A week after Indigo’s death was the first time Amadhay left Atlas’ room.
She still felt wrong. She still felt sad. She still felt angry. But she was dealing with it. She was dealing with it and she needed time on her own, away from Atlas and all of his things to think about everything. Normally, she would curl up in her own room, in her own bed all alone and surrounded by her own things. But because they hadn’t returned to the Sand Castle, she didn’t have a room of her own, didn’t have a bed to curl up in all alone, and didn’t have any of her own things.
Because she had nothing, she went to the next best thing.
She knew, in some part of her mind that she tried not to use, that she was making no sense by leaving Atlas’ bed just to curl up in Ribbon’s bed. She knew that she should be angry with both of them. She knew that. She just couldn’t bring herself to be angry anymore. Not at them. She was angry, she wouldn’t lie about it. But she wasn’t angry with them.
She was angry with Maria, for messing Indigo up so badly that he been easy to manipulate. She was angry with Arne Riff for forcing her to send Indigo away when he had needed her. She was angry with Christein for giving her Indigo to begin with. If he hadn’t, Indigo wouldn’t have latched onto her. If he hadn’t latched onto her, Maria wouldn’t have hurt him to hurt her. If Maria hadn’t hurt him, he would have been mentally sound enough to not be so easily manipulated. If he hadn’t been so easily manipulated, the Palnoki wouldn’t have been able to take him and use him by simply saying her name. If the Palnoki hadn’t been able to use him, he wouldn’t have become a danger. If he hadn’t become a danger, Atlas wouldn’t have made the order. If Atlas hadn’t given the order, Stefan wouldn’t have killed him. If Stefan hadn’t killed him, Indigo would still be alive.
So yes, she was angry. She was angry with Stefan and Kimiko and Tairyn. She was even angry with Sebastian for not keeping Indigo safe. But she wasn’t angry at Ribbon or Atlas. Atlas had only done what he had thought was right. Ribbon had only tried to make the best of the situation. She, above all people, knew that Ribbon would keep a secret to her grave if she promised it. If Ribbon hadn’t mentioned Tairyn, it was because Kimiko had made her promise not to.
And while that tiny part in the back of her mind kept telling her that she wasn’t making sense, that they were the ones she should have been angry with the most, she just couldn’t do it. She needed them too much. They were all she had. It didn’t matter that Ribbon, who always talked about putting her first and claiming to love her more than anyone else, had kept a secret she knew would hurt Amadhay. It didn’t matter than Atlas, who always went out of his way to make her trust him and was always there when she needed him, had hurt her Indy and had him killed. It didn’t matter because she needed them.
That was why she left Atlas’ bed for Ribbon’s. Ribbon was hers. She might not have a bed or a fancy canopy chandelier or any knives or even her own shampoo, but she had Ribbon. Atlas was hers in a much less physical way. Atlas was hers just as she was his. They were in a circle of possession in which neither one would ever truly gain anything.
Ribbon on the other hand, was hers in a truly possessive way, had been from the moment that Amadhay had declared that Ribbon meant more than she did in her mind, from the moment she had kissed the woman. Ribbon was her Godesian heart, the only person more hers than she, herself, was. She was positive of that. In that way, her protective possessiveness meant that Ribbon was hers and all that was Ribbon’s was hers. So when she curled up in Ribbon’s bed, it was like curling up into her own bed. It wasn’t as good, but so long as Ribbon was there, it did what she needed it to.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ribbon had asked when she had opened her eyes to watch Amadhay curling up into bed with her.
Amadhay had shaken her head and simply lain with her ear to Ribbon’s chest, listening to her heartbeat. It calmed her in a way that listening to Atlas’ didn’t. Listening to Atlas’ heartbeat only reminded her that Indigo’s would never beat again. Listening to Ribbon’s heartbeat reminded her that life went on. She may have failed Indigo, but she wouldn’t fail anyone else.
“I’m sorry,” Ribbon said. Amadhay listened to her heartbeat speed up. “I’m sorry that we hurt you. I’m sorry we kept Tairyn a secret. I’m sorry that I kept DuPreve a secret. I’m sorry that I didn’t ignore the orders and just tell you everything. You should have known. I’m so sorry about everything.”
“His name was Indigo,” was all Amadhay said, choosing instead to continue to lie there, listening to Ribbon’s heartbeat.
Most of all, she was angry with herself.