Chapter Fifteen
"The Prince asked you on a quest?"
Merle's voice was quiet, a tenuous waver to her words as she glanced between Bran and I. We sat across from her at the same little table where we had grown up eating our meals together.
Her lips were pulled down into a worried frown as her fingers drummed across the wood, her body tense and uncertain.
A little breath escaped me at the question, nerves fluttering in my stomach.
It had taken all my courage to get through the story of all that had happened, to tell Merle of what was to come, but she had listened.
Had sat and listened to every word without interruption.
Had traced a finger upon the scar that now marred my hand when I told her of what had taken place in that second trial, sorrow and horror filling her warm, brown eyes.
Rena had been quick to heal the ravaged skin of my hand, knitting flesh and muscle together once more with her golden light, but it left a ragged, silver scar stark against the olive skin of the back of my hand.
One that not even the healing magic could erase.
She hadn't asked any questions, she had taken one look at my face and had immediately fallen into her training.
She had assessed the wound with careful precision, her voice soft and soothing.
I couldn't have been more grateful in that moment, didn't know how I would have handled prying questions or concern.
When she was done Rena had simply offered that if or when I wished to speak of what happened, she would be there. She didn’t demand answers and it had sent relief rushing through my tired, exhausted mind.
I hadn't spoken a word of what took place to anyone, until now. Until I sat across from Merle, that familiar gaze soothing and softening the raw, jagged edges of my fragmented heart.
Bran had been angry as I recounted the story. I could feel it pulsating from him in waves, battering against me as his knuckles popped beneath the table, but he did not interrupt. The only other sound from him was a low curse as my voice cracked upon Mirabel's name.
When I finished, silence swallowed the room whole as Merle pursed her lips and studied us, her eyes drinking in our tired faces.
She glanced at the paper laid on the tabletop before her, the signed copy of my requests that the prince had promised. The sigil of the Crown of Tavari was sealed at the bottom.
"Do you trust them?"
The question caught me off guard. My thoughts instantly went to the man I knew was waiting in the potions shop below.
Prince Kairen had sent Roan to escort us to Merle's, to answer any questions that she may have. He had mentioned he wanted to come himself, to assuage any concerns, but since he would be stuck in meetings and preparing for the quest nearly all day, he sent Roan in his place.
I had asked him to wait downstairs, thinking it best to treat the initial conversation as a family matter. I wanted Merle's honest reaction, without the distraction of a stranger influencing her responses.
Perhaps it was for my own selfish reasons as well. I had not spoken a word to Roan since the trial, since I had cried in that little room after. I had been feigning ill for any of the training we were supposed to be doing, not quite sure how to face him. Not even sure if I wanted to.
Picking subconsciously at my nail beds as I thought over the question, my gaze locked on the table and the marks scarred upon it over years of use.
The pad of my finger ran over a little jagged crevice I knew was from the tip of one of my daggers.
One of the few nights Merle and I had fought and my blade had been slammed into the wood in frustration.
I couldn’t even remember what the cause of the argument had been.
"I don't know." I wilted beneath her scrutiny.
"I want to, but l'm not sure if I do. Prince Kairen's promises are pretty, Rena is kind, and Captain Delmar.
.." Hesitating, I thought about Roan and all the things I had learned over the few weeks I had known him.
“He is different than I thought he would be.
I want to trust them, to trust their motivations for finding this cure, but can we truly trust anyone in this world that we live in? "
Merle let out a long, heavy sigh. Reaching across the table she grabbed both our hands, the calluses from years of mixing potions rough against my own.
"I have always known I would not be able to keep you two home forever, as much as I wish to.
I have raised you to be smart, to trust your instincts, and to trust each other," she said as she glanced between us, her gaze hardening.
"If you must go, you must swear to look after one another.
There is nobody in this world who will look after you like you do each other.
Trust in that. Do not falter. You are family and you always will be. And most importantly, come home to me."
"We’ll be fine, Ma." Bran insisted, that lazy grin spreading across his lips as he dipped his head to press a kiss to the back of her hand. "Besides, if anyone tries to harm us, they'll have my sword at their neck and her daggers at their back.”
His wink had a choked laugh falling from my lips as I blinked back tears. Merle simply patted his hand. "You get that arrogance from your father."
I didn't miss the light that dimmed in her eyes for a moment at the mention of Bran's father, as if her mind had taken her back to a time in the past. Seeing a man long since dead in the face of the one now sat before her.
It was my turn to make her promise. "I'll make sure he comes back to you, Merle."
Her eyes caught mine, seeing what lurked there in the depths, and she held it before she gave the slightest nod.
"Can you give us a moment, Syra? We’ll be down shortly, that Captain of yours has a few promises to make as well.”
Roan Delmar was a picture of brutal elegance as he leaned against the counter of our little shop, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes roamed over the shelves.
The golden armor he wore was forgotten today in favor of that black cloak he seemed to like.
His white hair was pushed back and slightly tousled as if he had been running a hand through it, and my breath hitched when that two-toned gaze immediately swung to me as the steps creaked beneath my weight.
I hesitated, clenching the railing all the tighter before taking the last few steps.
He pushed off the counter, his movements easy and relaxed. “Where’s the overprotective cousin?”
“Still upstairs.”
My arms crossed at the tension that wound through the air—the awkwardness that seemed to suffocate us. We had never been awkward before, spiteful and sharp, yes, but never this.
My eyes flitted to the potions along the wall, nails picking at my skin.
“Nervous?”
My hand stilled, catching his attention on the motion. Dropping my arms, I leaned back against the railing. “Not at all, why would I be?”
He stepped closer, watching, hunting.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I have n—”
“Then why won’t you look at me, little menace?” My attention snapped up, breath coming short.
A door above shut and he stepped away, hands clasping behind his back as Merle came down the steps, Bran followed closely behind. Startling when I noticed the redness of Bran’s eyes, my focus caught on the pommel that jutted over his shoulder. A sword.
His father’s sword.
The one weapon within the closet we had never dared to touch, for fear of Merle’s wrath if we had ever lost or harmed it.
Roan's head bowed slightly in a sign of respect as she approached him.
"Master Sommers—"
Merle waved a hand. "None of that palace bureaucracy please.
Here it is just Merle, dear." His eyes widened slightly at her nonchalance, his back stiff and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was nerves.
Did he even get nervous? He must have heard of Merle within the Palace, her talent well known throughout the city, but had he ever met her?
"Now, I hear that you're to take my children on a quest?"
My heart warmed at that, her children. Of course I had been included, so easily, so casually. That was just who Merle was.
Roan's eyes slid to me briefly, before focusing back upon the woman before him. She barely came to his shoulders, but if I didn't know better I’d have thought that Merle was towering over him.
"Yes ma'am," he said simply, his head dipping once in acknowledgment. Gone was his usual arrogance, instead replaced by the perfect gentleman. It was unsettling.
"I would like a sacred oath that you'll do everything in your power to ensure their safety."
"Mom!" "Merle!"
Our voices came out as one, our disbelief palpable. To ask for a sacred oath of Roan…
I stepped forward, my head shaking and a protest upon my lips, only to stop short when he offered his arm without hesitation.
Merle gripped it with her own and I could only watch in shock at the fire that flowed from her hand to his, burning neither of them, but floating and twirling in intricate patterns over their skin.
"I, Roan Delmar, faithful servant to our Goddess Soli of the Sun and Earth," he began, teeth gritting as the fire burned brighter at his words, "pledge to you, Merle Sommers, that I will do everything within my power to protect your children upon this quest. If I forsake this promise, let the Goddess of Sun and Earth turn me ash for my broken vow.”
Their hands dropped and Merle held his gaze curiously for a moment before a quiet, "Thank you," slipped from her lips.
To make a sacred oath was magic of the Goddesses. To break the magical bond would have dire consequences upon the oath breaker. I couldn't quite fathom that Roan Delmar, the Kinslayer himself, would be so willing to take one.
He stepped back as I approached Merle, pulling her into a tight hug, the smell of spices invading my senses.
"Take it easy, okay?" I pleaded. "The prince has promised to send you help in my absence, and I’ll be so angry if I come back to you having worked yourself to death."
She squeezed back, a teary huff escaping. "And I shall be very angry if you die on this quest. It shall be me who haunts you one day, little Syra, understood?"
A few tears escaped that I swiped away furiously as I pulled back, allowing Bran his own goodbyes. I joined Roan by the doorway, my back leaning against the cool wood of the wall as I observed the teary farewells.
"You shouldn't have made that oath."
"Why is that?"
"I can take care of myself, Delmar." The bite in my voice was forced and I knew from the smirk that graced his handsome face that he knew it.
"I'm well aware that you can." His response was factual, said with a simple shrug of his shoulders that had my eyes narrowing upon him.
"Then why would you—"
"A mother’s worry is something that neither you nor I can fathom.
" Humor laced his words, dancing across my skin and soaring through my blood.
“If I can ease that anxiety within her, why would I not?
" His tongue ran across his bottom lip before a smirk curved the corners of his mouth.
"Besides, as you said, you're perfectly capable of caring for yourself, little menace, so I'll hardly have to lift a finger to fulfill my oath, right? "
"Goddess, you're infuriating." Slumping against the wall, my focus shifted back to Bran and Merle, their hug tightened, yet I couldn't hear the words they spoke to one another.
My body stiffened as I felt him shift, blocking my view as his face leaned in closely, a hand brushing back the hair that was swept over my shoulder.
His voice was deliciously dark, as his lips nearly brushed the shell of my ear, a sinful caress low and quiet.
“You keep saying that,” he murmured, his warm hand cupping my cheek as his thumb brushed gently over a spot just below the corner of my eye.
“Yet you blush every time you do, did you know that?”
My chest tightened as I fought the urge to lean into his touch. Lifting my gaze to meet his, I laid a hand upon his chest and let my eyes flutter as I leaned in closer, a coy smile of victory forming as I felt his heart rate quicken beneath my palm.
"The Goddesses would reconcile their grievances before you caught me blushing for you, Delmar."
Leaning back, the hand against his chest shoved slightly to create distance between us and his eyes narrowed upon me. Yet it wasn't anger I saw swirling in their depths, but delight.
The prick was enjoying this.
Yet, wasn't I as well?
“Stop avoiding me.”
His words had me pausing, an almost earnestness belying the command in them.
"Am I interrupting something here?"
Jumping, I shoved off the wall, brushing past Roan as I gave Bran a tight smile. “Not at all.”
Sending a quick wave to Merle, I turned and pushed my way out the shop door, my cheeks flaming as the cold air whipped against my skin. My confidence and determination for control of the situation instantly evaporated into the frost bitten wind.
I could hear Roan's wicked chuckle as Bran muttered to him, "You two are so Goddess-damned odd together."
Without waiting to hear the reply, I scurried up the snowy streets of Amori City, willing my heart to slow its rapid beating.