Chapter 52
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
LEINA
I’m limping when I make my way to my chamber, long past sundown.
I hate him. I hate Skywarden Ryot of Stormriven.
I’ve waited for him to get back for months, somehow both terrified and thrilled for him to return, to explore this unnamed, forbidden thing that exists between us.
But all he’s been thinking about is whipping my ass in the sparring ring, which he just accomplished for the second day in a row.
I grab a jar of aldersigh and sink into a boneless puddle on the floor of my new room, stripping out of my chainmail and tunic to smear the foul-smelling ointment over each bruise and sore muscle.
I didn’t even make it to the bathing chamber, so the sand from the arena makes a gritty, uncomfortable mess when I rub the ointment directly over it.
I hiss out a breath as I get to the open wounds and the blisters on my palms.
The sharp knock on the door, followed by murmured jostling, has me scowling. If Ryot is here … I throw a robe over myself and swing the door open, prepared to tell him to go to any one of the seven hells.
But it’s not Ryot.
Faelon, Thalric, Caius, Nyrica, Kiernan, and Leif all stand outside my door.
“Leina!” Faelon exclaims, slapping a hand on my shoulder in the traditional, manly greeting everyone seems to prefer here. The one that says you belong to us . “We thought the Elder was never going to release you back into the wild.”
I somehow manage a smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. Still, I think only Nyrica and Thalric notice. Maybe just Thalric, actually. Faelon, as usual, is oblivious.
He leans further into my chamber, winking conspiratorially. “We’ve come to take you for a good fucking!” he announces proudly. “This is the first time you’ve been released from training before the middle of the night, and it’s finally time to celebrate!”
“I’m sorry. What?”
Nyrica rolls his eyes. “It’s our rotation at the Crimson Feather,” he answers for Faelon. “Faelon here wanted to make sure you didn’t miss another opportunity to … relax.”
Understanding dawns. I haven’t been able to go all winter. Training with the Elder has meant long, exhausting hours.
Of course, I’m exhausted now, too, but when I think back to that flash of guilt on Ryot’s face, to the way he beat me down in the sparring ring …. A night at a brothel might be what I need.
I smile, and it must be predatory, because even the oblivious Faelon shrinks back.
“I would love to go with you to the brothel,” I answer.
“Pleasure house,” Faelon mutters back. He hates it when I call it a brothel. But he’s watching me a bit more cautiously, now.
“Right!” I bare my teeth in a smile. “Pleasure house. Let me go get changed.” I start to close the door on their bemused faces, then swing it back open. “What exactly does one wear to a pleasure house?”
Faelon opens his mouth and closes it, at a loss for words, for once. All the guys look at each other, nonplussed.
It’s Thalric who answers. “We’ll go dressed like this.”
They’re wearing their normal day-to-day wear, tunics and leather pants. Just … cleaner.
But black tunic and leather pants isn’t really the man-eating vibe I’m going for tonight. “What do the women at the Crimson Feather normally wear?”
“Gowns,” all the men answer simultaneously.
“Actually,” I decide, considering my options. “I’ll need some time. Should I meet you there?”
Faelon looks both puzzled and worried at my mention of needing more time. “You don’t know the way! But you look fine. Completely fine. Come on. We don’t want to miss out on any of the, umm, activities.”
“I’m literally in my robe, Faelon.”
That cocky smirk. “Exactly. Very efficient, if you ask me.”
I bark out a laugh at the same time all the guys groan. Caius casts his eyes up to the ceiling and starts mumbling, as if he’s praying for patience.
Thalric steps forward and pushes the others back, out of my room and into the corridor. “I’ll stay here and wait for Leina. You guys go ahead.”
Faelon grins again, content. He points a finger at me. “Don’t bail on us, Leina. I expect to see you at the Crimson Feather for a full night of drinking and debauchery.” He leans in like he’s telling me a secret. “You really do need this. You’ve been a bit … uh … irritable.”
I snort again and pat him on the arm. “So I’ve heard. Don’t worry. I’ll be there.” The men turn down the corridor, Faelon jostling with Leif to be in the lead as they go. I turn to Thalric, who is leaning against the wall of my room with an easy grace.
“I don’t own a dress. I need to go see Elowen.”
He nods easily, pushing off the wall. “Let’s go, then.”
“We’re not allowed to visit the healers after lights out,” I say as I slip into my boots.
He shrugs his shoulder. “You certainly look injured enough after a day in the ring with Ryot.” He opens the door, and we start down the hallway. “If anyone asks, we’ll say we think you have internal bleeding.”
We turn down a corridor, heading toward the infirmary. The corridors are empty, everyone either in bed or at the Crimson Feather.
I lower my voice, so that it’s barely a whisper. “How long have you and Nyrica been together?”
Thalric slants a glance at me. “At the Synod? Twenty-two years.”
I stop, realization at his disclaimer dawning. “You knew each other before you presented?”
He gives a curt nod. “We’ve been together since we were 17,” he says. “But we broke it off for a while when we presented.”
“For a while?” I slow, the math slotting into place in my head. “You were apart for over a decade? Why did you wait so long to get back together?”
Thalric raises a brow. “Nosy little thing.”
Heat climbs up my neck. “I didn’t mean to. I just?—”
“You did, but it’s fine. You want to know what it’s like to love someone in a place that demands your whole damn soul and says that love makes you weak.”
I avert my eyes and scowl. “No, I?—”
“It’s hell, Leina,” he says, and I swing my eyes back to him. “It’s hell not being able to touch Nyrica when I want. To not reach out when he’s hurting. To stand next to him and pretend he doesn’t matter, not more than anyone else here. But do you know what was even worse?”
Silently, I shake my head. He looks at me, dead-on. “Pretending I could live without him.”
His eyes take on a far-away look. “We made all these plans when we were kids. We’d live in a little house in a quiet village—painted blue, for some reason.
I don’t remember why. We’d run a tavern.
Nyrica would charm the patrons, sing them songs and stories, and I’d run the books, keep the peace, fix the shelves when they broke.
We even talked about adopting a kid someday.
Someone small and loud to spoil rotten.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “That you had to live without each other for so long.”
His eyes find mine again, and he smiles but it’s sad and weary.
“Me too. But things could’ve been worse.
Only one of us could’ve presented. We could’ve ended up in different casts.
One of us could’ve died in battle a long time ago.
We didn’t get the life we dreamed up in that blue house, but we have a life.
One with love in it. And sometimes that has to be enough.
You make peace with what is and let go of what’ll never be. ”
I ignore the way his eyes seem to stare into my soul and start walking again.
“Ryot’s been hard on you,” he says.
“I don’t want to talk about Ryot.”
“Funny. He said the same thing about you.”
I wave a hand in the air. “Just drop it.”
We walk in silence a bit longer. Thalric waits until we reach Elowen’s door. “You know, he slept in the hallway in front of your room last night. Something about not leaving you unguarded.”
My mouth slides open, but no words escape. Thalric shoots me a sly grin before he knocks on Elowen’s door. She opens it almost immediately, always prepared for a late-night injury or illness.
“Hi, Elowen,” I say, a genuine smile spreading across my face.
“Leina!” she says, her eyes catching on a bruise at the opening of my robe. “Ohh,” she says. “You poor dear. Internal bleeding? Can you head into the first room? I need to get some supplies.”
“Actually,” I hedge. “My emergency is less health related and more—” I gesture to my simple robe “—style related. Can I borrow a dress?”
Her eyebrows zing upward, surprise lighting across her face. “Oh.” Her eyes widen and she claps her hands, excited. “Oh! How fun. Come in, come in.”
She ushers us into her little apartment.
“Are we impressing Ryot?” she asks, her voice in a low whisper. Thalric smirks again.
“What? No!” I stutter. “We’re impressing the … we’re going to the Crimson Feather,” I finish lamely, blushing as I say it out loud. Am I really doing this?
“Oh.” Her excitement dims, but then she brightens just as quickly. “The Crimson Feather is so much fun! And you need a night of fun.”
Why would the princess have been to a brothel?
Thalric has taken up his standard pose—leaning against the door with one foot crossed over the other.
“I’m sure Ryot will join us eventually,” he drawls, “about the time he discovers Leina’s not passed out in her chamber from exhaustion.
” He raises an eyebrow at Elowen in a question.
“Though I’m not entirely sure we should be encouraging this. ”
Elowen waves his concerns away, as she studies me. “It will be fine,” she says. “They both need a little distraction in their sad little lives.”
“Hey!” I protest.
Thalric shakes his head dismissively. “There’s no offense to it. We all lead sad little lives here, don’t we, Elowen?” He says it with more than a little bit of bitterness, and my heart breaks for him.
Elowen, too, looks beaten down. Then she forces a smile. “None of that, Thalric,” she says. “Tonight is a night for distraction.” She goes into another chamber, mumbling under her breath. “She’s so short.”
“I heard that!” I call out to her.