CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ALYSSUM
The sun had yet to reach its highest point in the sky when I silently stepped into the Ugly Tankard.
Casting a sparing glance to ensure the bell was indeed still attached to the door, I wondered why it hadn’t rung.
But my attention could not linger there for long.
The moment the door sealed behind me, I was immediately aware of two things.
Firstly, the tavern was incredibly warm.
I could not have been more grateful for the roaring hearth that bathed me in much-needed heat.
Secondly, something was very, very wrong.
The tavern was empty—not a soul in sight.
If it weren’t for the wailing coming from the kitchen, I might have thought I was entirely alone.
“They don’t need you. Not like I do!”
I froze in place. I had never heard Ekko raise her voice, and the shrill register she had reached was unnerving.
“Ekko, darling, please calm down.” Winnie was shouting, which I imagined was necessary to be heard above Ekko’s cries. “If I’m not there, and Gavner notices…”
“What about me?” Ekko sobbed. I imagined her entire chest heaving with the sound she made. “What’s going to happen to me if you die?”
“I won’t. Berig is the one who—”
“Promise me!”
“My love,”—Winnie’s voice broke—“you know I can’t do that.”
“Then answer my question! What happens to me if you die?”
Winnie didn’t respond immediately. Ekko’s whimpers persisted, each one squeezing my heart in turn.
Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes.
I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to Winnie.
If nothing else, my suspicion was confirmed: the blood pit had to have been aptly named for Ekko’s fear to be so consuming.
When Winnie finally spoke, her voice had taken on a more soothing tone. “You know that if anything were to happen to me, Vayen would look after you.”
“Horseshit,” Ekko screamed, accompanied by the deafening sound of metal on rock.
Was that her cauldron hitting the flagstone?
“I am not your moonbond, remember? They won’t protect me the way they would Catrin!
I’ll have nothing. I’ll have no one. I’ll be all alone.
Again. And he’ll find me, I know he will. He’ll—”
“That won’t happen. He can’t—”
“Mark me. Right here, right now. Do it!”
I had never heard someone plead the way Ekko was.
Her sheer desperation turned my stomach, and I could all but feel the pain emanating from her.
I clutched my mouth, forcing the cry back down my closing throat.
I shouldn’t be listening to this. I needed to sneak past the kitchen and up into my room.
I loosened my knees before pressing forward, just as Anise had taught me.
Slow movements. Light, purposeful. One foot in front of the other, a gentle press of the foot, careful not to graze the barstools.
Nothing more than a shadow skulking through the tavern.
“You know that I would,” Winnie said when I was adjacent to the kitchen. Her words were weak with pain. “I want to. More than anything.”
“Then prove it! Try. You can at least try. That way, if anything were to happen…”
“My love, we risk us both if I try. Please. I need you to understand.”
I reached the other side of the common area and only then did I loose a strangled breath. It seemed that Ekko and Winnie were through talking. Ekko’s resigned, guttural sobs broke my heart as I ascended the spiral staircase, careful to avoid the squeaky step halfway up.
The creaking of floorboards coaxed me from a light slumber.
I glanced quickly at my window; the sun must have been mid departure, given that I could barely make out the forest’s silhouette.
Thankfully, my hearth’s flames still danced merrily, disallowing the evening chill from taking root in my bedchamber.
Still gripped by the memory of my adventure, I wiggled my toes to confirm that sensation had indeed returned to them, and with an easy sigh, nestled myself deeper beneath my warm, pillowy bedding.
I had left my muddied skirts in the wash basket outside my door.
If Winnie came to check, she would know that I had returned before midday, as promised, without having to chat.
I imagined she might not be in the mood, and my suspicions were confirmed when her heavy boots sounded down the hallway, stopping just outside my door.
Curled up on my bed, I watched as what I assumed to be her shadow lingered there.
Was she contemplating knocking? But before I could decide whether or not I should admit to what I’d heard, she continued down the hallway.
As the sound of her footsteps dissipated, I released the breath that had hovered in my lungs.
I worried my lip between my teeth as their most curious words repeated in my mind.
“I am not your moonbond.”
“Mark me.”
I had never heard those phrases before. Not in Lunamor, and not in the books that Catrin had allowed me to borrow.
Catrin, who apparently was someone’s moonbond.
It would have to be Berig, wouldn’t it? Did that mean she had been marked by him in some way?
I hadn’t noticed any marring of her dark brown skin.
Either I hadn’t looked closely enough, or it was hidden beneath her clothes.
Whatever this mark was, Ekko seemed to be convinced that should an unfortunate fate befall Winnie, it might garner her some protection.
Vayen’s protection, specifically. But from what?
The man they called Gavner? Or perhaps the blood pit?
Regardless, Ekko was terrified—both of losing her wife and what might come after.
But I couldn’t imagine Vayen not offering her assistance to whoever might need it, whether they had some silly mark or not.
Then again, I didn’t know Vayen at all. I had only encountered her a handful of times, one of which I was hardly conscious for.
I could only barely picture her features from when she carried me to Catrin’s.
Her appearance solidified in the tavern, where her magnetism was confirmed along with the existence of that left cheek dimple I still did not find attractive.
And then I discovered even more this morning as she held me up against the porch railing.
The strength I had suspected from her corded arms was indeed extensive; she hadn’t appeared to struggle in the least when rescuing me from my clumsiness.
And that jawline was just unfair. I’d suspected as much in the Ugly Tankard, but forced up against her warm body, having to tilt my chin to get a decent look at her?
She had held me so tightly, the warmth of her a balm to my frozen core. That arm, wrapped around my middle, and a security that rivaled even Anise’s capable hands. I pressed my knees together as I chewed on my lower lip, quite intent on ignoring the heat pooling in my lower abdomen.
No, absolutely not.
I hadn’t pleasured myself since arriving in Grenythwood, and I had more important things to worry about than that.
With a frustrated huff, I adjusted my pillows so that I could sit up straighter.
Firelight sliced through the darkness outside, catching my attention.
With narrowed eyes, I peeled back the covers and tiptoed to the window, running my palm over the fabric of the dark green drapes.
I peeked beyond the curtain, observing the crowd below with a gaping mouth.
Dozens of torches dotted the dimming forest floor.
Groups of people, moving in near-unison as they traversed the same path I had that morning.
I had never seen more than three or four villagers on the streets together, until now.
They must have been heading for the blood pit.
Depths… it seemed the entire village was attending.
More souls than I knew to exist in Grenythwood, at least. So why me?
Why should I be sequestered in my room while every other villager made their way to the gathering?
I was deep in the middle of contemplating the injustice of it all when a knock on my door startled me out of the very thought.
“Yes?” I called hesitantly, drawing my arms around my middle.
“It’s Gallia. I have your supper. If you’re decent…”
“One moment!” I hesitated there, for Gallia had never before brought supper to my chambers.
With a curious hum, I retrieved the robe from the hook by the mirror, only now noticing that its dark, emerald hue matched the curtains, before unbolting the iron rod and pulling the door open. “Please, come in.”
Gallia shuffled forward, her short, sandy hair released from her customary linen cap, though she still wore that same brown dress with a pale green apron. “Pardon the intrusion, but given that the tavern is closed this evening, Mistress Ekko asked that I bring supper directly to your chamber.”
No one had told me the tavern would be closed, but that at least explained the empty common area.
“That’s very kind of you both. Please convey my gratitude when you see her.” I clasped my hands before me, chin lifting reflexively in her presence.
“Of course.” Gallia bowed her head with a polite smile. She made her way back to the door, offering a quick, “enjoy your evening,” before pulling it closed behind her.
Brow furrowed, I approached the table to assess the supper that had been brought to me. A large piece of steaming meat pie with a side of dark bread slathered in butter. The scent was mouthwatering, and my stomach growled rather audibly in response.
I wondered if Gallia was tasked with bringing supper to all of the tavern’s patrons, or if I was truly the only soul in Grenythwood staying in for the evening. I didn’t like the sound of that, but I also wouldn’t be turning my nose up at anything Ekko cooked, so I sat down to begin enjoying supper.