Chapter 17 Auria
Keeping my eyes closed was never a question. Not looking at his face for a year was all I had to do to break his curse. I wouldn’t ruin it during the first week.
He nudged me forward a few steps, and then the rest of his words sank in. Through the shadows. What did that mean?
He had a hand on my arm, so I asked quietly, “Bylur, can you control the shadows?”
“Of course,” he murmured. “They are part of my magic.”
His magic?!
“Did you send them to attack me?” The accusation came out louder than I’d expected. “In the dungeon? In Dedalus’s room?”
He stood in front of me and carefully gripped both my upper arms. “I sent them in the dungeon to find and protect you.” Images ran through my mind.
That horrible prison—the shadows had attacked Amatavi, not me.
Bylur went on. “In Dedalus’s room, I surrounded you with them so you would not see me. I did not attack you. But—”
His voice wavered. “When I realized how much they scared you, I pulled them back and turned my face away instead. I am still… sorry for how angry I was in that moment.”
I hugged my waist and nodded. I would have hugged Rat, but the thankless animal had flown off my shoulder.
“I—” Bylur started to say something and then trailed off. I hated not seeing his face. How was I supposed to know what he meant when I could only hear him? He squeezed my arms gently. “I will leave you now. Give me a second or two before you open your eyes.”
“Wait!” I threw a hand on top of one of his.
“Where are you going? I… I know we didn’t really discuss this, but I’d like to see you more often than once every two or three days.
I’d… like to help you with whatever you have going on with your council.
And learn everything about your kingdom and home and fae in general. ”
He took my hand off his and wrapped it up in both of his. “You can ask Brielle and Dearan anything. They are like siblings to me.”
“Yes,” I whispered, getting distracted by his warm touch on my hands.
His skin was more callused than I’d expected, but still so gentle.
I gripped his hands with my free one. “But Brielle doesn’t understand your council plans or know about your curse.
And Dearan is friendly enough, but I think he’s avoiding me for propriety’s sake. ”
He half huffed, half chuckled. “The fae culture does not expect propriety.”
I tipped my head, trying to imagine what his face might be saying if I could see it. “But you do?”
He pressed his thumb against the top of my hand, and the pressure felt like a confirmation.
“I do not care what people think as much as I care what they do. I think people should be treated with dignity and respect. That includes honoring boundaries and vows with fidelity. Most fae insist on oaths being sealed with magic to ensure they are not broken. Marriage vows are usually made with magic, and married fae are more devoted to each other than to any others. Single, unattached fae have nothing forcing them to behave with honor.”
I ran my thumb absently along his hand, processing those ideas. “But some must anyway. I’d expect people who cannot lie to be relatively honorable.”
He snorted. “Fae cannot speak a lie. They can act with deceit and their own self-serving intentions.”
“So—” I probably shouldn’t ask this, but my mouth couldn’t help it. “Should I have asked for a fae marriage?”
“I will not break my vows to you.” He answered without any pause. “I know we did not discuss anything besides my curse and your safety, but I will not expect anything from you besides your efforts to break that curse.”
I nodded slowly and started to pull my hands away. If he didn’t want anything from me besides a broken curse, I needed to not get attached. It would be hard, though. He might be an insanely powerful ruler, but he’d been considerate and kind to me. I could have learned to love him very easily.
He grabbed my hands before I finished pulling them away.
“Additionally—” He dragged the word out as if hesitating about what he might say after it.
“Additionally, I will not give any other woman the attention that ought to be saved for my wife. I did not bind my heart to yours with magic, but I will not divide it with poor choices. You will not be forced to endure any affections from me, but I will not spend them on anyone else either.”
Rat chose that moment to crash onto my shoulder and squawk for food.
“Stupid bird,” I muttered as Bylur let go of my hands. “We were having a moment.” The bird had probably saved me—Bylur’s words melted my heart. I was in more danger of falling in love with my husband than ever before. It was like he knew exactly what to say to unlock all my emotions.
Bylur’s chuckle told me he’d already started walking away.
I spun toward his soft laugh. “Bylur?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. And I’d still like to help with your council, if you can think of anything I can do.”
“I’ll think on it. And you were probably right before.
Dearan might avoid you so nobody thinks he is trying to sneak around me.
But Dearan is safe. He’s very honorable.
” His voice shifted, moving behind me. “You can open your eyes. And turn around.” I spun toward him but only saw a wall of swirling shadows. “Good night, Auria.”
* * *
The next morning, a fresh parchment sat in the middle of the desk behind our sitting room.
On top of the parchment, lay a stunning white flower with three large petals atop a grass-like stem.
Bylur had written “Snowdrop” across the top of the paper and drawn an arrow to the flower.
Under the title, he’d added these notes:
* Beautiful
* Strong—can survive being frozen and thawed
* In small doses, can ease pain and headaches (when no fae with healing skills are available)
* In large doses, poisonous
It was a pretty little thing to be compared to, but the note made it especially meaningful. He thought I was strong, beautiful, dangerous, and helpful. The note was sweet and my heart fluttered at the generous words. Even the poisonous line seemed like it came with an unorthodox admiration.
I wanted to return the gesture—to make his heart light with compliments—but I couldn’t. If only I knew enough about plants to pick out a flower for him!
I uncapped his ink jar, dipped a pen, and added a question to the bottom of the parchment.
If I’m a snowdrop, what flower would you be?
* * *
The next morning, I rushed to see if he’d answered my question.
Seeing a new flower on a new parchment filled my whole body with a warm happiness.
He didn’t have to answer my questions, but he was letting me into his world with each answer.
And I secretly hoped that he enjoyed the writing of it, since he’d told me he wrote in his own journal to relax.
This page was labeled “Ranunculus,” and the flower was a bright red blossom with layers and layers of paper-thin petals.
* Too bold to hide
* Temperamental (very particular about growing temperatures and soil)
* Ancient origins
* Poisonous
I pursed my lips and read the list twice. His tone didn’t sound particularly positive. I pulled out his ink jar again and added two of my own to the list:
* Beautiful
* Inspiring
Maybe inspiring wasn’t a particularly great description, but I wasn’t ready to tell him that he’d brought happiness and comfort into my life. That just felt too personal. But I wasn’t leaving his list all negative either.
* * *
Orla uncovered a tray of bite-sized, circular breads with some kind of spiralling chocolate spread on top of them. “You will love these!” she squealed.
Sandina had been busy today, but Brielle and I each took one and tasted it at the same time.
I stopped half way through the bite and raised a hand in the air and closed my eyes.
But I couldn’t speak until I finished savoring the bite.
When I swallowed, I faced Orla, who was waiting with her eyes wide in anticipation.
“Orla. I have never tasted anything so perfect in my life,” I gushed.
Brielle bobbed her head up and down. “I can’t even describe how good it is!! It’s like a bread and a pastry and chocolate happiness all at once!”
“Yes!” Orla squealed. “A summer fae came through town yesterday selling fruits, and I bought some cacao from him, and I came up with this!!” She pointed at the top.
“The cream is a sweetened egg and cream mixture with the cacao added.” She flipped the little circle over to show the bread on the bottom.
“Then I swirled more sweetened cacao into the bread to make it extra chocolaty.”
I smelled it before my next bite. “It is absolutely a crime that you have to hide your baking genius. The world would go crazy for these.”
She grinned. “I’m calling them laetis, after some of our older words for joy and happiness.”
“That is perfect,” Brielle said. Then she turned to me. “So, Auria, what great histories and mysteries of the fae can we explain to you today?”
This had become one of our new traditions. I always saved one or two questions I’d found about the fae for my new friends.
“Today’s question is older,” I said, “I just forgot about it before now.”
Brielle swallowed another bite of laetis. “Oooh, a forgotten mystery.”
I laughed. “Forgotten for a few days. I’m not sure how mysterious that makes it.”
Orla waved her hand. “Well go on then. What is it?”
I wiped my fingertips on a small napkin. “What is the Battle of Brothers?”
Brielle’s eyes widened, and she set her laetis down on a plate. “Why that one?”
“Is it a forbidden topic? I’ve just seen several tapestries with it and wondered.”
“It’s not forbidden,” Orla said, “it’s just not old enough history to not hurt. But it’s a pretty short answer.”