Byzantine Heartbreak

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Authors: Tracy Cooper-Posey
security.
    “You say you are happy, Ryan?” Salathiel asked. His voice rumbled against Nayara’s back.
    Ryan hesitated. “I suppose...yes,” he said slowly.
    “Well, I am happy. I am one of the happiest men alive in this city,” Salathiel declared. “And I would not change a thing about my life at this very moment. That means, my friend, I must ensure you are happy.”
    Ryan smiled a little, the corners of his mouth lifting. Nayara could almost see his thoughts for herself. He was thinking that Salathiel had over-indulged in the wine already. He wasn’t making sense.
    “Agh...you’re thinking I’ve drunk too much,” Salathiel said. He put his cup down with a sharp bang on the marble table top, leaning over Nayara to do it, his long arm having no trouble reaching the table. “Let me explain, Irishman. If you are not perfectly happy here, then you will grow unhappy about some small thing. It will grow and grow in your mind, until one day, you cannot stand it anymore and you will leave. And I won’t have you leaving. You will spoil my perfectly wonderful life.”
    “I don’t have any plans to leave just yet, Lathe,” Ryan said gently.
    “But you are not happy,” Salathiel retorted. “You are not perfectly happy like I am. You must tell me—us—what you need to make you perfectly happy.”
    Ryan’s humour fled. He sat up. “You can’t give me what I need to be happy, Lathe.” He stood up. “I need to check on the manifest for that new captain. I don’t trust—“
    “Wait!” Salathiel cried, sitting up and just about spilling Nayara onto the tiles in his haste.
    Nayara stood, too. Her heart had started beating hurriedly. Fear rippled through her, although she wasn’t certain why.
    “Ryan!” Salathiel called.
    Ryan halted on the second broad step that led into the house. He kept his back to them both, his head down. He was barefoot, Nayara realized. He wore only a tunic and the belt that pulled it in around his body, sitting down low on his hips. His shoulders and arms gleamed from the little bit of sun he was exposed to on the docks.
    “Tell me what it is you want and I will move heaven and earth, if I can, to give it to you,” Salathiel said.
    Ryan lifted his head and turned to face them both. His eyes were gleaming with the intensity of the emotions churning inside him. His hands curled into fists. “It’s not all yours to give, Salathiel.”
    His gaze flickered toward Nayara.
    Her breath hurt, she pulled it in so sharply. Salathiel’s expression as he looked at her told her all she needed to know. He had seen Ryan’s glance and he knew.
    Ryan closed his eyes and lifted his chin, as if he were praying to God. Then he turn silently and walked back into the house.
    Salathiel picked up his wine and drained it, then picked up the pitcher and refilled his cup without calling for the servant.
    Nayara couldn’t control her heart. It was beating all on its own, slamming against her chest. Hurting. She had no idea what to do. She was afraid to take a step forward. It felt like a canyon had just opened up at her feet, one that she couldn’t cross.
    Salathiel lifted the cup to his lips and drank heavily again. Then he placed the cup gently on the table and rose to his feet and turned to face her. He cupped her face and smiled. His blue eyes were warm. “Do you believe I love you, Nia, love of my life?”
    “Yes,” she said.
    “Do you trust me?”
    She hesitated. “Yes,” she said, her voice low.
    He kissed her cheek. “Rest easy. I will be gone for a while, but I will be back and then we will talk about this.”
    “You will not stay the night?” They had planned a whole night of celebrations, the three of them, for the mid-summer evening... Now, she would spend it alone and terrified.
    “I can’t. There is a ship coming in late. I have to inspect the shipment. I will be at the dock all night. I’m sorry, Nia. Word came late this evening.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his

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