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“The princess – ” York said, and waited. He waited until Asch, sitting at the little table in their inn room and shivering, dragged his gaze over. Then York widened his already-round eyes, the better to impose eye contact. “The princess is in Keterberg.”
“So they're in Keterberg. So what?”
York gestured around the room. “We're also in Keterberg.”
“Stop wasting my time.”
“It's an awfully cold evening for a princess to be walking around. Alone. Dark too. In a city she doesn't know well.”
Asch turned away to sip his tea, which had dropped to lukewarm several minutes ago. Even paying extra for a small portable stove couldn't warm their room above bone-chilling. “Natalia knows how to navigate a city on her own.” She'd been doing it since she was eight, both with and without him, all up and down Baticul's many levels, he could have told York. But he knew better than to offer up any unnecessary reminiscences of his childhood. The Dark Wings had a way of hitting him sideways with them at unguarded moments.
“Just saying,” York said, pulling the blanket off of one of the beds and wrapping it around his shoulders, “she looked real cold, and real alone.”
Asch had the self-discipline not to ask York where he'd seen her. But it helped that he didn't have to. As he got up, telling York he needed to buy supplies (because he did), he reflected that if Natalia were on her own, she was probably getting maintenance for her bow and arrows. There were a couple of weapon shops in the city, but she'd want the best fletcher, and that meant Chelsea's on Spruce Street.
As Asch pulled his coat around him and tucked the ends of his scarf in, he gave himself a brief but firm lecture. No interaction. No wasting time. Certainly no getting her hopes up, because only a wretch would be so cruel as to – as to – he searched for the right words – toy with her affections when there was no way he could actually – be anything – to her. Right. He'd just put eyes on her to see she was all right, shadow her to the Megalofrederica to make sure she got back safely, and then go about his own business.
And he felt confident that he would do exactly that. He'd done so before. Not gone out of his way to tail Natalia. But when he realized the replica and his team were near, he'd sometimes taken the time to surveil them, make sure everything was all right. Sometimes he ended up talking to them, but most often he doubted even the Necromancer had realized he'd been near.
He caught Natalia right as she was stepping out from Chelsea's, resettling the buckle of her quiver across her front. As he dropped back into the shadows of a nearby building, he ran his eyes up and down her body. (It was the most efficient means of seeing whether or not she was hurt.) She was bundled up against the cold, a round furred hat over her curls, and he could see the pink of her cheeks and nose even at this distance. She came down the steps from the shop and paused, glancing up and down the street, and Asch watched her, loving the shape her long legs made when she paused, bent her left knee and lifted that heel.
He gave himself a mental shake, though he also smiled slightly at himself. Okay. Now to shadow her on her way back and that would be that.
Natalia looked left down the street, then up right. She took several steps out onto the cobbles, casting back and forth again. And she took several more down the street, still looking around, dodging the passersby.
“Lost, miss?”
Asch's breath caught as a young man broke from the foot traffic and approached her, and he moved sidelong through the shadows, creating a better line of attack. Potential line of attack.
“Oh, no.” Natalia's voice was a bit higher than usual. Apprehensive? “I was only looking for Orlando's food stand. The one with all the pasta and bread?”
“Oh, yeah.” The man also looked up and down the street. Asch drew in a slow breath. The moment the man said, Oh I know where it is or Let me help you look for it, miss, we'll start in this secluded alley, Asch was going to start with a leap, come down with a slash, probably follow it with fifth fonons, if any could be found in this city-sized igloo.
The man said, “It's usually here, but I don't...”
“I know,” Natalia said. “I saw it earlier when I came in to shop, and I was so hoping to try their macaroni and cheese.”
The man tipped his hat. “Sorry, miss. Evening.” And then he walked on.
Asch should've let out his breath, seeing Natalia perfectly safe, but he was focused on her face. She'd turned slightly in his direction, and even this far away he could see the disappointment in the crease between her brows, the sad squinch of her lips. His breath remained caught as he saw her breastbone rise and fall in a heavy sigh. Then she turned to walk up the street, on the route that would take her to Megalofrederica.
Asch took one quick breath, then another, then he stepped out from the shadows at just the last moment, almost bearing down at her. Natalia jumped a step backwards, her arm hooking back towards her bow – then she blinked, recognizing him. “Oh – Asch!”
“You should be more on guard,” Asch said as if he'd intended to startle her.
She didn't look chagrined. She was smiling, though hesitantly. “Why are you in Keterberg? We haven't seen you in so long.”
“I've been busy.” He had. He was. “Anyway, you're looking for the Orlando food stall, right?”
“Yes.” She tipped her head. “Were you spying on me?”
“Of course not, I was just walking. If I was spying, you'd never know about it.”
“Indeed?”
She'd pursed her lips, just a bit, raising her brows as she looked over, and it sent a delightful shock through his stomach. So he broke eye contact and made his tone brisk. “Orlando sets up shop on Bank Street after eight o' clock. So go get your macaroni there.” Had he really just said that, go get your macaroni there, what the hell –
“Thank you, Asch!” She started off down the street – then looked over her shoulder. “Won't you come too?”
I have things to do. He should say it. She'd be fine. She preferred the replica, anyway. Even if she'd like his company, there was no point in getting close, he was dying, he had no life with her in Baticul –
“Only... only if you want me to.” He'd meant to say it dismissively, but it felt like he didn't have enough air.
Her cheeks were pink. Pinker? “I'd like that.”
Telling himself he was just doing her a favor, he fell into a step beside her, making sure there was suitable distance between them. He had no idea what to say to her as they walked. He didn't know if he even wanted to talk. He tracked the streets as they went, checking for any signs of danger, but most of his focus was on her, just to his left.
“Do you have much business in Keterberg?” She was very polite, almost tea-party polite.
“Yes. The Dark Wings can take care of some things, but there's a lot I need to do myself.”
“Oh...” Her voice dropped in tone. Hearing it, Asch only then realized how bright it had been when she'd first spoken to him. “Yes, of course.” He glanced over. She was looking down as they walked, her lashes golden fans over her eyes.
It was a good thing no bandits chose that precise moment to leap from the rooftops and curbstomp them because all of Asch's attention was on Natalia, trying to figure out what the hell had done this. “What's wrong? Did the Dark Wings do something to you? Did they insult you?”
“No – no.” She lifted her chin, pulling her shoulders back. And her voice grew cool. “It's absolutely nothing, Asch.”
It was also a good thing a crack didn't open up along the street, a crack leading down to the planet's core, and Van didn't choose that moment to leap fully resurrected from its depths because Asch was still staring at Natalia's profile. “What the hell's set you off?”
She only became colder. “There's no need to swear.”
“Then tell me what's going on!”
“Oh, look.” She crimped a haughty little smile over her lips. “Orlando's food stand.”
Asch knew she knew he wouldn't keep arguing where strangers would hear. It was less about good breeding than not wanting to look like an idiot around witnesses. So he closed his jaw, shooting her a glare she didn't notice before they fell into the long line winding its way up to the food stand. As people filed in behind them, Asch stepped a tick closer to her, making room for them but also making sure strangers didn't get in her space.
He wasn't touching her, but he was suddenly sharply, warmly aware of how close she was. Was aware, even in a way, that she was aware of it, holding herself still, her breaths a little shallow. But when he looked over, she only narrowed her eyes and gave him the haughty profile again.
Despite the flush on her cheeks.
Well. It was Keterberg, it was cold.
They didn't speak as they moved slowly forward. Asch kept glancing over at her, down at her elbow, unable to shake the idea of taking it, just lightly, socially. People did that sort of thing all of the time. It didn't mean anything, it just meant you were mindful of the person you were with. Probably the replica touched her lightly all of the time, probably the replica didn't give it a second thought, didn't even realize how lucky he was to be able to travel with –
He took several deep breaths, gazing out across the street until the heat eased in his chest.
Asch looked over. Natalia quickly turned away, her mouth crimping now into a frown.
“Evening, miss, sir,” said the chef manning the cart when they reached the front. “What can I get you?”
Natalia had been reading the menu on its placard. The cart boasted all sorts of pasta and bread treats, but it was known for its macaroni and cheese, which could be eaten in bowls and wraps and cones and fancied up with no end of add ins. “Oh my,” Natalia said. “There are so many options, but... I believe I'd like to try the classic macaroni and cheese, thank you.”
The chef dolloped a generous helping into a tomato-basil cone and handed it over with a small fork. “And you, sir?”
“Nothing, thanks.” He was going to leave it at that, but Natalia looked over in surprise. Not about to admit he always felt uncoordinated eating while walking, Asch lied. “I already ate. How much?”
“Oh no, you don't have to pay,” Natalia said.
“Your hands are full.” Asch didn't look at her as he counted out the gald. They made their way from the cart, turning left. Now that she was eating, Natalia was no longer being haughty. Asch debated with himself, then reasoned that just making small talk wouldn't be any kind of mistake. “Is it good?”
“Very! Better than back at home. And certainly better than when I tried to recreate the royal cook's recipe. It – ” she glanced over, wincing and smiling in the same movement “ – it stuck to the bottom of the pot and we had to throw the pot away.”
“Well – maybe they were bad ingredients.”
Her smile deepened. “Thank you for lying.”
“Never mind.”
“Would you like some?”
He glanced at her, then away. Would she really do something this intimate, offer to share her food so casually? Would she do so to the replica? To Guy? “No.”
“Asch, are you in a hurry?”
He suddenly realized he'd been walking fast. He slowed their pace back down again. “No – though – I need to meet up with the Dark Wings.” He didn't. He was just –
“Oh...”
And that note was back in her voice again. He looked over to see her frowning into her macaroni, the macaroni that had made her so happy.
“What the hell is it? What did the Dark Wings do?” For people so hell-bent on helping him make friends, they sure were doing a great job of ruining his love li –
– family life. Friend life. Natalia life?
“They didn't do anything – ”
“No, they clearly did – ”
“Don't take that kind of tone!”
“Don't treat me like I'm some kind of idiot!”
Natalia stopped walking, glaring at him. She also took a moment to eat another forkful of macaroni, but her expression didn't flicker, so perhaps she wasn't even aware of it. Asch squared himself to her, glaring back, waiting. They'd done this kind of thing a lot as children, though now he had the advantage of being taller than her. A little.
“When did – ” Natalia started. “When were you going to tell me that you – ”
And then she didn't go on. She stood there, glaring, and in another moment Asch realized there were tears building in her eyes.
“Natalia – what the hell?” He softened his voice, but it still came out more exasperated than tender. “Just tell me!”
Natalia broke the eye contact, looking off to the side. Her chin rumpled, then began to quiver. Her jaw was tight.
“Natalia – ”
“I know – it's none of my business. Your life is your own concern. But – but I just wish that you had been the one to tell me that – your heart – is engaged.”
“My what?” Engaged? Heart? Wait, had the Dark Wings told her that he loved her (how obvious had he been?) and it upset her (why did it upset her?)
Natalia took a deep breath. “Your heart. You're involved. With someone. The woman you travel with, she said – she implied – ”
“Noir?”
“Yes. Well, I suppose she didn't exactly imply that your – heart – was engaged. But she – ” Natalia glanced over quickly, and the blush that flooded her cheeks was rather darker than he'd seen before. “She – um – alluded to your involvement.”
Asch's brain was working through all this, slowly but doggedly, and he'd gotten far enough along that annoyance broke through his bafflement. “What involvement?”
Natalia let out a huff, though the tears were still there, waiting to fall. “She said that you – know how to make a woman happy.”
Asch didn't answer.
Natalia did a little stomp of her right heel. “As a princess, I know I am somewhat sheltered, but I know what that means. And I – as I said, I have no right to object, because your life is your own, I only wish that – ” one tear, then a second escaped down her cheek “ – that I had learned about it from you, in a more gentle way.”
He shook his head. “No. I don't – ” He barely stopped short of saying I don't know how to make a woman happy, and thinking that, that made him blush too. Also make him sharpen his tone. “Don't be an idiot, I don't have anything to do with Noir! I don't even know why she'd say that.”
“T-truly?”
“Yes!”
“But she's – she's quite beautiful, and I know you – I imagine you must associate quite closely with the Dark Wings.”
Asch shrugged. He'd met Noir at age fifteen, right in the throes of puberty, and he'd certainly noticed her. But back then, her flirting and teasing had left him more uncomfortable than intrigued, and by now he'd matured enough to realize she wasn't serious about any of it.
“She's not that beautiful,” he said, which he felt was true. Then, realizing it also sounded churlish, he added, “She only has girlfriends.”
“Oh!” Natalia's eyes rounded.
“But, I mean – even if she didn't – you really think I'd... with her?”
“Well, I didn't see why you wouldn't – ”
“Of course I wouldn't,” he said, edging towards snapping it. “I – ” I have you he'd almost said, before realizing, no, he didn't have her, Luke had her, she had been Luke's fiancee, Luke was dead. And he was dying, so – anyway –
And what a stupid thing to imply, that he'd been saving himself or something all these years, because he hadn't, not for some princess he'd never see again and who didn't even recognize she was living with a fake.
He'd just – there'd never been anyone he'd wanted to – never thought it would make sense – and he didn't have time for that kind of –
As his thoughts flurried, he realized Natalia was watching him, all her attention on him, her eyes huge and dark but somehow still shimmering. He could see her breath, a delicate cloud from her parted lips.
“Never mind,” he finished. “Forget it.”
“I'm sorry for prying. I feel like I've made a fool of myself.”
“It's not important. We should head back.”
They fell into step again, the quiet seconds helping to calm Asch's thoughts back down. Bringing him enough calm to realize that Natalia hadn't just been cold and haughty. She'd been jealous.
He glanced at her. Wished she would say something so they could keep talking. He had no idea what to say, but he knew they were walking down the road, the seconds were ticking by and vanishing. All of the things he thought of to say were wrong –
You're much prettier than Noir.
I only ever think of you.
Were you jealous?
Do you want to travel with me too?
Have you ever kissed the replica?
Do you just miss the person I used to be?
He faced forward. The minutes would have to pass by. His time with her would just have to be wasted.
Their walk was only interrupted when Natalia finished her macaroni and paused to drop the rest of her cone in a trashcan by one of the buildings. As she came back to him, she turned her head to study the snowy park they were passing, the streetlamps glowing off the rounded curves of snowmen and igloos and buried bushes. One of the snow-throwing catapults stood abandoned, a snowball still in its basket.
“Do you remember – ” Asch started.
“Yes.” She smiled up at him. He smiled back quickly, before he could convince himself not to.
When he was eight and she was ten, they'd read a book about besieging castles. There wasn't much snowfall in Baticul, but after the first significant storm that winter, they'd taken a large salad bowl from the manor's kitchen and scraped together enough snow to fill it. Then they'd climbed up to one of the manor's eaves and waited for ages – it had probably only been a few minutes – until an adult who wasn't either of their parents walked underneath. The Score had selected Ramdas for misfortune and they'd dumped the whole load between his curls. Afterwards, they'd felt bad, seeing how wet he'd gotten, and they apologized.
But evidently that guilt was a thing of the past, and, looking at each other, both of their smiles stretched into grins.
“Imagine if we'd had one of those,” Asch said, jerking his chin towards the catapult.
“I think we're lucky Ramdas never told anyone. That really was quite awful of us.”
When they turned to continue their walk, the silence felt warmer. Asch reminded himself not to get Natalia's hopes up (if she even were hoping), but he let himself walk closer to her, and as he scanned around for potential dangers, he let his eyes rest on her every so often, admiring her assured stride, the way her curls bounced around her scarf.
The replica could not possibly understand how lucky he was. Asch bit back the temptation to ask if Natalia wanted to join him. Even if it made sense for his team to have a healer. Even if –
“Asch.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes?”
She faced forward, her voice soft but serious. “Would you consider joining us?”
He almost said no immediately, his chest, his throat tightening.
“Not permanently, perhaps, but at least for a time? I'm sure we would benefit from your help.”
The answer was no. No, he was not going to stand to the side and take orders from a failed copy of himself. But he had no way of saying that that Natalia would accept. She liked the damn replica, she preferred him. “No,” he said roughly. He felt her turn to him, saw the bright swing of her hair out of the corner of his eye. He braced for whatever she was going to say – then she said nothing, faced the street again. The tight feeling in his chest loosened, though not with relief. If anything, it left him vaguely hollow.
“Do you want me to?” he asked.
“Of course I do.”
“We'd just fight all of the time.”
“You and Luke? Or – you and I?”
“You and I. Sooner or later, I always – ” He shook his head, unwilling to say, sooner or later I always do something to hurt you.
“Perhaps we're arguing because...” And then she too very clearly avoided saying something. He had a feeling what it might've been. They argued because he was stubborn? This was all supposed to be his fault?
They turned a corner. At the end of the street, Megalofrederica glowed, overpowering the glows of the streetlights. Asch's heart sank. Ridiculous. If he really wanted to spend so much time with Natalia, he should just join –
The counterargument hit his brain, almost as clearly as if he'd said it aloud: Natalia wasn't worth it, the indignity of traveling with the replica.
His thoughts scattered in momentary confusion, contradiction. He would die for Natalia. He'd bodily protected her, in Baticul, in Ortion Cavern. He almost, in a perverse way, craved some reason to shield her, because while it was too dangerous to say any of the things in his heart, he could still justify demonstrating his love if it protected her.
He would, he felt with all sincerity, sacrifice anything for Natalia.
But join the replica?
It wasn't that simple, he hastened to explain to himself. He couldn't tell Natalia he loved her because that would only make it more painful for her when he died. And he couldn't very well be around Natalia, day in and day out, and not reveal – everything. And, anyway, he needed to stay apart from the others because that allowed him to work faster, that allowed him to draw the God-Generals' attention away from the replica, that allowed him to search for the Jewel.
And he wouldn't take orders from the replica, not if the replica couldn't even learn to pull himself together and stand on his own.
They were at the Megalofrederica's door. “All right,” Asch said. “You can go.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Are you dismissing me?”
He shook his head at himself. “You should still get inside.”
“Won't you come in?” She turned towards him, squaring herself as he'd done earlier, but less aggressively. “We'd be glad to have you, truly. For any amount of time.”
He thought of Guy's frown, of the replica's flinch. “I think you're overstating things.”
“Well – ” her blush returned “ – I can only speak for myself.”
“Natalia – ” He hadn't meant to say her name, let alone that softly. He ran his hand through his hair, mostly because it gave him an excuse to step back.
Now she was smiling. What the hell did he ever do that should make her smile? He was only going to disappoint her – he was going to die, she needed to forget about him –
“Thank you for walking me back.”
“Good night.”
“Asch – ”
He looked down. She was holding her hand out, just slightly.
He knew he shouldn't. But he couldn't just leave her there, hoping, waiting, not to her face. He reached his hand out, let her take it, then fold it between her own. Their fingers curved around each others', instinctively fitting close.
“Thank you,” she said again.
“Enough.”
“No, you don't understand. Earlier, I was telling the others that I was hoping to have a wonderful moonlit walk through Keterburg.” It wasn't moonlit, but Asch was looking into her eyes and saw no point in saying so. “I – I wanted to walk with you, and then suddenly there you were. I – truly, I never hoped for so much.”
“This wasn't anything.” He wanted to say it harshly, but couldn't bring himself to.
“I've seen so much of the world over the last year. Wherever we've gone, I've wished I could see it with you.”
It was so cold, everywhere but where their hands touched. And on his face, he realized, though he didn't think about the blood rushing under his skin. He'd noticed that he could still see her cloudy breath, that it was mingling with his own. Her eyelashes were catching the light, throwing shadows down her cheeks. She still had the small chicken pox scar under her right eye. When had he let her step this close?
“Natalia,” he whispered. “There's nothing I – ”
“Natalia,” he said again with more strength, his shoulders bracing, about to pull away. Then in another heartbeat he stepped forward, only closed his eyes when his mouth met hers, when she gasped softly but pressed against him. His free hand found her shoulder, gripping her through the coat, the air hot and cold around him.
He shouldn't. He knew it. They had no future. You didn't kiss a princess while promising her nothing, not unless you meant to insult her.
At the same time, this was real, this wasn't a daydream. Nothing could ever take the reality of this away from them.
She pulled away first, but so softly, her breath fanning his face. She was smiling, her face brilliant, but also too far away now. This far away, he'd have to make the decision to turn away, she'd have to make the decision to go inside. He took his hand from her shoulder and slid it against her cheek, then drew her in, their foreheads touching, too close to really see each other clearly.
“Asch!” she said, voice only just loud enough to hear.
He closed his eyes. “I shouldn't have done that – ”
“No! No, it was wonderful.”
She didn't know he was dying. She didn't know. He shook his head, but he didn't pull away.
“Asch, please come with us.”
Asch caught his breath, about to speak. Fine, he could say. Just for a little while. Just to make sure you all don't mess up.
No, he could also say. Don't ever ask me again. It's for your own good.
He remained unsure, even as he leaned forward and kissed her again, losing himself in another few heartbeats before he had to decide his future, where the world was hot and cold.