Chapter 33 #2
Wren slung an arm over her shoulder, still laughing quietly. ‘Sounds like the gods were looking down on you to me.’
The tension gripping Thea’s body slowly ebbed away and relief found her. ‘I said something to that effect.’
‘Oh?’ Wren grinned slyly. ‘And was that before or after you nearly tore his clothes off on this very porch?’
Thea stiffened. ‘You saw?’
‘Didn’t have to.’ Wren winked. ‘A sister always knows. Besides, you forget I was the one to discover you and Evander rolling around in the hay that time. I recognised that guilty look on your face.’
‘I didn’t have —’
‘Here I was thinking you shieldbearers would have to be better at masking your emotions.’
Thea rested her heavy head in her hands. ‘You’d think…’ she murmured, her heart sinking.
Wren’s tone was much gentler when she spoke again. ‘You know it can’t continue, don’t you, Thee?’
Thee… Wren rarely ever called her that.
And although she knew the truth to her sister’s words, it didn’t make them hurt any less.
‘I know.’
‘It’s for the best.’ Wren moved closer, so her body blocked out the cold on Thea’s right side.
‘Some people’s paths aren’t meant to be entwined for long.
They can meet for the briefest of moments, dovetailing together and then parting ways once again.
But that doesn’t make it without meaning,’ she said, her voice soft.
Thea sniffed. ‘How does my little sister know of such things?’
‘I’m not so little anymore.’
Thea smiled sadly. ‘I’m well aware…’
Wren reached out and fixed her braid. ‘Nothing would jeopardise your position here more than him, you know that…’ she murmured. ‘Screwing anyone of a higher rank could sully the reputation you’ve fought so hard for. ’
‘I know.’
‘He’s a Warsword .’
For the first time in a long while, Thea leaned into her sister’s embrace and rested her head on her shoulder, hating that she felt so small, so weak. ‘ I know .’
Wren kissed her brow. ‘You’re nearly there, Thea. The day after tomorrow, you’ll be a warrior of Thezmarr and all of this… All of this will seem like nothing in the face of that.’
Thea didn’t reply. She only hoped her sister was right.
Wren shifted, hugging Thea closer to her and squeezing her shoulder. ‘So he thought you had magic, huh?’
‘Yes.’ Thea could still feel the echo of power at her fingertips, but swallowing the lump in her throat, she pressed the issue no further.
Wren huffed another disbelieving laugh. ‘Can you imagine? After all these years working at Thezmarr finding out you were some long lost magical heir?’
The words clanged through Thea, jarring for a moment. Amidst everything, she’d forgotten that only the royal families of the midrealms had magic.
‘Imagine.’
And there the two sisters stayed for a time, before the icy winter air chased them inside once more.
Later, when Farissa and Wren had returned to the fortress, voices dragged Thea from sleep. Drowsy, she found she was back in one of the armchairs by the fire, the living room of the cabin otherwise empty.
‘ — was never this bad before,’ Cal was saying.
The bedroom door was ajar, and Thea couldn’t help but pause at the threshold.
‘Something about Thea enrages him…’
‘Cal, if it wasn’t Thea, it would be someone else,’ Kipp countered.
‘Would it? There are no other women shieldbearers…’
‘So it’s a problem with women, not Thea.
Thea just happens to be a woman. She can’t help that, nor can she help how much it seems to threaten that piece of shit.
Seb is just an all-round bastard. It’s just who he is.
Entitled, violent, and obnoxious. All the ingredients for the worst Thezmarrian warrior. ’
Cal made a frustrated noise. ‘You heard what Farissa said. The initiation test is the day after next —’
So they knew.
‘ — and look at us . How are we supposed to…’ he trailed off. ‘After everything we’ve been through… We’re here because Seb has it in for Thea, not us.’
His words cut deeper than any blade. Every dark thought she had had about herself, they thought, too. She was their curse. And they had finally realised it.
‘She nearly died rescuing you,’ came a deep voice from within the room. ‘If you’re looking for someone to blame, blame the bastard who bound you and left you there to drown. Don’t you dare lay the blame at a friend’s feet.’
Hawthorne.
‘Where —’ Cal spluttered. ‘Where did you come from? Er, Sir.’
‘This is my house,’ Hawthorne snapped.
‘Right, sorry, Sir.’
Thea heard Hawthorne’s measured intake of breath. ‘Had she not been there with me, saving your sorry arses, you would have died. Plain and simple.’
‘He didn’t mean —’ Kipp started.
‘I have been a tolerant man, more so than usual lately…’ Hawthorne said slowly, as though he were struggling to rein in his temper, his control. ‘But I will not tolerate disloyalty.’
Thea’s heart fractured.
‘We’re not disloyal, she’s one of us, she’s our friend.’ Kipp argued.
The Warsword’s final words had a dangerous edge to them. ‘Then fucking act like it.’
There was the slam of a door and the heavy silence that followed told Thea Hawthorne had left the room by another exit.
‘He’s right…’ Kipp said eventually.
There was a long sigh. ‘I know, believe me, Kipp, I know it. But I… I can’t help what I feel, I can’t help this… anger.’
Eyes burning, Thea took a step back, her knees buckling beneath her, the cabin suddenly too small for them all.
Her chest was tight, pressure building within, threatening to break through. The walls seemed closer than before, the air thinner. She scrambled for the door.
And when the icy winter gale hit her face, she didn’t stop.
She ran from the cabin and kept running.