It was like he’d been slapped. She was right, but he hadn’t expected so much vehemence out of nowhere. He averted his eyes. “Right. Sorry.”
She expelled a breath. “No, I’m sorry. That… I don’t know… I guess I’m still adjusting to this whole life myself. There’s a hierarchy to everything at the Chromeria, Kip, and it’s not easy to adjust to. I don’t even know if it’s good to adjust to it. But once you know your place, you can figure out how you’re supposed to deal with everyone else, even people you don’t know. It does simplify things. I just—after the last three years as a monochrome in an obscure color, and a Tyrean on top of that, I never liked the whole hierarchy. But I’d finally come to terms with my place in it, and I was almost finished with my training and ready to head out into my shitty life. Now I’m a bichrome and everything’s different, overnight. I’m going to have to stay at the Chromeria for another couple of years, and my life will be totally different. People see me now.” She smiled ruefully, sadly. “I guess you know all about having everything change in a blink. The thing is, I like my new life. I have new clothes, jewelry, an allowance. A room slave. I guess what I’m seeing is that maybe I didn’t hate the hierarchy, maybe I just hated being at the bottom of it. So every time I enjoy something, it feels like confirmation that I’m a hypocrite.”
“I’ll promise to make your life as difficult as possible, if it’ll make you happy,” Kip said.
She hit his shoulder playfully, but it nailed a sensitive spot. “You’re a real lifesaver, Kip.” She grinned, though, as he rubbed his shoulder. Then her smile faded again. “I guess I should take my own advice and start dealing with how things are. You’re the Prism’s son, I’m your tutor. I shouldn’t hit you. Orholam, you’re the Prism’s son, how dare I?”
Kip’s chest tightened. “No!” he almost shouted. The room slaves shot looks at him. He lowered his voice, embarrassed. “Liv, swear to me you won’t. I—”
What were you going to say, Kip? I’ve been in love with you since I can remember? Right.
“I couldn’t bear losing my last anchor to Rekton,” he said instead, all the words tripping over each other. “You’re the only one who knew me before all this.”
Great, good job making it seem like it’s totally impersonal. I don’t care about you, I just care about Rekton.
“I mean… Liv, you know me, you’re—” You’re my friend? That sounds a little presumptuous, doesn’t it? What if she’s never thought of you as a friend?
“You’re from Rekton, too,” he said instead, lamely. Impersonal again. Damn! “I need someone to talk to, and I’ve always… admired you.”
Admired? Like she’s a painting?
“I mean, I appreciate—”
Appreciate. Kind of the same as admire, isn’t it? Like she’s a good cook?
Orholam’s balls, this is agony! Ah, a way out! Not appreciate her, but appreciate how she does something.
“I appreciate how you—” How she whats?
How she looks in that one too-small green shirt she used to—shit!
“—have always been so nice to me.”
Now you’re the pleading, awkward child again. Well done. Kip Silver Tongue, they ought to call you.
I’m never going to speak to another woman again.
Kip could barely stand to look at Liv after that performance, but she waited until he met her eyes, leery.
“Why, Kip, are you flirting with me?!” she asked.
It was like Kip had stepped into that nightmare where he walked to the Midsummer’s Dance on the green, barely registering the curious glances until he stepped up on the stage and the music stopped, every dancer missed their steps, and everyone turned to look at him. And then he noticed he was naked. And then everyone started laughing. Pointing. Making jokes.
No, this was worse. He wasn’t going to wake from this. All the blood had drained from his face. Evernight, it had drained from everywhere. He had no idea where it had all gone, but it had taken his ability to speak with it.
“Kip, I’m kidding,” Liv said.
His mouth moved. Blood coming back. Thoughts slower.
“Not often that you’re left with nothing to say,” Liv said, poking him. His thoughts on that must have shown, because she smirked. “If you don’t watch it, I’ll ruffle your hair.”
“That’s it, I’m shaving my head!” Kip declared.
Liv laughed. “Enough, enough! No more digressions! I’ll never teach you anything if we keep on like this.”
“So,” Kip said, “will. Not the bad man. See? At least I remember where we got off track.”
Liv shook her head, amused. “Not so fast. First, Kip, you’ve got a deal. I’d love to be your friend. Maybe we can remind each other every now and again where we came from.”
Kip felt his ears getting hot. As if they’d ever cooled. “I’d like that a lot,” he said.
“Now, finally, will. Will covers a multitude of flaws, just as—”
“Love covers a multitude of sins,” a familiar voice declared from the door.
Both Kip’s and Liv’s heads snapped around. It was Master Danavis, Liv’s father, alive.
“Father? Father!” Liv literally shrieked. She jumped up and ran to her father and threw herself into his arms. Corvan laughed and squeezed her hard.
“I heard you were dead!” Liv said.
Um, yes, that was me. Kip, bringer of false bad tidings. “I didn’t believe it, but I was so—” Liv started crying.
Corvan closed his eyes, just holding his daughter. Kip wondered if there were some way he could escape.
And go where? This is my room.
But after a few moments, Corvan gently pushed his daughter back. “I am surprisingly durable. You look more lovely than ever, Aliviana.”
“I’m all cryey,” Liv protested, wiping her eyes.
“Perhaps even a smidge more beautiful than your mother. A claim I’d not have tolerated until this day, seeing the truth with my own eyes. She’d be so proud of you.”
“Father,” Liv said, her cheeks coloring, but pleased.
“Don’t you think she’s beautiful, Kip?”
Kip spluttered, making some kind of sound like he was drowning. Seriously, if embarrassment were a muscle, I’d be huge.
“Faather!” Liv said, horrified.
Corvan laughed. “My day wouldn’t have been complete without my daughter thinking I was embarrassing. Your pardon, Kip.”
“Erm,” Kip said eloquently. So he hadn’t been the target after all. Liv had. Kip was seeing where she got her wicked sense of humor.
“It’s wonderful to see you well, Kip… Kip Guile.” Corvan shook his head, astounded. “Liv, Kip, I’d love to catch up with you both, but the Prism has just given me work.”
“Work?” Liv asked.
“I’ve been put in charge of the defense of Garriston, under only the Prism himself.”
“What?!” Liv said. “You’re a general again?”
“Not as enviable a position as you might think. A softer bed doesn’t make for easier sleep when ten thousand lives rest in your shaking hands. King Garadul’s army will be here in about five days. They’ll attack the day after Midsummer’s. If we’re to hold this city, I’ll have to devise a more brilliant defense than I’ve ever seen. I need to go set some things in motion now, but Liv, I’ll come find you sometime after midnight. Kip, maybe tomorrow?”