Chapter Twenty-Three
When I awake, the sun hangs low in the sky, and it seems I’ve slept away most of the day. Lying on my back, I stretch out, testing the aches and twinges of my encounter with the Aurora King’s goons.
The hollow pit in my stomach rumbles, and I make my way towards the food left for me earlier. Someone has brought in a fresh platter of bread, cheese, and slices of cured meat. The jug of water is still filled with ice, suggesting someone was in here not long ago.
I try not to let that thought bother me. I was exhausted and slept like the dead. The healer had said the poison might linger in my system for a few days, making me more tired than usual.
As I’m nibbling on a wedge of soft white cheese, a quiet knock raps on the door.
“Come in,” I say, and it swings open to reveal Elswyth.
She’s changed from the leathers she was wearing earlier into a soft green gown the color of moss that sweeps to the floor. Her long hair hangs in thick ringlets so glossy and smooth, they might be made of marble.
“You’re awake!” she says brightly. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay. Thank you.”
“Wonderful. I’m not sure if you’re hungry for a big meal, but I’ve arranged for a quiet dinner with me, the king, your brother, and of course, the prince and his companions. I hope you’ll consider joining us?”
“Of course,” I say.
Now that I’ve rested, I am ready for answers from Cedar.
“It’s up to you, but I can loan you a dress to wear. Or if you’re more comfortable like that, it’s fine too. Tonight is casual, though you’ll want something a little more festive for the ball tomorrow.”
“I’m good like this right now.”
She smiles. “Great, then let’s go.”
I find a pair of green slippers and slide them on before following Elswyth through the Fort.
“Where are the others?” I ask.
“They’re already with Cedar.”
She leads us through a clear glass doorway into an outdoor courtyard lined with flowers and greenery. A lit stone path winds us into a garden lined with hedges and hanging lanterns. In the middle is a round wooden table, and sure enough, Nadir and my brother are seated with the Woodlands King along with Mael and Etienne. Everyone stands as we enter.
Nadir pulls out the chair next to him, and I move to take it while Elswyth settles next to her bonded partner. The two of them kiss like no one else is in the room for a moment, and I wonder if these two are mates as well. Is this what it’s like when you stop fighting it? My gaze slides to Nadir, who’s watching the king and queen before his attention flicks to me, and my stomach freefalls.
Finally, Cedar pulls away from Elswyth and addresses me. I’m curiously impressed they aren’t at all embarrassed by their unrestrained show of affection. What would that be like? I’ve spent so many years pretending not to feel anything someone could use against me.
“Lor, it’s so nice to see you after so many years. You’ve grown so much since you were as high as my knee,” he says.
“Did we meet when I was a child?”
He gives me a patient smile that feels incongruent with his rather blunt demeanor earlier in the forest.
“You probably don’t remember. You were only a small girl the last time I came to visit your family in the woods.”
“I don’t remember,” I say, looking at Tristan. The look on his face suggests he doesn’t recall these visits either.
“Why did you come only when we were small?” Tristan asks, clearly thinking along the same lines.
Cedar presses his lips into a thin line. “Your parents asked me to stop.”
I wasn’t expecting that. “Why?”
“They worried it was dangerous and would draw too much attention to your location. I suppose they were probably right, though it pained me never to see you. My brother wouldn’t have wanted it that way.”
Is he telling the truth? I exchange another glance with Tristan.
“Where have you been all this time?” Elswyth asks. “When we felt you cross the border of The Woodlands, we came immediately to find out why.” She pauses, her face paling as though the memory haunts her. “When we saw the destruction left behind, we feared the worst.”
“You didn’t know what happened?” I ask.
“No,” Cedar says. “We tried for years to find out. Based on the state of the cottage, we had to assume someone had taken you, but there was no sign or trace of who. We thought you must all be dead.”
“So you didn’t tell him about us,” I say, frustration and relief curdling in my stomach. If it wasn’t Cedar, then who was it?
“I would never have told anyone. I swear it,” he says solemnly, and despite everything, I believe him. “Tell who?”
Now I exchange a glance with Nadir, who nods his assent.
“The Aurora King,” I say, my voice wooden. No matter how many years pass, those words will always catch in my throat like choking down the thorny stem of a rose.
Cedar lets out a whoosh of air, sitting back in his chair as he runs a hand over the top of his head, fitting the various pieces together.
“So he wanted to use you or keep you contained?”
I nod. “Very much.”
“Which is it?”
“I’m not completely sure, but all signs point to using me for something.”
The king and queen consider that for a moment, their expressions puzzled.
“Is that why you’re in your human form?” Cedar looks me up and down.
“You know about that?” Tristan asks, and Cedar nods.
“Yes. Your mother showed me once to prove you were all safe without us checking in on you.”
“It’s partly why I am,” I say, not interested in divulging the truth about my trapped magic until I’m sure we can trust them.
“But that was years ago. Where have you been all this time?” Elswyth asks, her voice soft with concern. “What happened to you?”
I hate this story. I hate having to relive it over and over, like pouring salt and lemon over an open scab. A well of tears burns my eyes. I used to be a master at holding them back and pretending they didn’t exist.
Tristan rescues me from having to shoulder this burden and describes our years in Nostraza. As he speaks, I feel the pain and the heartache of those days knife into my chest like it happened only yesterday. I keep trying to shove it down. Pretend none of it existed, but I know that’s impossible. Eventually, I must confront all the ugly truths I’ve been avoiding. Eventually, I must look in the mirror and decide if those years will finally break me or make me.
After Tristan finishes, we all fall silent.
“I’m so sorry,” Cedar says. “I wish I had known.”
“What would you have done?” Tristan asks with a thread of accusation in his voice.
“Everything I could,” Cedar replies with conviction, and I want to believe that’s true. He seems genuine, but I know how gifted Imperial Fae are at lying to suit their own ends.
“What about the rest of you? Where is your sister?” Elswyth asks. “There were three children, weren’t there?”
“She’s somewhere else right now,” I say. “But she’s fine. Or as fine as she can be, all things considered.”
“That’s good.” The queen nods. “I can’t help but feel like we met somewhere before now,” Elswyth says to me next.
“The Sun Queen Ball. You look just like one of the Tributes.”
Of course, I didn’t just attend that ball. I became the center of attention when Atlas lost his shit on Nadir.
“And you…” Elswyth points to Nadir. “Atlas threw you out and banished you. That was quite a stir.”
“I actually thought you’d banish me too,” Nadir admits, and Cedar snorts.
“Atlas can throw all the temper tantrums he wants. That doesn’t mean I’m going to indulge them.”
“I thought you were friends,” I say. “That’s what he told me.”
Cedar shrugs. “He overestimates what he means to me.”
Why doesn’t that surprise me to hear?
“I still don’t understand what you were doing there,” Elswyth says, studying us both.
“Right. Well, some more things happened,” I say.
Nadir lays a hand over mine. “Some more things that the king and queen aren’t going to force you to share, because, quite frankly, you owe them nothing.”
I notice the way Cedar’s jaw clenches before he dips his chin. He could argue that he protected us while we lived in The Woodlands. That he did keep our secrets, but I also see what Nadir is getting at.
“Very well,” Cedar says. “Perhaps I can earn your trust in time.”
He takes a sip of his wine, slowly and deliberately, like he’s gathering his thoughts. He places it back on the table with a clink and then peers at me.
“None of this explains why you ended up in The Woodlands now, though.”
It’s Nadir’s turn to jump in.
“My father still is after her. I won’t get into the details of how Lor and her siblings got out, but as we’ve already discussed, my father wants to use her.”
“For what, though?” Cedar asks. “He can’t bond to her.”
I notice Nadir’s hand tighten on the armrest of his chair like those words make him angry.
“No, he cannot. We know he wants her magic, but we don’t know why yet.”
Cedar seems to consider that.
“Well, that would be a useful thing to find out.”
Nadir arches an eyebrow loaded with sarcasm. “Hence the reason we were in the settlements and how we ended up here when his soldiers got wind of our presence. One that I’m again hoping I don’t have to ask you to keep a secret.”
Cedar’s eyes dance with something that almost feels like amusement.
“With all due respect, Nadir, I cannot stand your father and have no interest in helping him achieve anything. Nothing he’s planning would be good for anyone but himself.”
At that, Nadir cracks into a grin. “Then we’re on the same page.”
The corner of Cedar’s mouth quirks up.
“What about your parents?” Elswyth asks then. “Where are they?”
“They died when the king’s men came for us.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she says. “I just assumed they were with you.”
“You didn’t find their bodies?” Tristan asks, his tone sharp. “When you came to the cottage?”
“No. There was no one left when we arrived.”
She says the words softly, as though they might hurt. And they do, scraping a fresh wound scored into the inside of my chest. I shudder to think what the king might have done with them.
Everyone at the table falls silent, the mood somber. No one has really touched their food.
Eventually, Cedar speaks, his expression grave. “I’m so very sorry for everything you’ve gone through, Lor and Tristan. If there’s anything I can do to help you, then say the word. No matter what happens, you have an ally in The Woodlands. My brother loved your grandmother more than life itself, and he would’ve wanted to honor their union. I have no doubt our realms would have worked as one had they… survived.”
He doesn’t voice the subtext of what he’s saying, but I understand his words for the declaration they are. If this comes to a war, then he will be on my side. I don’t think he’s lying. He seems like a man of his word, and while I don’t understand much about the maneuverings of kings and queens yet, I understand there’s a significance in drawing that line here among a group of witnesses.
“I appreciate that,” I say, my throat tightening with the briny taste of the past.
“I know nothing will ever make up for everything you’ve lost, but we want to do whatever we can,” Elswyth adds, nothing but genuine concern in her voice.
These two. Seeing how they are makes me wish that I could have known my grandfather more than anything.
“Thank you,” Tristan says, voicing the words I’m having trouble articulating.
We move on from our grim history, finishing our suppers as we converse about lighter topics, namely the coming of winter and the ball to celebrate its advent tomorrow night. The more Elswyth talks about it, the more I find myself swept up in her enthusiasm.
“I know you need to get back,” she says. “But please just stay for the party. It would be such an honor to have you there.”
“Who will you say they are?” Nadir asks, gesturing to my brother and me.
“Distant family,” Elswyth says. “It’s not a lie. Is it?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“But I think you should remain incognito,” she tells Nadir. “Another relative, perhaps? Other than the nobles, few have reason to recognize who you are, and they can be swayed into silence. Our people are loyal.”
My mouth stretches into a yawn. While I slept most of the day, I’m still feeling the effects of the previous night.
“And with that, I think you should all get some rest tonight,” Elswyth says. “I promise you’ll dance until the wee hours tomorrow!”
She lifts her glass, and we all do the same. As I stare across the table at the only other family we have left in the world, I feel lighter than I expected.
Maybe it’s foolish, and maybe I’m putting too much stock into this interaction, desperate for the family we lost, but for the first time in a while, I feel a sense of hope burning in my chest.