She plays some of the songs for me. I can’t say I enjoy them exactly, but I can see that they have more complexity than I realized. They can be haunting and even moving.
“It all comes from living in the land of endless darkness. And worse than that, the midnight sun,” Rakel says. “You can’t imagine the insomnia in the summertime. That’s why I like it down here.” She nods her head toward our arched stone roof and our windowless walls. “It’s always night when I want to go to sleep.”
Most of all we connect over our hacking classes. Rakel tells me that the whole reason she came to Kingmakers was for explicit instruction in dark web techniques. She’s wildly frustrated by our restricted access to technology.
“I hate only being able to practice during class time. I want my own laptop and internet access,” she seethes.
I hesitate, not sure if I should tell her that might be possible.
“You know Miles Griffin and Ozzy Duncan?” I say.
“Of course.” She nods.
“They might be able to help you with that.”
As we’re leaving our room, we run into Hedeon Gray.
“What are you doing down here?” I say in surprise.
Hedeon scowls at me. “What the fuck business is it of yours?” he says.
“Just asking.” I shrug.
“Well just fuck off instead,” Hedeon says, pushing past me on his way to the stairs.
“Charming,” Rakel says after he’s gone.
“He’s always like that,” I say, though in truth, that was extra rude even for Hedeon.
Behind us, Saul Turner exits his room, likewise heading for the stairs.
“Hey, girls.” He gives us a nod as he passes, slouching along with his hands tucked in his pockets.
“You think Hedeon was in Saul’s room?” I ask Rakel in an undertone.
She shrugs. “Could be. Don’t know why he was being so pissy about it—no rule against visiting other students.”
As we ascend the stairs and come out of the old wine cellar at ground level, I can just see Saul’s long, lanky frame heading in the direction of the library. Hedeon has disappeared.
“Come on,” Rakel said, pulling her sweater tight around her to try to block the wind. “Let’s run to class—it’s fucking freezing.”
13
Zoe
Miles and I have been seeing each other regularly since that day in the library.
It’s difficult because we can’t be seen alone together. Even when we’re in a group with Leo and Anna, Ares, Hedeon, Chay, Ozzy, and Cat, I have to be careful not to sit by Miles too often, not to stare at him too obviously. And especially not to touch him, no matter how badly I might want to do it.
Sometimes one dark curl will fall down over his eye and the temptation to brush it back off his face is almost irresistible. When his hand is only inches from mine at the dining hall table, I want so badly to feel his warm fingers wrapped around mine. It’s a physical ache, a craving stronger than any I’ve experienced for food or sleep.
Then when we’re finally alone and I can give into it, his touch on my skin is far beyond pleasure—it’s all the way to necessity. I have to have it. The more I get, the more I want.
We haven’t had sex. We both know that would be crossing a serious line. My marriage contract states that I will arrive at my wedding night a virgin, and I don’t think the Princes will be lenient on that point. So we dance around it, kissing and touching each other, with Miles often repeating what he did to me in the library, sometimes three or four times over until my whole body thrums like a music note, until even the air against my skin feels as orgasmic as his tongue between my legs.
It’s not just physical—the more we sneak away together, the more addicted to his company I become.
I don’t know what I imagined dating would be like, having never done it before. I suppose I thought it was sex, or formal conversations over dinner. I never imagined it could be fun and playful, like being with Cat or Chay and Anna, but even better, because the laughter and conversation is strung through with this bright thread of attraction, with a rabid interest in each other that’s intoxicating, that makes time melt away like sugar in water.
Sometimes we meet up with Leo and Anna to play music and dance around together like we’re forming our own tiny nightclub.
Sometimes I show Miles the project I like to work on in my spare time, the thing that I’ve never shown anybody before, not even Cat.
It’s a story. Only it’s written like a play, with dialogue. There’s long descriptive passages, too. It’s about a girl who sees the future, but can’t seem to change the outcome of events, no matter how hard she tries.
I was embarrassed to show him. I only did because he asked me straight out, saying, “What’s that thing you’re always writing?”
“What do you mean?” I said, honestly not thinking about the story. I wouldn’t have thought that Miles had noticed me working on it.
“In that green notebook,” Miles said. “I know it isn’t schoolwork, because you’re never looking at your textbooks and you always hunch over it like it’s secret.”
My face went hot, realizing what he was talking about. There was no denying it when I was blushing so hard.
I showed him the story, saying, “It’s silly, I just work on it to blow off steam. I don’t even know what it is.”
Miles read through twenty pages, focused and unsmiling, until I couldn’t stand the suspense and I snatched it back out of his hands.
“That’s enough,” I said. “Like I told you, it’s silly.”
“It’s not silly,” Miles said, fixing me with his clear gray eyes. “It’s fascinating. You’re talented, Zoe.”
I shook my head, not able to keep looking at him. “It’s nothing. Not even a proper story.”
“It’s not a story,” Miles said. “It’s a script.”
“Like a movie script?” I laughed. “Something has to become a movie before it can be a script.”
“That’s backwards.” Miles smiled at me.
“I mean . . . there has to be some intention for it to be a movie.”
“It should be a movie,” Miles said. “I’d watch it.”
“You’re just flattering me.”
“No I’m not.” He was serious again, taking the notebook back from me, wanting to read more. “I know when something’s good and when it’s not. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
His compliment meant more to me than any I’d received before. I believed Miles when he said he wouldn’t lie. I believed that he was a good judge.
He’s smart. So fucking smart. I hadn’t realized it before. I’d only ever seen bits and pieces of Miles, never when he was engaged in his actual interests. I’d only seen the Miles who was bored by his classes, or slacking off in the Quartum Bellum. When he actually cares about something, he’s got incredible focus.
Now he’s turning that focus on me, and it’s almost frightening. I’ve discovered this completely different person who intimidates me.
He tells me all about his side businesses.