Chapter 42
Sage
“H ow many are slaves and how many are castrated?” the innkeeper asked as she folded bed linens that smelled like they’d been dragged through a field of lavender. Each time she dropped the folded linen on top of the pile, a waft of the floral scent filled the air.
Poor Kaleb, who was allergic to lavender, hadn’t stopped sniffling and sneezing since we set foot inside the inn.
Artemesia, who was leaning against the counter, briefly glanced over her shoulder at the guys to do a quick head count. Looking back at the innkeeper, she said, “Five. Also, I have a female mount that will need a sizable stable. And no, they are all intact.”
“Alright, will they be sleeping in the stables, as well?” the innkeeper asked, reaching for the last linen.
“No, they’ll stay with us,” Artemesia answered .
“Are you sure? I can have one of my eunuchs chaperone them,” she said. “It wouldn’t cost much more.”
“Thank you for the offer, but they’ll stay with us.”
“Very well. That will be four cords then.”
“Your prices have gone up,” Artemesia noted.
“Blame the empress for raising the slave tax again,” the innkeeper sighed as she smoothed her hands over the linen, giving them a final pat, another waft of lavender bursting into the air.
“Achoo!” Kaleb sneezed.
The innkeeper side-eyed him. “It’s getting more and more expensive to keep them. I have one who is intact, but I fear I might have to have him castrated soon. Such a shame.” She shrugged, shoved the linens to the side, and then held out her hand.
From her coin purse, Artemesia retrieved four strings of coin, ten on each, and handed them to the innkeeper. They plunked in her palm.
Jostling them a few times, the innkeeper tested their weight. “That oughtta do it. Your rooms are on the second floor. I’ll have some food brought up.”
“Thank you,” Artemesia said, tapping the counter twice before we all headed upstairs.
Later on, I rested my hands against the windowsill, feeling the fresh breeze dance over my skin.
Across the street, a woman swept the sidewalk in front of a shop with windows full of plants.
Above her, the wood sign swung gently from side to side, the well-oiled chains that held it in place making nary a whistle.
Etched into the wood, in a language I did not know the name of but surprisingly could read, it said, Root Tonics .
The woman, the shop, the name—it all reminded me of Ezra.
I couldn’t help but miss her.
Soon enough, we would find each other again.
As per the rule of the lands, intact males were not allowed to be left unchaperoned.
The chaperone had to be either a female or a eunuch.
Because of this rule, it meant one female had to stay with one male.
Earlier on, deciding who was going to stay in what room was a process, about as organized as a monkey shit-fight.
Which, when it came to Folkoln, who put up the biggest stink about staying with Artemesia, wasn’t a stretch from the truth.
Surprisingly and begrudgingly, she’d agreed to stay with him, but not before she threatened to chop his cock and balls off if he tried anything on her.
Go, sis. Talk about ambitious.
Then, there was the whole situation between Kaleb and Fallon. He had refused to stay with her, which I found even more odd, something I made a mental note to ask him about later. So, he ended up with Harper, while Fallon roomed with Soren. Lyra and Ryker stayed together. Which left me with—
Tattooed, muscular arms wrapped around my torso, pulling me against his strong, unyielding frame .
Von.
I brushed my fingers over his prominent, thick veins, feeling the potent power thrumming through them as they filled with blood for me.
The warmth of his skin was like fire against my cool fingertips.
My wandering hand stopped, finding a new path to trace—the vine tattoo inked into his arm.
It was just as I remembered it, the thorns sharp and menacing, twisting this way and that.
The masculine twin to the one he had given me when I made the deal with him, promising him everything.
My gaze shifted to my forearm, to where the ink used to be.
So much had happened between us. I had betrayed him. Betrayed us .
“Von, I—”
“Shh,” he purred the word, the sound deep and low. Throaty.
It made my knees weak.
He made my knees weak.
For him and him alone, I would kneel, just to get a taste of him.
“I know we have much to discuss, but I want you to memorize how this feels,” he continued, his deep cadence like a wicked, dark spell cast over me, tethering my every thought to him.
His fingers drifted along my jawline, gently angling my face up to his.
“Because after we’re done talking, and after we’re done fucking”—he gave a roguish smirk—“I want you to fall back into my arms, just like this, right where you belong. Where you will always belong.”
Warmth spread throughout my heart. I understood the message behind his words. No matter what, his love for me was unwavering.
While I had been fickle and confused, Von had remained strong and steady.
The one person I could always rely on.
We stayed like that for a long, long while, just watching the people on the streets below.
And for a time, life was so beautifully simple.
Until it wasn’t.
“Von.” I took a breath, knowing I was going to need it. “I have to tell you something.”
“Alright,” he said as I turned to face him.
My hands rested against his broad chest, feeling the stone-like muscle beneath the soft cloth of his tunic—steel and cotton.
Dark, smoldering eyes met mine, rimmed with natural strokes of kohl, making him look otherworldly.
A light stubble etched out his strong jawline, emphasizing his high cheekbones.
His black hair was untethered, my small, white feather tied to the end of a slender braid.
“I don’t know if you need to sit down or . . .” I trailed off.
“You know I’m not much of a sitter. Stop stalling and tell me.” His gaze was unwavering, his words a soft command.
“Alright.” My fingers slid down his chest, drifting along his arms. I gathered his hands in mine.
It was amazing how hands as rough as his could still feel like velvet against my skin.
It defied logic. Everything about this male defied logic.
Slowly, I started, “On the day of our wedding, there was something I was going to tell you . . .” Sadness crept into my voice.
I had no idea how I was going to tell him this.
“I know,” he said, the words so quiet I barely heard them.
My lips parted in surprise. “You do?”
“Yes, and I will never forgive myself for not being there for you that day.” His gaze lowered to my stomach then returned to mine. “For you both.”
I took his face in my hands and said with every fiber of my being, “What happened was not your fault.”
“No, but . . .” His thick brows drew together. “I could have prevented it had I been more careful. I should have placed more wards, had more guards. I should have been there to protect you two. And things would have been very different.”
My hands slid back to his chest. “We can’t change the past, but we can look to the future. All immortal souls return to this realm upon their death. What if our child’s soul is here? What if this is our second chance?”
He gave me a soft, sad smile, his voice gentle as he said, “Sage, my love, that’s impossible. The fetus would not have had a soul yet. Immortal or not, the vessel would not have been strong enough to house the divine. You know that.”
“That’s what I thought too, but I’m telling you, somehow, ours did.
I had intended to keep my pregnancy a secret until after the wedding, but then you showed up unexpectedly, and the Neptuah seeds were sitting out.
You would have seen them, but our babe must have heard my wishes because they hid them.
” I pressed my hand over my stomach. “I felt them, Von.”
Black lashes lowered as his gaze drifted to where my hand rested. He was silent for a moment, the beautiful, dark god processing my words. His expression was unreadable, that mask he wore held so carefully in place. Always so controlled, my mate.
Until he wasn’t.
He took a breath, and I think it was the first shaky one I had ever heard come from him.
“Then there is a chance they could be here.” He spoke the words slowly, as if he needed time to adjust to their meaning.
“Yes,” I said, hope lifting my tone.
“But if they were male gendered, you know what that might mean.” His voice was soft, so heartbreakingly soft.
I swallowed that solemn, bitter truth. I felt it go down like a ball of ash, lodging in my throat. “I do,” I choked out.
The Mother Realm was not kind to male souls. Considering most of them were sent to the arena to have their souls crushed, there was a high chance that would have been our child’s end as well.
The thought was heartbreaking. Devastating.
Still . . . I finished out loud, “If they met their end here, I want to know.”
Von breathed in, a muscle feathering in his jaw. Finally, he said, “Alright. We will find out what happened to our child.”
I nodded in reply then asked with a downturned smile, “ Is it bad that I wish for them to be a girl now?”
“No, not in this context,” he answered, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me into his warm, steely frame. “To be honest, it is something I wish too.”
My fingers bunched in the fabric of his black tunic. “What do you think she would be like?” I asked, lowering my cheek to his chest.
Rhythmically, he stroked my hair. “If she’s anything like you, then definitely stubborn.”
I jerked my head up, squinting at him.
He gave a playful grin. “I’m not finished.”
Still, I squinted.
He chuckled then continued, “She’d probably have that same irritating hero mentality as you, always wanting to save everyone.”
“Von,” I hissed.