Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
SENAN
Whoever invented picnics must’ve been some kind of sadist. Why would anyone rather sit on the hard ground with flies buzzing around his head and the sun beating down on his brow instead of inside on a chair with a nice, steady breeze blowing through the windows?
Leeri strokes my forearm with her free hand, seeming unbothered by the flies and bees. “You seem distracted today, my love.”
Every time she calls me that, I want to scream. “I just have a lot on my mind.” Like trying to survive this raging hangover thumping in my skull. What I wouldn’t give to be back in bed. Although, after spending what remained of the night being terrorized by nightmares of fire stealing my world, robbing the woman I loved of her final breaths, I’m not certain bed is the best place for me either.
The princess smiles as if she doesn’t notice me splintering apart at her side. Or maybe she does notice and doesn’t care. Leaning back on her hands, Leeri lifts her face to the sweltering sun. “As do I. My father wishes for me to wear a white feathered gown to the wedding, but I would rather marry you in silver. Which would you prefer?”
I would prefer to not be marrying her at all. “The color of your gown doesn’t matter.”
She tugs my collar, her ruby lips pursing into a pout. “It matters to me. I want to look well for you.”
“You will be beautiful no matter what.” I may hold no fondness for her, but any man with eyes can see that she is stunning.
Leeri’s cheeks pinken as she traces the buttons of my shirt where they peek from beneath my jerkin. “What are you wearing to the wedding?”
I don’t know what I’ll be wearing to dinner tonight, let alone to an event seventeen days from now. I collect my wine glass from the wool blanket and mutter, “Whatever Boris tells me to wear,” before taking a sip. I am his minion, after all.
Leeri lets me go to swipe a hand across her glistening brow. “Is it always this warm here?”
“Most of the time.” Above the clouds, anyway. The same cannot be said for where the Tuath live. There, it rains more often than not. And if it isn’t raining, it’s still damp. “Is it not the same in Nimbiss?” I’ve visited a handful of times over the years, and the temperature always seemed mild enough.
With a shake of her head, Leeri untucks the hem of her shirt from her breeches.
“What are you doing?” And why is she unfastening the buttons of her shirt?
Wine. I need more wine. I take a large gulp, but it doesn’t calm my racing heart.
Her lips lift in time with her shirt. Up and over her head it goes, leaving her in a black bra and leathers. “I am going for a swim.”
“Where?” I choke. We’re in the middle of the bloody gardens. If someone comes outside, they’ll see her in her?—
Oh, gods. There go her pants.
Leeri stands, her black lace undergarments leaving very little to the imagination. How the hell did she go from discussing clothes to taking them off?
“In the pond, silly.” She saunters toward the blue-green water, her glossy hair swaying down her back with each step. “Care to join me?” she throws over her shoulder.
No, I don’t want to strip down and jump into a fucking pond covered in lily pads and with heaven-knows what sort of monsters lurking beneath the surface. “There are fish in there.”
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a few fish.”
Afraid? Hardly. I don’t have to be afraid of something to hate it. I grab the wine bottle from the picnic basket and take a swig right as Leeri dives into the water. Maybe I’ll get lucky and one of the vile beasts I absolutely am not afraid of will eat her.
I nearly faint with relief when Kyffin trudges around the hedge. With Rhainn in Allto visiting his betrothed, our baby brother has been at a loose end all day.
Kyffin’s head snaps up when he hears Leeri splashing. His nose wrinkles as he watches her backstroke toward the weeping willows on the far bank. “Does she know there are fish in there?”
“She doesn’t seem to care.” Maybe she has never seen a fish and doesn’t realize how disgusting they are. With their slimy bodies and bulging eyes and gaping mouths. Shuddering, I take another swig of wine. With each drink, my hangover subsides that bit more.
Kyffin’s shoulders seem to curl as he watches the mad princess. I nudge his knee with my elbow. “What has you down, little brother?”
His silver eyes fill with tears that he quickly swipes away. “I’d rather not say.”
Strange. He usually confides in me. I study him for the longest time, trying to figure out what could be bothering him. That is when I notice the empty scabbard on his belt. The only time I’ve ever seen it empty is when he has his sword in his hand. The boy sleeps with the thing. “Where is your sword?”
His brow tightens. “Boris took it.”
What a heartless prick. Boris knows that sword is Kyff’s favorite thing in the world. I take another sip of wine to try and calm myself. Doesn’t work. “Why did he do that?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“He says I can’t have it back until I master my element.”
“You’re only nine.” I know for a fact that Boris couldn’t even light a candle until he turned fourteen. Where did he get off, putting that kind of pressure on a child who just got his wings?
Kyff lets out a heavy sigh and starts digging the toe of his boot into a clump of grass. “I told him that, and he said I wasn’t trying hard enough.”
Complete and utter nonsense. If the king were here, I’d tell him that to his face. Since he stayed in the castle with the rest of the intelligent people, it would have to wait until later.
I give Kyff another nudge. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you.”
He looks at me with such hope, I feel guilty for not taking the time sooner. It’s not as if I have anything better to do.
He darts a glance at Leeri, where she’s spinning in the middle of the pond like she hasn’t a care in the world. “Are you sure you won’t be busy with your princess?”
“She has had me all afternoon. Tonight, I’m all yours.”
Kyff catches my hand and gives it three squeezes like our mother used to. I love you . I squeeze him back four. I love you too .
Kyffin shifts his weight from one foot to the other, scowling down at the palm of his hand.
“You’re trying too hard,” I say from where I sit on the end of my bed. “It should come naturally. This isn’t a fight. It’s more like…a dance.”
Kyffin shoots me an irritated look. “I despise dancing.”
“That is unfortunate. Dancing would really help your footwork in swordplay.” I stand and offer him a dramatic bow before extending my hand.
“I’m not dancing with you,” he spits, stepping back and nearly colliding with the settee.
“You sure? I’ll let you lead.”
That brings a reluctant smile to his face. “Stop messing about. You’re supposed to be helping me.”
I wiggle my fingers. “Give me your hand, and I will.”
Groaning, he takes my hand in his.
Now that we’re connected, I draw from the well of magic deep inside me, summoning my element to my hand.
Kyff’s wide eyes dart around the empty bedroom. “You’re not supposed to share,” he hisses, trying to pull away.
“It’s my magic. I can do whatever I want with it.” That isn’t true, but Kyff won’t tell anyone. And as I always say: What Boris doesn’t know won’t hurt me. “Hold out your other hand.”
Heat collects in my chest, growing, spreading through my veins. I will my magic toward my brother and feel it leave me. His eyes grow wide when he finds a flame no bigger than a lit match flickering in his free hand.
“How does that feel?” I ask.
His lips curve into a grin as firelight dances in his wide eyes. “Amazing.”
“I meant in your hand. Your body. Can you feel it connected here?” I tap his chest, right above his heart.
“I think so.”
“Brilliant. I’m going to let go now.” His teeth dig into his lower lip. “Don’t worry. Just try to keep that same amazing feeling alive using your magic.”
His brow furrows as he stares at that flame, the tip of his tongue peeking from between his teeth. Slowly, I slip my hand out of his. The flame flickers, then winks out.
Kyff blinks rapidly, as if trying to hide the tears glistening in his eyes.
My heart breaks at the defeat on his little face. I never would’ve learned to control my element if Aeron hadn’t helped me. And I know for a fact that he helped Rhainn as well. What the hell had Boris been thinking, expecting the boy to do this all by himself?
I clap Kyff on the shoulder. “You did so well.”
He blinks up at me through watery eyes. “I…I did?”
“That was two whole seconds. Weren’t you counting?”
He shakes his head, sniffling a little and dragging his sleeve under his nose.
“Let’s try it again. This time, we’re going for five, yeah?”
Kyff gives me a hopeful smile. “I think I can go for five.”
“I know you can.”
Seven seconds. Kyffin can hold a flame for seven whole seconds.
His bark of laughter echoes around the room when I tackle him to the mattress and tickle him until he begs me to stop. Kyff still can’t conjure a flame on his own, but I have faith that he’ll have it mastered in no time at all.
We fall onto our backs, both of us gasping for air. When my throat starts to tickle, I cough into my fist to clear it. Gods, I hope I’m not coming down with a fucking cold. Then again, if I’m sick, I can stay in bed all day and avoid Leeri.
My heavy eyelids drift closed, and my mind begins to empty, leaving room for memories of her to flood in.
I remember her sleeping, the thickness of her lashes resting on her cheeks, the soft air of her deep, even breaths against my neck. The weight of her tucked against my body as if we were one. The feeling of her luxurious waves the color of the sky.
I loved her. Gods, I loved her.
Love a ghost, become a ghost yourself.
If only there were some sort of potion that would make me forget the way it felt to love and be loved.
“Senan?” Kyff whispers. “Can I stay with you tonight?”
“At your own risk. I snore louder than Boris.”
He shifts and lifts the quilt so he can slip beneath the covers. “I don’t mind. At least I’ll know I’m not alone.”
He was only three when our mother passed, and five when he lost Father. Since then, Boris has been too busy ruling the kingdom, and Aeron has been busy training with the army. I’ve been too busy?—
My throat tightens.
I’ve been too busy losing myself.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Kyff whispers. “But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”
“As your older brother, it’s my sworn duty to make fun of you. However, I will concede this time and promise to make fun of you only twice.”
His teeth scrape his lower lip as he peers at me through wide eyes. “I’m scared of the dark.”
I remember being scared of the dark. Some nights, I would sleep beside my balcony doors so I could see the stars. Of course, that was before I knew how vindictive those celestial beings could be.
“How can you be scared with so many nightlights just there.” I point to the quilt of winking stars hanging outside my room.
Kyff snuggles closer. “You’re like a nightlight sometimes.”
Well, if that isn’t a punch to the bollocks, I didn’t know what is. “Sometimes,” I say with a sigh, my stomach sinking as I roll onto my side to face him.
“Boris says you’re an addict.”
I’d love to know why the king thinks it’s appropriate to chat about my habit with a child. “Boris is a knob.”
Sniggering, Kyff flops an arm across my stomach, hugging me tight. “I don’t want you to leave.”
I don’t want to leave either. But I gave Boris my word and won’t go back now. Not that he’d let me even if I wanted to. “Here is a thought. After I get settled, maybe you can come and visit. We can duel to the death in Nimbiss. I bet they have a lot of rugs for us to smother in jam.”
“Do you think Boris will let me?” He sounds so hopeful.
“Maybe.” It all depends on what kind of mood our king is in when I ask. Maybe I can suggest it to Leeri and have her put in the request instead since Boris would be more likely to say yes to her.
Kyff yawns. “I bet you’re excited. When you’re king, no one will be able to tell you what to do.”
His innocence makes me smile. If anything, a king has even more people making demands. Advisors, subjects, councils, generals, his wife. “Ah, but I won’t be king. I’ll be the prince consort.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means the queen will have all the power. I’ll just be there to look good on her arm, like a pretty handbag.”
Kyff snorts, but then his seriousness returns. “Can you take me with you? Boris is terribly cross all the time.”
“Maybe when I’m gone, he’ll be in better form.”
“You do cause a lot of trouble.”
“Do not.” I poke him in the ribs, sending him squealing to the other side of the bed.
“Do too,” he laughs, reaching for my hand. “Love you, Senan,” he murmurs, already half lost to dreams as he squeezes my hand three times.
I squeeze him four, mumbling, “Love you too, Kyff,” before following him into darkness.