CHAPTER FIVE #2
Ilain shrugged, then took a deep sip of wine, eyes shifting back to the front of the room.
Vayden muttered something in Schonese, at which his wife chuckled. Then he reached over and set his hand on top of Ilain’s wine glass. “Why are you drinking yourself into a stupor?” he demanded.
Though she scowled, his sister crossed her arms and sat back. Her eyes flicked away again.
Thom followed her line of sight and smirked.
“If I had to wager a guess, it probably has something to do with that,” he said, pointing to the far corner, where Ethenn, Emmaas, and Lieutenant Lohen now sat conversing with another woman who had joined them, her chair drawn very near to the young man’s.
The woman was quite beautiful, with tight golden curls and porcelain skin.
She had a sharp nose like many Wauldeners, but it only served to give character to her otherwise soft and youthful face.
She wore a dress of sky blue, its flowy fabric draped with a demure, romantic flair, while the fit gracefully indicated an ideally feminine figure beneath its delicate folds.
And she was clearly entranced by Ethenn.
“Ah,” Vayden said, then frowned. He looked at Ilain. “I don’t understand. I thought you liked Ivry.”
Ilain took another swig of wine, her bare shoulders growing tense. “I have no personal problems with Ivry. She’s a fine Mage even if she is a scheming hag.”
“Oh,” Thom said, then laughed. “Oh, I see. She’s a Mage.”
“And Ethenn is a Warrior,” Ilain said flatly.
Thom looked over at the pair. The woman, Ivry, was smiling brightly at Ethenn, and, admittedly, she had a lovely smile. As expected, a crimson-red flush was creeping up from under Ethenn’s collar at Ivry’s attention. What was unexpected was that Ethenn was talking to her and smiling back.
When Ivry’s hand came to rest on Ethenn’s forearm with evident flirtatious intent, Ilain knocked back the rest of her wine and stood. “Excuse me,” she muttered.
Thom, Vayden, and Isla watched with interest as Ilain stormed across the tavern and right up to Ethenn and Ivry.
The couple looked up at her approach, Ivry saying something that looked like a greeting, though Thom couldn’t hear the words.
Ilain didn’t bother to reply. She ignored the woman altogether, grabbed a handful of Ethenn’s coat, and hauled him to his feet.
Ethenn appeared to protest, but Ilain didn’t pause as she yanked him along behind her, carting him through the tavern to disappear into the storeroom from which they’d entered.
After Ilain shut the door behind them with enough force to rattle the frame, Vayden turned back to Thom. “As an elder brother,” he said, “I feel I should ask: Should I be concerned?”
Thom raised his brow, amused. “About Ilain? No. About what she’ll do to the boy? Probably.”
Vayden’s brows hung low in confusion. “She . . . likes him?”
“You should ask her about that,” Thom said. “Look, I’m not exactly privy to how things work here in Wauld, but of all people, you don’t need to worry about Ethenn taking advantage of Ilain. If anything, she’ll take advantage of him.”
Vayden and Isla shared a look, and Thom worried he’d said the wrong thing. “Sorry, no—not like that,” he corrected. “What I mean to say is—”
“We understand,” Isla said. “Ilain is determined to marry a Warrior. The problem is she hasn’t met one she likes enough to pursue.”
“Or at least, she hadn’t,” Vayden added, his eyes on the storeroom’s door.
“Right,” Thom muttered, then sipped his ale awkwardly. “So . . .” He cleared his throat and looked at Isla. “You go by Highlady Freye. Do Waulden women not take on their husbands’ last names? Or is the convention a Schonese thing?”
Isla’s dark eyes glimmered slyly. She set her hand on Vayden’s, which rested on the table. “It’s a precaution,” she said. “We aren’t legally married due to our work with the Alliance. I needed to remain single in the eyes of the monarchy and the Orders.”
“But,” Vayden added, “we are married in the eyes of Allore, and that’s all that matters.”
Thom waved a hand. “I may be Ephrian, and Heavens knows we love our traditions, but the officiality of your union or lack thereof doesn’t bother me. If you said you’d done the ceremony yourselves, I’d still consider it binding.”
Vayden dipped his chin in appreciation. “And what about you? Are you married?”
“No,” Thom said with an immediate, self-derisive chuckle.
“Engaged?”
“No.”
“Courting someone?”
Thom raised his tankard and said, “No,” then took a sip.
“Interesting,” Vayden said.
Thom was about to ask why it was interesting when Lieutenant Lohen dropped into the seat next to him. “Vayd, I’m going to need you to talk to your brother,” she said, sipping from a short glass tumbler. An inch of amber liquor swirled at the bottom when she set it on the table.
Thom raised his brow. He’d never met a woman who drank whiskey. Granted, such distilled liquors were quite expensive and often reserved for the nobles or vastly wealthy merchants.
Vayden grinned at the lieutenant. “Auden’s driving you to drink already?”
The woman grimaced. “He won’t leave me alone.”
“Tell him to shut up,” Vayden suggested. “It’s always worked for me.”
“He’s not trying to marry you,” she argued.
Vayden and Isla laughed while Thom eyed the lieutenant with renewed interest. Ilain had told him that Auden was once in love with a Night Mage named Maura, but that she was lost to the Deep.
While he knew the Day Mage was capable of romantic attachment, he struggled to imagine him attempting to woo anyone.
“Huh,” Thom said with a smirk. “What sort of lines does he use to win you over?”
“I beg your pardon,” Lohen said, her thick black eyebrows dropping low over her almond-shaped eyes.
“Well, I can’t imagine he’s a good flirt. What does he say? That his dedication to Day magic speaks of his faithfulness?”
That got Vayden to chuckle while the lieutenant continued to study Thom. “Are you having a laugh at my expense?” she asked.
“Not at all,” Thom replied, amused. “I simply can’t fathom what it looks like for Auden Calder to have caught feelings.”
She drew back, her trim figure muscular like any Warrior’s would be, but somehow still petite.
Her unembellished dress bore almost a military cut with a square neckline that matched her no-nonsense expression.
Its deep color reminded Thom of the reddest wine, setting off her light brown skin.
She was attractive in a foreboding manner, one that suggested no man should dare to approach her, as they could never hope to match her superiority.
Thom had to admit he was impressed that Auden had plucked up the courage to make a move, though he couldn’t fault his taste.
As Thom finished his assessment of her, it seemed she also completed her evaluation of him. A slow smile spread across her lips. “I don’t think we’ve officially met,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Breata Lohen. You can call me Brea.”
“Thom Deckard,” he said, not surprised by the unusual strength of her handshake.
Drawing back, Brea returned to the previous conversation. “Auden doesn’t have feelings for me. He has ambitions for himself.”
“Well, he does have some feelings for you,” Vayden interjected. “He likes you well enough; it’s just not in a romantic way.”
Brea lifted her glass. “How flattering.”
“He desires to save Maura,” Isla added. “It’s a noble pursuit.”
“I don’t have any interest in being part of anyone’s noble pursuit.” Brea turned to Vayden once more. “If I’m going to travel with this group, I need you to tell him that he’s picked the wrong Warrior.”
Vayden gave her an apologetic shrug. “Alma’s already promised to Grey. Unless we find another female Warrior, Auden doesn’t have other choices.”
“What an honor, being a last resort.”
Thom let out an amused huff just as the storeroom’s door opened.
Ilain strode out of the room, head held high, and Ethenn stood in the doorway, a look of pure confusion on his face.
Thom scanned Ilain for any sign of mussing, but every bit of her scarlet dress and fiery hair was in place.
Evidently, she’d not shared her true feelings with Ethenn.
When Ilain joined Auden and his friends, Ethenn ambled uncertainly into the tavern. He glanced at Thom’s table before bypassing it to sit with Rafferty at the front of the room. It appeared that Thom had more apologies to make.
He glanced down into his empty tankard, then caught Imelda’s eye and gestured for her to bring another.
“Isn’t that your third?” Brea asked.
Thom turned back to her, surprised. “Are you counting my drinks?”
“I count everyone’s drinks,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because drinking makes people ridiculous,” she said with a pointed look in Ilain’s direction. “And I like to be prepared in case I need to intervene.”
Thom tipped his chin toward the whiskey tumbler in her hand. “I don’t imagine that’ll aid your endeavor.”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “I can’t get drunk.”
“Lucky,” Vayden muttered.
“It’s a side effect of being a Warrior,” Brea explained at Thom’s baffled expression. “The more I drink, the more my magic rises to counteract the alcohol’s effects.”
Thom shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense,” he said. “I guarantee you, I’ve seen both Evylin and Ethenn get drunk.”
“They’re both young, rather inexperienced Warriors. The greater your connection with your magic, the less the alcohol affects you.”
“Doesn’t that take the point out of drinking?” Thom asked.
“Not if you actually enjoy whatever it is you’re drinking,” Vayden said, lifting the glass of wine in front of him. “Being drunk is a distraction from the drink in your hand.”
Thom grinned. “You’d make a poor drinking buddy,” he said, then thanked Imelda as she set his new tankard in front of him.
Turning back to Brea, Thom tipped his head toward Auden and Ilain near the front. “I have a potential solution to your problem,” he said.
“Do you?” she asked.