth’s magic, or Kirra’s. It just seems-I don’t want to be a thief! I don’t want people to be afraid of me! People already keep their distance from me because I’m the princess. If they think I’ll take things from them, just borrow their power whenever I want to-well, no one will be comfortable with me. No one will want to be near me.” She hesitated and then, in a small voice, added, “Particularly mystics.”
It was a reasonable fear, he thought. And yet…“To my knowledge, no mystics have ever been allowed to choose their magic,” Cammon replied. “They were endowed with it, or forced to accept it, no matter what they wanted. So mystics will understand this is not a power you sought out-merely a power you need to comprehend.”
“I think they will hate me,” Amalie said, still in that soft voice. “As they hate Coralinda Gisseltess. As they hate the Pale Mother. I have been touched by the wrong god.”
Cammon cut another slice of bread. “As to that, you might talk to Ellynor-once you’ve decided it’s safe to discuss secrets. She lived at Lumanen Convent for a year and worshipped the Pale Mother along with the other novices. I think she’s rather fond of the Silver Lady, to tell you the truth. She might be able to tell you some tales that will make you a little happier to fall under her protection.”
Amalie glanced over at him, her face showing the first stirrings of hope. “Do you think so? Because right now I don’t think I could ever honor the same goddess that Coralinda Gisseltess loves.”
He wasn’t sure how to phrase this. “Have you been-do you think-have you found yourself hating yourself a little because of the magic in your blood?”
She nodded vigorously. “Yes! Ever since I realized how strong my own magic was. And today I hate it even more because I realize Coralinda Gisseltess possesses the same kind of power. If she’s evil-”
“It doesn’t necessarily follow that you are,” he said swiftly. “Though I have to say it makes everything more complicated.”
She brooded a moment. “I wanted to tell you,” she said at last. “Valri was so afraid you would find out, but I wanted to tell you. It’s just been-it’s so heavy. Knowing that there is something deep in your heart that will make people despise you, waiting for the day when they learn it-the day they turn away from you in horror. I-I wanted you to find out.” She gave him one fleeting glance and looked away again. “I did foolish things, to give you clues.”
“The raelynx.”
She nodded. “I had to know. What face you would show me when you discovered the truth.”
“I’m sorry it was such a shocked face today, then,” he said, instantly full of remorse. “But-it hurt-and there was so much to understand, all at once-”
She laughed softly. “Oh, I thought you would curse me and run from the room. The fact that you stayed and were willing to talk to me-I never hoped for so much.”
Sweet gods, what a desperately lonely life she had led. She had no concept of how much strain the bonds of friendship could bear. Without thinking about it, he reached over and laid his hand on her wrist. “Amalie,” he said. “Nothing you do or say or are could ever turn me against you.”
She twisted her hand so she could take hold of his, but she didn’t look at him. “I don’t think that’s true,” she said. “People turn against their friends all the time. I don’t know the reasons. Maybe I’ll do something at some point to disgust you or repulse you, and then you’ll leave. That could happen.”
He laughed back in his throat. “I think it’s more likely to work the other way. You’ll get tired of me or annoyed with me and send me away.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Or your husband will. He might not like to have me loitering about the palace all the time, scowling every time I see him.”
That made her smile, and she gave him a sideways glance. “Why would you be scowling?”
“Because I’ll be jealous of him, of course! Married to you!” He said it lightly but his stomach twisted. It was the first time he had admitted the thought out loud, though it had dwelt at the back of his mind for weeks.
She shrugged a little and her fingers tightened. “Maybe I won’t find a husband right away.”
That made his heart leap, though he sternly told it to hunker back down. “I think you’re supposed to. I think that’s what everyone wants you to do.”
She straightened her posture and tossed back a lock of hair. She was recovering some of her habitual poise and a little of her playfulness. “Maybe it’s not what I want. Maybe I won’t do what everyone tells me to do.”
“That’s something I’ve noticed,” he said. “Lots of times you don’t.”
“So will you stay then?”
He gave her as much of a bow as he could muster while sitting on a stool and holding her hand in his. “Majesty, I am yours to command.”
She finally turned to face him, frowning a little. “No, I mean it. Will you stay as long as I’m not married?”
For a moment, he simply stared at her, and she stared back. They were still handfast; the warm, shadowy kitchen seemed a place of comfort and ease, a place to share secrets. “Amalie, I will stay as long as you want me to,” he replied slowly. “But you should not let-let-your friendship for me stop you from making an advantageous match. Valri and Senneth would banish me from Ghosenhall altogether if they thought that.”
Her dark eyes were extremely wide. “I wouldn’t say it was because of you. I would just say that I don’t want to get married right now.”
He felt a brief smile come to his lips. “They might not find that a very good reason.”
She whispered, “But I don’t want to get married just now.”
She was still watching him, and now the expression on her face was half-pleading, half-afraid. Afraid he would not be able to tell what she wanted. Ah, but he was a reader, after all, and she had dismantled her safeguards. He could feel the confused tumble of her emotions-hope, longing, affection, nervousness, curiosity, daring, desire-and knew that he should drop her hand and leave the room. She was so young, she was so precious, and she was even more inexperienced than he was; he was the one who should walk away.
He leaned forward and kissed her.
Immediately he was awash in her feelings as well as his own. He felt as if he had been enfolded in gold, as if the air shimmered when he drew in breath. His own pleasure and excitement were added to hers and multiplied; both of them experienced both of their reactions. She liked the kiss, no doubt about that, and so he continued kissing her, lifting his free hand to draw her closer, bring her into a half-embrace made ridiculously awkward by the placement of their stools. The air grew even more golden; he was enveloped in a haze that replicated, in a translucent fashion, the precise color of Amalie’s hair. He was flushed with heat and tingling with delight-or she was-or they both were.