A chill cloaked Carissa's skin at Elon's words. "I think... I think you have this handled, Elon." Akasha, she could quite easily kill, but Tervalyn? When she was sitting in her bed, not even defending herself?

Elon shook his head. "This is for you to do, Carissa." He extended her dagger towards her.

Carissa took it, and its tip wavered as her hands trembled. "Elon—"

"You can do this, Carissa. You need to."

Carissa swallowed and neared Tervalyn.

Tervalyn hadn't moved. The whites of her eyes were visible as she stared at the dagger, blood draining from her face.

Carissa stopped an arm's reach from her.

Tervalyn straightened. "My Queen." Her chin wobbled until she clenched her jaw.

Wasn't Tervalyn going to fight? Beg for mercy? Try to escape? Carissa's gut twisted into knots. Elon's Foresight was sometimes ambiguous... Could he have been mistaken in this case?

"Carissa."

He said her name like a plea. Carissa raised her dagger. She'd trusted him in other things, and she would trust him in this as well. Carissa lunged forward, her dagger swiping through the air.

Tervalyn scrambled backwards, but not in time. There was a wet ripping noise, then a dull thud as the blade hit a rib bone. Tervalyn gasped and clasped a hand to her side, red bubbling between her fingers.

Carissa lifted the blade, glossy with blood. Something was wrong. On the inside, Akasha had been empty, and she hadn't bled. Which meant Elon had been mistaken.

Tervalyn's shoulders sagged as she stared at her bloodied nightgown. With a wound like that, she wouldn't be alive for much longer.

Elon sighed. "Carissa, you need to finish what you've started."

Carissa stared at the reddened dagger.

"Carissa—"

"I can't."

"You need to."

She turned, giving Tervalyn her back. "Why can't you?"

"This is for you alone to do. Trusting me now will lead to trusting me in the future, which will be necessary in Esmeray. Please finish her, Carissa."

When Carissa had agreed to be his bride, she hadn't known she'd be his executioner as well. She turned back towards Tervalyn. "I'm sorry."

Tervalyn offered her a waning smile. "It's–It's alright."

Carissa drew her arm back, took a deep breath, and drove the dagger forward, aiming for Tervalyn's chest.

***

Elon was going to be sick.

He watched as Carissa lunged forward, only for Tervalyn to dive to the side, cracking her head on the stone, though not before Carissa's dagger sliced a chunk of flesh from her shoulder.

Tervalyn's performance was excellent, her affected suffering seeming so real he winced in sympathy. Carissa was obviously convinced it was real—he could see it from his position behind her. Her hands trembled, her face paled. She swiped at Tervayln again, and the witch did as she'd done before: waited until the last moment, just long enough for Carissa's dagger to cut her, before darting out of the way and avoiding a truly life-threatening injury.

"Elon," her voice broke on his name.

He squeezed the handle of his sword until his knuckles ached, wishing he could nudge her aside and finish Tervalyn for her. But if Carissa didn't trust him this time, if she didn't learn through this experience, she'd pay for it dearly in the future. "You can do it, love."

Carissa shook her head, yet half-heartedly swung her dagger.

It—conveniently—hit Tervalyn just enough to cause a visible injury, but not to kill her. Tervalyn was gasping and blubbering, tears spilling down her cheeks. Though her injuries likely weren't comfortable, Reapers were incredibly pain resilient. And of course, they never cried unless they intentionally chose to do so.

Carissa finally stood back, the dagger dangling loosely from her fingers.

The contents of his stomach roiled more violently, and he clenched his jaw. He'd seen this future before, and he didn't like its ending. "Carissa, Tervalyn is a Reaper. The injuries you've afflicted on her thus far barely affect her. Nothing will unless you give her an injury that's life-threatening."

But Carissa just shook her head, as he'd known she'd do. Then her fingers straightened.

The dagger clunked to the floor.

Tervalyn darted around Carissa and escaped into the hallway—but not before tossing a smirk Elon's way.

A chill rolled over him. He wished he could reach back into the past and change what had happened. Or perhaps go after Tervalyn himself and change the future. But he wouldn't do either. What had happened was the result of Carissa's actions, and he wouldn't alter that.

All he could do was love her, and that would have to be enough for what was to come.

Carissa drew her arms around herself, and her shoulders began to shake. Compassion clenched his chest so hard it hurt, and he strode to her. "Carissa—"

"I couldn't do it." She sniffed.

But she could have, and it would've changed the future. Instead of saying so, he pulled her close and wrapped her in his arms, because that's what love was: swallowing the "I told you so's" and giving what wasn't deserved.

Carissa stiffened for a moment but soon the tension eased from her body. "I'm sure Tervalyn won't do anything too terrible, since I spared her."

He ran his fingers up the curve of her spine, then back down.

"Elon?" She leaned back and glanced up at him, tears shining on her lashes like dewdrops. "Will she?"

He kept silent, lest he be tempted to give her the lie she wanted to hear.

She gripped his shoulders, tremors shaking her body once more. "What have I done?" The question was half curiosity, half dread.

He cupped her waist on either side. "What's done has been done, Carissa. There are consequences to our actions... but there's always good that can come of it. Now let's get you abed. We leave on the morrow, and you need your rest." He grasped her hand and tugged her out of Tervalyn's room, down the hallway. Their feet tip-tapped against the marble in silence. The hour grew late, and they saw no servants as they walked to his room.

For tonight, they'd have to relinquish Carissa's room to Lila, the poor girl. She'd been lost for so long, trapped by a cage of anger and fear only she could release herself from. It would take a few years, but she'd get there.

Carissa stopped once they'd entered his room. "Elon?"

He released her hand to attend to the items he'd been packing for their journey, items he'd conveniently laid out should an uncomfortable topic of conversation arise.

"Tell me things will be alright."

The words rose from his lungs but caught in his throat. He couldn't tell her that.

When he glanced back at her, her arms were entwined around her waist and she stared at the floor. "I'm such an idiot."

"Mistakes happen, Carissa, and it's what we do after those mistakes that matter the most."

She nodded, though it was clear she wasn't convinced.

"Why don't you undress and lay down? I can finish packing."

She nodded again and fumbled with the back of her gown. Seconds later, the dress sagged off her frame, and she slid it down her waist. She began unlacing her corset, her eyes distant and dim, her expression tight, and then she crawled into bed dressed in her chemise.

Her skin was pale as the sheets that surrounded her, and in the enormous bed, she seemed unusually small and vulnerable. How could he put her at ease without lying to her? He walked to her bedside and sat on the edge. "Do you like songs, Carissa?"

She blinked up at him. "Songs? Some of them, I suppose."

"Would you mind if I share a song with you?"

Interest brightened her eyes. "What kind of song?"

"A song my mother sang to me when I was a little boy, whenever I was too troubled to sleep."

Carissa pulled the blanket to her chin and turned onto her side to face him. "Could you sing it to me?"

"It'd be my honor." He breathed deeply, filling his chest with air and his head with song.

                        "You are my starlight,

                        My shining starlight.

                        You light my way, love,

                        With your bright.

                        I wish you knew how

                        Much I loved you.

                        Now I must bid you goodnight."

He slid each note a little longer, a little slower than he had to. As an after thought, he tugged on the burning, roiling energy inside of him, the gifting. By the end, Carissa's eyes had slid shut. He still let the note linger in the air, regretting the moment their song ended, the moment he'd say goodnight.

His lungs ran out of breath, and the last note withered into silence.

He stood, the mattress rising once relieved of his weight. It seemed the gifting not only gave one foresight and the ability to absorb power, but also the ability to put one's wife to sleep.

Elon tried to smile, but the corners of his mouth felt heavy. His heart sat in his chest like a ball of lead. Their future grew more troubling with each passing day, and it was difficult at times to not let the weight of that knowledge bear down on him.

He smoothed a lock of her hair away from her face.  And at the center of that future was always this lovely woman, with her starlit eyes and her river of black hair, her sweet giggle and intoxicating smile, her love and trust in him growing as the trials they faced grew more difficult.

That, finally, gave him enough strength to smile. Their journey would be difficult, but it would be a story of how he loved her perfectly and how she loved him brokenly. And what a beautiful story it would be.

He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Goodnight, Carissa."

***

Author's Note: Check out my profile for a sneak peek!