2 Coloine

We didn’t do anything but sleep. In fact, Cederic was asleep when I came to his room, still fully dressed and lying on his back, mouth slightly open, snoring. I managed to wake him enough that I could help him take his clothes off, but I don’t think he was conscious. He’d had a very full thirty-seven hours.

I made sure the door was locked, undressed and hid my clothes in his wardrobe—if someone came in on us unexpectedly, I could conceal myself quickly, but women’s clothing on Cederic’s floor would be bound to draw attention—turned out the light, and snuggled up next to him. It’s nice, sleeping with someone you love, and I lay awake enjoying the feeling for a while before falling asleep myself.

He woke me in the morning, not on purpose, but by making a sudden movement that jostled me awake. I think he was surprised to find me there. “Sesskia,” he said, “this is far too dangerous. If you’re seen—”

I worked the concealment pouvra, then went insubstantial and sat up, dramatically sweeping my hand through the pillow, not that he could see it. “I’m sorry, did you say ‘isn’t it fortunate you can be virtually invisible and walk through walls so we can spend every night together and not get caught’?”

He rolled onto his back, threw one arm over his eyes, and laughed. “Of course. I should have remembered that. I wasn’t thinking very clearly yesterday, was I?”

“You were not, but I think you had a good excuse, what with everything that happened,” I said, lying down next to him so he could put his arms around me, “but you should feel ashamed of yourself, taking advantage of an ignorant otherworlder who had to find out she was married from someone else.”

He groaned and held me tighter. “I truly was not thinking clearly,” he said. “I assume you decided to forgive me, since you are here now.”

“I decided you were worth being married to,” I said, and then he kissed me, and we forgot about talking for a while. That left us with no time for anything else before we had to be at the breakfast table, not that I’m complaining, but it means that I still don’t know what will happen when our worlds come together.

It’s hard during the day, him treating me with the same polite, self-controlled attitude he’s always demonstrated toward me, me doing my best to respond in the same vein. I’m so eager, as I’m writing this, for the rest of the Sais to return to their rooms for bed so I can go to him, and not because of the sex, which is admittedly wonderful; when we’re together, I can forget that we have a deadline and very little idea of how to bring two worlds together safely. Vorantor discovered today that there will still be destruction, even if we’re successful, and while I was moderately amused that no one took him seriously until Cederic confirmed his conclusions, it fills me with dread.

Still no idea how I might manifest th’an the way I do pouvrin, though I don’t know why I thought we’d figure that out quickly. I’m impatient, and worried that even if I do learn how, it won’t have any effect on the final kathana. I refuse to fall into despair, though. That will do no one any good.

Time for me to join Cederic. If I’m filled with dread, I can only imagine how he feels, bearing not only this burden but the need to keep Vorantor in check and the fear of what demands the God-Empress might make on us, though I share that last fear. She hasn’t called me into her presence since the disastrous tour of Colosse, and I know it has to come soon; I wish it would, so I could stop feeling as if a tidal wave were somewhere on the horizon, unstoppably approaching. I am so grateful to have the comfort of Cederic’s support, grateful too that I can do the same for him.