And with all that I have known, I have never known someone quite like you. 

Four day. Four days. He has been unconscious for ninety-six hours. I have not been able to sleep, to eat. I told Tirogh to take over my duties for the time being- just until I know he’s okay. I spend my days watching him sleep. It hurts me more than anything ever has. To watch him lifeless, cuts and bruises covering his body. The fucking sun. I try to remain composed but sometimes I break into tears. I do this when Wichata leaves to get some supplies. When I’m alone with him, I hold his hand. It’s cold. I send heat through his body and cover him with a blanket. When I allow myself the pleasure, I run my hands through his golden hair. My magic stirs inside of me. 

I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t know how much this would affect me. I didn’t realize-

“He’s going to be fine. His body has been through a lot and he needs to rest. Stop worrying. You’re appearing weak to your subjects.” Wichata sounds angry. Disappointed, even.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

“Stop worrying.”

“You don’t know him.” 

I glare at him. “You forget your place, old man.” I snap at him.

“My dear boy, please, I do not mean you disrespect. I just cannot stand seeing you so out of order.”

“Wichata, he’s all I have left.” He has been my only hope for my entire life- the only thing that has kept me sane. But now I’m beginning to feel insane. Wichata frowns and leaves the room.

“I need you to be okay.”

His lashes flutter but his eyes don’t open. I let out a long sigh. He’s so beautiful. It’s the kind of beauty that no one can deny. A kind of beauty that demands to be seen. I frown. It’s dangerous. Far too dangerous. I want to hide him away, keep him safe, protect him.

When I saw him amongst the Kayon, I felt myself crumble. I felt unstable. Before I had gone in front of the court, Tirogh warned me not to show my emotions. It was something I had become very good at, but he knows me better than anyone. He knows that under the right circumstances, I can forget where I am. So I tried my best to seem cold. But it was so goddamn hard. Seeing him knelt on the ground, his body covered in wounds and dirt, his eyes lost and confused. I couldn’t handle it. So I allowed him to stand before me. It was an act of weakness—defiance to the crown. Tirogh lectured me about it for an hour afterward. But it was worth it. Seeing him stand tall even though he’s been through unimaginable suffering. I didn’t deserve to, but I felt proud. When bits of his personality came out, his subtle rebellion when addressing me, I couldn’t help but smile. He was strong. So fucking strong.

I trace the lines of his palm. I twirl my fingers around his, and then I clasp our hands together. I feel a spark of magic flow down my arm. I see it flow into his veins and illuminate his skin. A few of his bruises disappear. Then, a few of his wounds. I take his hand and kiss the top of it.

"I won't let anyone harm you again."

“Using healing magic on a non-strian, especially magic from someone like you, is dangerous and far too risky.” Wichata sounds startled. He must have come back a few minutes ago, but I was too enthralled to notice.

“You don’t understand, Wichata.”

“I don’t think you understand-“ 

I whip around to face him. “No. You don’t. He has magic.”

Wichata’s confusion frustrates me. How can he not see it?

“This boy has more magic than anyone.”

“Yes, he’s special and I know you feel something for him but magic isn’t just a feeling-”

“I’m not an idiot. He’s strian.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Nothing about him is possible.”

“He’s Finlurian.”

I shake my head. “No. He is of nothing.”

Wichata doesn’t understand because he can’t understand. He hasn’t felt what I’ve felt. He cannot feel souls. I can. When Wichata realizes what I am saying, his eyes widen. “That is- how can that be?”

“I don’t know.”

“What does his soul feel like?” The question comes from a place of pure curiosity. Feeling souls is not something everyone can do. In fact, it’s only a thing that I can do.

"It feels like pure magic: chaotic and warm."

And it does. When I first felt it, his eyes were fluttering. He had just collapsed into my arms. This was all too much for him. I held him tight as I called for Wichata. Tirogh ran to get him. I ordered everyone to leave the throne room. And then I just sat there holding him, and all I could feel was his soul. It was so delightfully warm. But there was also something wild about it—something unhinged laid beneath his surface. It scared me, so I just held him tighter until we both were glowing with magic. That's when I knew. That's when I knew he had magic. And…

That's when I knew he was my soulmate.