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The large room glows with the first light of the sun, its edges sharpening in Densi’s blurred vision. She feels the weight of her own heart, a slow, dull thud, rising above the hush. Shadows stretch across the floor in hesitant waves, and the memory of petrichor and salt stings more sharply than the breeze from the open window. Even before she moves, she knows the bed that once cradled her dreams will betray her again with another restless night’s aches. The sound pulses inside her—her heartbeat, thick and uncertain, echoing the poison she suspects lingers in her veins. She had hoped it would sever Hastur’s hold. The fates, it seems, have answered only with silence. Her laugh is jagged and unwanted, scraping out into the brittle morning stillness. Even the ornate gold-trimmed ceiling, so lavish and far, seems to shiver under the cold press of her thoughts.
Densi rose with a soft sigh, her eyes drawn to the lavender sky outside. Morning’s chorus of birds and far-off seagulls spilled into the room, a winding tapestry of sound. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, her dress sleeve inching up her arm. For a moment, her fingertips drifted over the pink embroidery against the pale yellow plainness of her nightgown. Blood once seeped along this stitch, warm and sudden, her sister’s fingers clutching the same fabric. The freckles on her arm stood out from the pallor of her skin. As she moved to close the window before Aseem’s return, the fabric slipped back down. A shrike alighted on the sill, locking eyes with her for a fleeting moment before vanishing. Densi closed the window. A gentle knock echoed at the door.
“Sollys, you simply have to get back in bed,” Aseem called, his voice warm and coaxing. He swept a hand through his thick Raven hair, fingertips pausing over the scar, almost hoping it could shield him from the world’s weight. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, hands outstretched. Densi hesitated, shaking her head, but when he reached her, she surrendered and took his hands. “Sollys, come now. It’s still early. I wish to lie in bed with my wife.”
Densi shook her head, shoulders hunched in a defeated shrug. She sat beside Aseem on the bed, which groaned beneath them. Her gaze darted everywhere but to his, searching for any distraction—even the distant click of a servant’s heels. A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face as she tried to shield Aseem from pain, and she made a subtle effort to create distance between them. “You’re allowed to leave me, you know,” she whispered, voice trembling. Tears threatened as she eased her hands from his grip, dread swirling in her stomach. Densi shook her head against his shoulder, careful not to mess up his amethyst banyan. “You don’t have to keep doing this.” Aseem rested his cheek briefly against her hair, grounding himself before he spoke again. She twisted her fingers, voluminous chestnut hair falling like a curtain over her face. Aseem brushed her hair aside and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.
“A life is not something that happens without you in it,” he proclaimed. “And I am not finished doing what is mine to do.” Aseem rested his head in his hands, their fingers still entwined. He drew a slow breath, steadying himself before sitting up. He tapped her freckled cheek with his knuckle. Densi melted into the pillows, wiping away the last of her tears. Aseem lifted her dress hem and pressed a kiss to her ankle, drawing a laugh from her. As he rose, his hands kneaded warmth into her cold thigh, leaving a print behind. She inhaled softly at his touch.
"I don’t want you to die, Skatt. You aren’t the one he wants," Densi burst out. One hand pressed to her chest, the other tugged Aseem closer. Even with her eyes closed, a bitter metallic taste coated her tongue, as if she had bitten into iron. Dread clung to her, aches gnawing at her bones. Trying to banish the thoughts, she closed her eyes tight. She glanced at Aseem, whose furrowed brow made him look almost wounded.
“We can worry about that later. So there’s no need to be sad, Skatt,” Densi murmured with a gentle smile, her fingers tracing the rough scar that claimed a third of his face. For a heartbeat, a splintered image forced itself between thoughts: her sister’s dress, embroidery blackened and curling, the smell of burning silk hanging in the air. Densi banished the memory, her hand trembling as she traced Aseem’s scar. His hand rose to meet hers, and he sighed, resting his head in her palm. Together, they found comfort in their closeness, letting the moment settle into quiet reassurance. Densi shook her head against his shoulder, careful not to mess up his banyan.
“It’s not that,” Aseem said, gathering her hands and laying them gently on the bed. “Sollys, you have never told me what you found in that cave.” He sighed. Densi’s features twisted. A visceral response rooted in memories she could not bring herself to discuss. As her silence stretched on, Aseem's initial concern deepened into frustration. Deepened by a longing to understand the pain she has endured. Seeking composure for himself, he focused on the vase of violets and forget-me-nots she had brought, the ones sitting on the altar. Allowing their presence to steady him. He closed his eyes, then met her gaze—stormy with blues and browns.
“Not this, please?” Densi hissed. She pulled her hands from his warmth and hunched forward, fingers twisting the Pink embroidery on her sleeve. If she spoke it aloud, the horror would belong to him too—and she loved him too much to make him carry it. Her sneer flashed, teeth bared. “If I told you, you could get hurt again, or worse, die.” She scoffed.
“Death itself would have to steal me away.” Aseem protested, rising and crossing to the window in two long strides. Silence fell between them, cold and weighty, as the lavender sky gave way to morning blue. He folded his arms, gazing out at the calm sea. “I want the details, sollys. We could bring in a new healer.” The bite in Aseem’s voice startled Densi. She got up next to him.
“No more healers,” Densi voiced sharply. She drew a breath before tying again, quieter. “Please,” Aseem turned towards her, alarmed by the edge in her voice. Densi caught his dark copper wrists. She didn’t until she stepped closer a moment later.
“Every time we bring a new one in,” she continued. Her hands find his waist, “ they ask the same questions. They want the same answers. And when I give them the stuff they’re looking for, they look at you.” Her jaw tightened,” They start wondering why you decide to stay. Why do you believe me?”
The sting of frankincense lingered on his clothes, catching in Densi's breath and leaving her chest aching. She steadied herself, lowering her voice almost as if the walls could carry it away. “I can endure being called mad. I can endure when they tell me that I’m dying. I refuse to endure them putting doubt in you, or worse, deciding you're part of the problem. Aseem opened and closed his mouth several times before stopping.
“You already bear enough from me,” Densi said. “I won’t be handed to another healer’s curiosity and call it hope.“ Her hands found the edges of his banyan, gripping it like an anchor. “When, if, there’s any risk to take, it’ll be mine.” Aseem exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled, and drew her back into him. One hand settled at the small of her back, steady, and familiar.
“You speak as if care is something I can set down,” he said quietly. Not raised. just soothing “As if it is a coat I can leave behind.” Densi wouldn’t make eye contact with him for the second time in the last two hours. Repentant, almost guilty of how Aseem was treating her. So instead of looking at him, she focused on the new altar that she had set up. She had hoped it would bring her some peace of mind. And in some aspect, it did. She wanted some space for Lady Irene. Densi had once hoped it would catch the goddess's attention.
“Listen to me,” he said, low. “We will not decide everything now. It is early. Neither of us has eaten. And your hands are cold.” He pulled back just enough to look at her, his brow drawn, not with anger, but with resolve. “I’ll go get Lesrila. Then have some breakfast ready when you get to the dining hall.” Aseem pulled out of the hug completely, quietly, looking back at Densi before making his way out of the room.