“Of the apocalypse?” I ask, utterly confused. “No, I don’t think so.”
“There are similarities. Death—Armin. A sword—Miya. A crown—you. And the scales…”
A flash of the premonition of the halo of blonde hair and the orbs balanced in both hands. A cold sweat covers my skin and a ball of nausea builds in my stomach.
“We’re a lot of things, Hildi, but the Four Horsemen is a stretch. But that doesn’t mean the symbols aren’t important. Thank you for telling me.”
We work silently across from one another, and I’m reading about how the Academy was originally built on the battlefield of one of the early Crusades when the hairs on my neck stand on end. That may explain the overwhelming feeling of darkness on the bottom levels of the buildings. All that death. I sense Hildi’s gaze and look up to find her watching me.
“I owe you an apology,” she says quickly. “Last night was just…”
Oh gods, we’re doing this.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not. I made you uncomfortable,” her cheeks flush, “and put you in a very awkward position.”
“Seriously, it’s fine.”
“Rupert,” she says, chin lowered, “I begged you. It’s not fine, you were obviously not interested, or at least a gentleman.”
I grimace, feeling worse. “Don’t give me too much credit.”
“I don’t understand.”
She holds my eye and I feel this need, no more than that, a compulsion, to reveal myself.
“I’m not Marshal, or Agis or Armin. I’m not even making a choice like Miya.” I look down at the ancient papers in front of me, feeling lost. “I didn’t do anything because I panicked.”
“You were scared?”
“No,” I say defensively. “Intimidated is probably a better word, but that’s not really the issue.” I run my hands down my thighs, nervously. “It’s impossible for me to explain to you my upbringing. There were a lot of expect
ations on me by my father and his advisors, many of whom were connected to the church.”
She watches me closely and my heart beats erratically in my chest. I’ve gone hundreds of years without discussing this, I don’t know why I’m doing it now.
“Sex was to be saved for something holy, or that’s what I was told. The right woman blessed by the church, my father, and tradition. Marshal thinks they were manipulating me to keep me focused on war and conquering, that the slightest distraction would cost them their empire.” I shake my head. “He’s probably right.”
“Are you saying you’re like, a really old virgin?” she asks.
“No!” I shout, then realize we’re still in the library. “No. I’m not. There’s just a lot of…” I gesture to my head, “stuff wrapped around it.” Guilt and penance. Self-loathing and regret. “Women were brought to me a objects. No better than concubines. Slaves. There was no equality. No love. Even more than the others, I had no idea how to maintain a normal relationship of any kind, even just sexual with a woman.”
“Royalty treats sex differently. Many have harems.”
I look away, unable to make eye contact. “Regardless, I didn’t want to tie you up in that. We’re partners, here on a mission, I couldn’t screw that up with my fucked-up issues.” I laugh darkly. “Little good that did.”
“So what I’m hearing is that you’re pretty normal. You have hang-ups, which is entirely reasonable for someone your age.” She flashes me a grin. “And we both completely embarrassed ourselves last night. I guess that makes us even.”
“I guess maybe it does.”
The librarian calls out, alerting us to the building closing. We pack away our books and my journal lands on the table. It falls open to the last page I’d had open and before I get to it, Hildi snatches it off the table.
“What is this?” she asks.
“A sketch of a premonition I’ve been having.”
“Is that me?”