Chapter 38
T he fatigue I had spoken of was not an exaggeration, and I ended up passing out in bed in the guest flat. Soren had walked me up to the door, making sure I got through the dark gardens safely. I handed him his overcoat, muttered good night, and fell on top of the bed, fully clothed.
I could've used help undoing my gown. I delighted in imagining Soren's warm, rough hands running over my icy skin as he undid the hooks, but I was too afraid to ask. If he had said no, his rejection would devastate me, and if he said yes… As much as I yearned to get lost in his arms and forget about everything else, I was afraid that if that happened, he would be devastated.
Soren had been so resolute about the boundaries of our relationship, and I didn’t want to push him into something he’d regret.
More than that, I never wanted him to regret me .
So I let him leave in the night. I was too tired to fumble with my fasteners, so I fell onto the bed and into a deep slumber.
I awoke in the late morning, chilly under my blankets. The fire was nothing but embers, the wind was howling, and my dress was still so thin.
My body ached, and my mind felt sluggish. I had given my all during the conduction, and that confrontation with Baxley had taken more energy and emotion than I had to spare. But I refused to let myself think of Baxley, even when I noticed the bruises he’d left on my arm.
I hurried to clean up and pulled on a warm, long-sleeved dress. Nobody needed reminders of Baxley today.
My stomach rumbled with hunger as I stared out my window at the main house. I was ravenous and would love a cup of tea with Soren.
But Samonend was behind us, and Soren seemed to be struggling to keep me at arm’s length. To protect himself – or protect me – he’d likely be sending me packing. Our professional relationship may have run its course, and he’d never allow for a romantic one, so where did that leave us?
I couldn’t hide in the guest flat all day, especially not as hungry as I was. Besides that, if Soren did want me out, I wasn’t doing either of us any favors by staying.
I took a deep breath, pulled my wool cloak around me, and I made my way across the gardens in a swirl of autumn leaves.
Usually, when I came in the morning, Soren would be in the kitchen, but since it was much later than normal, I wasn’t surprised to find the kitchen empty.
I closed the door, practically slamming it against the gust of wind outside. It was loud enough to rattle the windows but didn't summon Soren. I took a few tentative steps into the house and called for him, but he didn't respond.
My foot crunched on something, and I noticed a scrap of paper that had blown off the countertop when the wind had blasted in through the door.
“ Had to take care of some errands. I’ll be back later.”– Soren
I set it back on the counter, made myself a cup of tea, and stared out the window. My thoughts were swirling around like so many leaves in the wind.
When someone knocked on the front door of Soren's house, I almost jumped out of my skin. I actually dropped my cup of tea. The liquid was mostly gone, but the cup shattered on the floor.
As I crouched down to clean up the mess, the person at the door kept knocking. I wasn't sure if I should answer it since this wasn't my house, but I knew I didn't want to leave broken glass on the floor.
And then I heard the familiar shrill voice, “Soren Tomoleo, I will not let you keep my daughter from me any longer!”
A shard of the teacup accidentally dug into my palm, and I barely even noticed the blood pooling in my hand.
Adora was here.
I balled up my first to stop the blood and steel my spine. Adora was still shouting and knocking, even as I opened the door.
She stood frozen mid-knock, her eyes wide with surprise when she saw me standing there. When she ran at me, I flinched, expecting a slap, but instead, she hugged me, throwing her long arms around me. Before I could react, she pressed me into her thick fur cloaks, almost smothering me in them.
“Oh, thank the Matronae, you are all right!” Adora sobbed into my ear.
I untangled myself from her. “Of course I am.”
I wasn’t sure how Soren would feel about her being in his house, but I didn’t feel right about throwing her out, either. Especially if she really was concerned.
“You saw me perform last night,” I reminded her.
"I know, but I left before that horrible incident with Soren and Lord Baxley Cole." Adora used his full title with reverence, and I felt the bile rise in my throat. "The Calida Post called it a bloodbath!"
“The newspaper reported it?” I asked, aghast.
“Only a few lines, but yes,” Adora said. “But I learned even more talking at the market this morning. Everyone is so worried about that violent man taking you hostage!”
“I’m not held hostage, and you know it,” I told her sharply. “You’re the one who kicked me out.”
She looked wounded by accusations of the truth. “I assumed you would stay with Briar or Wrenley, somewhere safe. I never imagined that you would shack up with the exact kind of enchanter I had always warned you about.”
“We are not shacked up together!” I bristled. “I am staying in the guest flat out back in the gardens.”
“Then why do you look so comfortably lounging around his house?” Adora shot back. “Or is he having you be his maid?”
“I was making myself a cup of tea. There is no kitchen in the flat,” I explained.
"Hmpff," Adora huffed as if she didn't believe me. "It is no matter really because the damage has been done. After what everyone witnessed at Samonend last night, it's clear that Soren has become far too possessive and controlling of you."
I shook my head. “He’s neither of those things. He was defending me last night.”
“From Lord Baxley?” she asked with a dubious eyebrow. “That boy is a kitten, but he is only a small part of the issues. Many eyewitnesses say that Soren has been incredibly inappropriate with you, Isadore, and magik charges are being brought.”
My heart stopped. “ What ?”
“Where is he, by the way?” Adora suddenly began looking around, her prying eyes taking in every detail of his sparsely decorated home. “Do I need to worry about Soren putting his hands on me?” She asked it in a lilting voice, like it was a humorous joke.
“He’s not home,” I replied, but I was still reeling from what she’d said about magik charges. “What… what eyewitnesses?”
“You mean besides a ballroom full of people?” she asked, all sarcasm and honey. “The Crown Princess, Lord Baxley, Warlock Herve, King Marcel – ”
“King Marcel?” I cut her off in my surprise. “From the Kingdom of Sudamon? I haven’t seen him since this past summer at the Ashoraldia festival.”
“Well, he had eyes even way back then, so he must’ve seen something ,” Adora replied with a smug smile.
“You weren’t concerned about me at all,” I realized, and a sick feeling twisted in my stomach. “You came here to gloat.”
“What reason would I possibly have to gloat, Isadore? You are my daughter, and I only want what’s best for you.”
“You have never known what’s best for me,” I snapped. “I think you should go now.”
Her smile faltered. “I’m not leaving without you. You can’t stay here if magik charges are brought against Soren.”
"Where I stay is no longer your concern," I reminded her coolly.
Adora gaped at me in shock for a moment, then she hurried to correct course. "Isadore, be reasonable. If you care about Soren at all, you truly cannot stay here any longer. It will only make him appear even guiltier before the Tribunal."
"Then I will find somewhere else to stay," I said, hating that she might have a point. "None of that is of your concern. I'm a grown woman, and I am a muse. Go back home, and let me sort it out myself."
She seemed too flabbergasted to respond, so I seized the moment to usher her out before she had her wits about her.
“Isadore,” she argued weakly, but I just opened the front door and motioned for her to go. “It doesn’t need to be this way.”
“Maybe not, but it is this way.”
My mother seemed to want to say more. I could almost see her biting her tongue behind her carnation pink lipstick. But she pulled her plush fur coat more tightly around her and stepped out into the wind.