Chapter 6
Tatianna
In the kingdom of Rennedawn, there were many ways to spread information. Some used ravens, some used the king’s official postal service, and some simply stated directly what they wanted you to know. Tatianna was of the belief that how one communicated represented who they were.
It was why a healer such as herself, with all her grace, decorum, and wisdom, was sprinting after Clare like her gossamer pink gown was ablaze.
For what felt like the twentieth time that day.
“You cannot avoid me forever!”
“Tatianna, I cannot do this right now,” Clare bit out, her dark locks pinned behind her ears, flowing about her neck, her eyes glittering when she turned to shoo Tatianna away. “I have more pressing matters than helping you save that man.”
“That man is a dear friend,” Tatianna pressed. “Marvin was foolish, but haven’t we all made foolish choices in our lives? Are we truly to punish him for falling in with the wrong crowd? That’s how we were all hired!”
Clare skidded to a stop, spinning just in time for Tatianna to barrel into her.
They both stumbled until Clare’s back hit the open sill of one of the windows.
“I was not hired,” she gritted, rubbing her shoulder.
“Trystan is my brother. He is my family. Small and broken as it is.” Her cheeks reddened with anger, her chest heaving.
Tatianna softened, her heart aching for Clare’s loss, for her own. “I know you’re mourning your father. Believe me. I would not ask this of you if I didn’t think it important. Won’t you just look at Marv? You know magical plants better than anyone; you might know what will cure him.”
Tatianna knew Clare’s resolve always began to waver when her eye twitched. There! There it was. “I suppose I could—”
A scream jolted them both as one of the pixies fluttered down the hall, screeching in indignation.
“Luella!” Tatianna called in alarm. “Whatever is wrong?”
Luella halted before them, her dazzling wings—no bigger than Tati’s pointer finger—moving at a furious pace. “There’s a madman running nude through the laundry room!”
Clare gasped, and Tatianna was so jarred by the statement that she clapped a hand over her mouth before questioning, “What? Who?”
But Clare had already bolted toward the small set of wooden steps that led down to the steam room.
What in the deadlands?
“Clare!” Tatianna called after her former betrothed, utterly befuddled as to why a nude man should send her into such a fuss. The heat brushed Tatianna’s skin when she took the final step down the stairs, where she was greeted by the utter chaos of pixies and interns alike running about, frantic.
Summoning her healing magic had never been a difficulty, the warmth of it a gentle comfort, the deepest sort of nostalgia, like greeting a friend she had known all her life. So, such was this part of her. Her magic. Her friend.
It glowed from her fingertips, lighting her way as it always did.
Scanning past the bustle of people scattering about, she saw Clare’s sable hair across the steam room, her furiously moving hands aimed at the tall figure draped in multiple cloaks.
“What in the deadlands is going on?” Tatianna demanded, footsteps fast and sure, strutting toward the pair in the nearly deserted space. “Who is this!”
Clare stepped around, blocking the hunched figure from her view. The person’s head was aimed toward the ground, the cloak entirely covering their face. “I’ll help you with Marv.”
Clare had always had a taste for the dramatic ever since they were children, and Tatianna had always had a taste for entertaining it, but this was a bit more than even she could stand.
“You’ll help me with Marv, huh? Meaning you truly expect me to ignore the giant coatrack of a person standing behind you? ”
Clare didn’t answer her, earnest pleading in her face.
“From the poison you’ve described, it’s likely magically bound.
The only cure is—” She paused to glance behind her, ensuring the figure did indeed still stand there.
“A, uh, a flower that shoots heat. They’re found south this time of year, inland.
We can discuss more tomorrow. Is that agreeable? ”
“No! It’s not agreeable!” Tatianna screeched, wondering if she’d tied her bow too tightly about her head. “What are you hiding?”
“Shhh!” Clare gripped Tatianna’s hand in hers, then dragged her and the cloaked figure to the storage closet in the back corner, shoving the being through first before closing them in with only a small window for light. “If I tell you…if I show you…you must promise not to alert Trystan.”
Tatianna’s blood went cold, and an icy feeling climbed in her veins, finding its way to her heart. Because Clare had set such terms before. Years ago.
If you continue to associate with a wanted criminal, I will not get past it. You will be choosing him over me. You’ll destroy us.
Tatianna had walked away from Clare that day—from their betrothal—shattering both their hearts in one fell swoop. But there was nothing to be done, for Tatianna could not neglect Trystan without neglecting a part of who she was.
Her heart would not abandon family.
The day she’d begun working for Trystan was the same day she returned her ring to Clare.
Neither of them dared cry in front of the other.
But when the tears did finally stream down Tatianna’s cheeks, as she walked away from the only woman she’d ever love…
she knew Clare, too, was turned away and weeping.
“Surely fate is not so cruel it would force me to make this choice twice,” Tatianna whispered to herself, feeling Clare’s eyes on her. “Surely you would not be so cruel.”
Clare grabbed her hands, her face softening into tenderness, hand shaking when she lifted it to brush a braid gently behind Tatianna’s ear. “My love, I would never—this wouldn’t be forever. I just wanted to…sort it before we presented him to the others.”
Confusion replaced her rising panic, her heart slowly returning to a normal pace. “Him?”
The figure turned, lowering his hood.
Tatianna gasped, the shock of his face sending her reeling into the door, pointing at him like he was a specter, whispering in disbelief and awe.
Clare gave her the tiniest of grins.
“Him.”