Chapter 2
Elariya
“The Echo in My Blood”
The Gilded Stag was already brimming with people by the time Emabelle and I arrived.
Borsai, our guard, remained outside to hitch the horses, promising he’d be along in a moment.
Emabelle and I had been coming to this tavern since we were twelve. Father used to let us sneak away for pumpkin pie and berry punch, as if sweetness could ward off the darker parts of Stormfell.
Being here—somewhere as familiar as home—felt like a rare kind of relief.
Night had settled in fully by the time we arrived. It was probably too late to be out, but Emabelle had persuaded my mother to allow it on the condition that Borsai escorted us and we didn’t leave his side.
Mother tried to argue that I wasn’t strong enough yet, but I assured her I was.
I was glad she agreed. I needed to get away, and the timing was a small mercy: Thayden had left before dinner on business, and Grandmother had been gone since dawn, traveling to the next town for medicinal herbs.
From what I’d been told, the only good thing to come out of the last month—while I’d been out of it—was that Mother had crossed paths with a wealthy merchant who’d enlisted her and Grandmother to tend a sick relative.
He’d paid more than our family had seen in decades.
I supposed the promise of stability had almost felt like hope.
Almost.
With King Varis fading and the court already shifting, no amount of coin could save us. Only my marriage to Thayden.
While I slid onto the bench in front of one of the corner tables, Emabelle set off to the bar to get us pumpkin pie and strawberry ale.
I shrugged off my shawl and folded my hands in my lap, forcing myself into stillness.
I took in my surroundings. Smoke curled along the rafters, blurring the lanternlight into something hazy and gold. The air smelled of ale, roasted meat, and the sweeter notes of pumpkin spice and baked sugar.
Stormfell’s working folk filled the long tables: traders with road dust still clinging to their boots, merchants hunched over tankards, and laborers rubbing at aching hands.
Across the room, the door opened, and Borsai walked in. His eyes found mine, and he cocked his head toward the bar, silently telling me he’d be over there where I could see him.
I nodded back and smiled, then shifted on the bench and let my senses stretch.
A group of traders at a table buried in the crowd caught my attention as their voices rose, roughened by drink and smokeleaf.
“…should’ve stayed home,” one muttered, dragging his finger through a ring of spilled ale. “King falls ill, and suddenly, every toll doubles.”
Another snorted. “Ill, my arse. The man is dying.”
“Exactly. Affected by the blight,” a third said quietly. “Picked it up beyond the eastern wards. Wind carried it straight through his lungs.”
“Doesn’t matter what it is,” the first man replied. “Court’s already circling like vultures. You can feel it, can’t you? Everything tightening.”
I went rigid, my attention sharpening despite myself.
A chair scraped. Someone laughed too loudly. A barmaid barked for them to mind their tongues.
I lowered my gaze and smoothed my skirts, but the man’s words settled heavily inside my chest.
He was right. Everything was tightening. It was as though the world had drawn a slow breath and was waiting to see who would choke first.
King Varis’ passing would change everything. I couldn’t imagine what would happen to the other magic-born beings throughout the mortal lands.
I was half-human, half mage, but I was treated the same as if my human side didn’t exist. It was only due to my father’s friendship with King Varis that people tolerated my family. And I feared what might happen even after I married Thayden.
I might not have witnessed the events of the last few weeks, but I sensed the power shifting for the worse.
My mother had explained that she’d arranged my marriage to Thayden months ago, but back then, it was a measure to appease the lords of the South, who weren’t comfortable with her taking charge of my father’s duties as warden.
King Varis had granted Thayden’s father custody of the role weeks ago in anticipation of the wedding. But now that the king was dying, Thayden’s family would have more than just custody.
The wedding was even being held in the capital. Originally, it was supposed to be here in Stormfell in honor of my father’s role. But that didn’t matter anymore.
Nothing was ever certain. Even when people told you it was.
It was worse when you were helpless. Like me.
My curse was a cruel joke, the perfect weapon to use against someone who had always wanted to be strong. But I guessed I was only as weak as I allowed myself to be.
For now, the only thing I could do was keep going. Keep moving. Keep my eyes open.
Because more and more, I’d felt that something wasn’t quite right in my world.
I straightened just as Emabelle reappeared, balancing two tankards of pink-hued ale and a small plate piled high with pie. She caught my eye and smiled—a quick, practiced thing—but I saw the tension in her shoulders. And in her eyes.
She set the tankards and plates down, then slid mine over to me. “A delicious helping of the best pumpkin pie and strawberry ale in Stormfell just for you.”
“Thanks.” I chuckled. “I definitely needed this.”
“Eat and forget your worries.” She flicked her long raven hair over her shoulder and nodded toward the pie. With Emabelle, there was nothing a slice of pie couldn’t fix.
Though I smiled and tucked in, I wished forgetting my worries were that simple.
At least the pie tasted great. The sweetness hit my taste buds in all the right ways, and for one blissful moment, I forgot everything.
Emabelle ate, and from the look on her face, the pie was working its magic on her, too. But once the moment had passed, tension crept back into the space between us.
Emabelle grabbed her drink and took a long gulp.
I could have done the same but decided to watch her instead.
She lifted her head and met my gaze, her eyes brimming with caution. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I guess so. Are you okay?”
The question seemed to throw her. Everyone was being so gentle with me, treating me like I was made of glass. I’d bet no one asked her how she was doing.
“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m okay because you’re okay. You scared the shit out of us when you were…” Her voice trailed off, like she found it difficult to form the words.
“When I was in the coma?” I offered.
“Yeah.” She immediately averted her gaze.
Father used to say when people did that, it was a dead giveaway they were trying to hide something from you.
I wanted to press and ask her what she might be hiding, but I decided to wait a little longer. We’d only just sat down to eat. I could wait.
“The men over there were talking about King Varis.” I motioned to the table in the crowd, changing the subject.
Emabelle glanced over her shoulder, then looked back at me. “You’re gonna hear talk like that a lot. People are worried. But I guess not more worried than we are.”
I rested my arm on the table and straightened. “We’ll be safe though, won’t we? I mean once I marry Thayden.”
Concern tightened her delicate features.
“Hey, I don’t want you to worry about that.
” She moved the plate out of the way to reach for my hand and gave my knuckle a reassuring squeeze.
“You just need to worry about yourself. Thayden will take care of you. He and his father have been taking the greatest care of your mother and grandmother all these years. I have no doubt they’ll continue to do so. Everything will be okay.”
I gave her a thin stare. Her words of encouragement would have sounded more encouraging if she hadn’t left out one noticeable thing. “You didn’t mention yourself.”
She retracted her hand, and an uneasy look entered her eyes. “Myself… well, things are a little different for me. I’m the cousin.”
I didn’t like the gloomy shift in her tone. “You’ve always been my cousin. You sound like that might change.”
“Let’s just say things will be different for me from here on.”
Gods. Something else was going on. And it seemed she needed the break of the evening just as much as I did. “What’s happening, Emabelle?”
She relaxed her shoulders and released a long sigh. “Your mother wants me to marry one of the lords from the Barron family.”
My eyes widened. From what I remembered, the Barrons loathed my mother and grandmother because they were mages. They only sucked up to my father because of his good standing with the king. “Why would Mother suggest such a thing?”
“Firstly, they’re interested in my father’s old saw mill.” She smiled without humor. “It’s the one thing I own in this world, but I must marry to claim it.”
My stomach dipped. “I didn’t know that.”
“It’s a condition of my inheritance. And I guess the next reason your mother wants me to marry one of the Barrons is to make sure I’m well taken care of.
Marrying one of them will mean I’ll want for nothing.
I suppose if things get bad after King Varis dies, being associated with a family like the Barrons will keep me safe. ”
She meant because she was raised by mages and lived in a magic born household. “You need to do what keeps you safe.”
“I’m running off with Phillipe,” she blurted in one breath.
Her words hit me like a misstep on a darkened stairwell. I gripped the edge of the bench. “What? You what?”
“You heard me.” She lowered her voice and glanced over her shoulder at Borsai, checking he hadn’t heard. He was too far away, but I understood her concern.
Phillipe was the sea merchant’s son. Mother would never allow it.
“Are you crazy?”
“Yes.” She laughed off key, then sighed. “But seriously, I love him. I’ve been seeing him in secret for seven years. I’ve decided I want to be with him.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am, and please don’t tell anyone. I know I have nineteen days until your memory rests, but I—”
“I won’t say a word,” I cut her off and nodded. “Your secret is safe with me.”