CHAPTER TWELVE
Ten, Evylin decided, was an ideal number of people.
When they returned to the Crimson Clover for an early dinner, it was with great laughter and easy conversation.
The Bonding ceremony wouldn’t take place for another few hours, so she put off her nerves as the group settled into the dining room, pulling tables together to make space for their large number.
Vayden had to soothe Mrs. Howerth, who was busy making the suppertime meal, with promises to right the space before they left, but it seemed only Deckard’s charm was enough to allow them access to her larder for their bountiful meal.
Soon, the table was filled with dried venison, sliced sausages, manifold cheeses, fruit spreads, and loaves of fresh bread.
As they clustered around the table, Evylin made sure to sit near Brea, eager to get to know the woman.
Positioning herself thus wound up splitting her away from Deckard, who was seated at the head of the table with Vayden on one side and Ethenn on the other.
Though Auden seemed intent on taking the seat on Brea’s other side, Thom got there first, drawing a smirk from the lieutenant.
They all fell into small conversations, getting to know their new team members better.
Evylin determined that, while she wasn’t entirely convinced of the suitability of training with Brea, she did like the woman.
The lieutenant was witty and companionable without being gregarious or overly enthusiastic, which made for amusing conversation, often filled with blunt statements and biting retorts.
When Auden was distracted by a conversation with Isla, Rafferty leaned across the table to surreptitiously remark, “So my lovely lieutenant,” his brows lifted in a conspiratorial expression, “you don’t seem all that keen on the two younger Calders. Or am I mistaken?”
Brea’s mouth quirked in the corner. “They’re perfectly honorable individuals,” she replied.
“But . . . ?”
She popped a small morsel of cheese into her mouth. “Call it a difference of opinion,” she said. “One wants something I cannot give, while the other blindly supports his pursuits. We look at life differently.”
Based on Thom’s explanation earlier, Evylin knew Brea was referring to Auden’s wish to Bond with her.
After Ilain’s declaration that Bonding was the pinnacle achievement of any Warrior or Mage’s life, she was curious to know why Brea wouldn’t want that as well.
But then, she supposed the lieutenant could love another Mage, and that’s why she had rejected Auden.
“I do have a question,” Thom said.
“Yes, mi’caro?” Brea replied casually.
Thom hesitated, then asked, “How long have you known the Calders?”
Brea paused, considering. “I met Vayden first, through Isla, of course. When my family and I came to Wauld fifteen years ago, I was sent to Sutterlund Reach to meet with Isla so she could teach me the Allundan language. As a cover, I was hired by the Order of the Wind as her lady’s maid.
We grew close due to our shared Schonese heritage.
After a time, I met Vayden, and later, when I went on to join the Alliance’s militia, I also met Auden and Ilain. ”
“Huh.” Thom leaned forward then, eyes narrowed. “So your first language is Schonese?”
“Obviously.”
“And what,” he raised his brow, “does ‘meekarow’ mean?”
Brea’s dark eyes twinkled. “Wouldn’t you like to know, mi’caro?” she said, emphasizing the correct pronunciation of the term.
“Me care-o?” Thom repeated.
“Roll the R,” she corrected.
He attempted it and fell frightfully short.
Brea laughed, then reached over to pinch his cheeks between two fingers. “Try again,” she instructed.
Even with her help, he still failed, mostly due to his smile.
Evylin watched them with fascination, bemused by their quick camaraderie. She’d never seen Thom take to anyone so fast. He’d not even been this comfortable and friendly with her in the early stages of their friendship. It was odd and potentially worrisome.
Deciding she should mention the peculiar relationship to Deckard later, Evylin was startled by Ilain’s sudden grip on her hand. She turned to the woman on her other side. “Yes?” she said.
“It’s time for us to leave,” Ilain said.
Evylin frowned, noting that everyone else was still seated, looking perfectly languorous.
“Not them,” Ilain said, reading her hesitation. “Just the two of us.”
“Why just us?” Evylin asked.
“Have you forgotten you have an important ceremony this evening? We have to prepare.”
Evylin blanched, her stomach suddenly knotting.
The evening light had begun to fade, leaving the sky glowing a rusty orange as the shadows lengthened around the dining room.
A few other guests started to arrive for their meals.
The day was growing late, and the Bonding ceremony would begin in two short hours.
Glancing toward the end of the table, Evylin looked at Deckard. He listened intently to Vayden, his gaze steady and his smile attentive, completely unaware of her sudden unease.
“What about Jonn?” Evylin asked, turning back to Ilain.
With a sweep of her hand, Ilain pushed back from the table. “He can prepare in my room,” she said. “You and I are going to need the larger space.”
Seeing them rise, Vayden halted his story. “Off to get ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” Ilain confirmed, then turned to Deckard. “Maurus has a parcel for you at the front desk. Take it and my room key from him so you can get ready. You’ll need roughly thirty minutes.”
“And Evie needs two hours?” Thom teased.
Ilain passed him a haughty smile. “Women are more important.” She set her hand on Ethenn’s shoulder then. “A package also awaits you at the desk,” she said, “as does one for Auden, Thom, Brea, and Isla.”
“What about Vaydy-boy and me?” Rafferty asked with a wily grin.
“Neither of you is invited.”
“What?” Rafferty demanded, incredulous.
“It’s a sacred ceremony,” Ilain returned, “not meant for prying eyes. If you aren’t part of the ceremony, you aren’t welcome.”
While Rafferty worked out a rebuttal, Ilain grabbed Evylin’s arm and, without another word, began to drag her away from the table.
Impressed by the woman’s grip, Evylin could do little else but follow.
She gave one last glance at Deckard, meeting his gaze for all of two seconds before Ilain had her out the door and in the hall.
With purpose, Ilain led her into the foyer, stopping to accept two parcels from Maurus before heading up the stairs. “We’ll have to hurry if we want to make it on time,” she instructed as they walked to Deckard and Evylin’s room.
“Exactly how involved a process is this?” Evylin asked.
“Not very,” she replied. “And it isn’t precisely necessary, just enjoyable. While you can Bond without the additional flair, this makes it all much more exciting. And the pomp and ceremony feels more official, wouldn’t you say?”
“I haven’t a clue what we’re doing, so no, I wouldn’t.”
Ilain chuckled, then unlocked the suite’s door and led Evylin in.
She settled the parcels on the bed before charging about the space, preparing for whatever rigors she intended to put Evylin through.
With a flick of her wrist, Ilain lit the stove in the corner.
Then she found the bathing supplies in the wardrobe where Deckard had organized them.
“Ah.” Ilain shoved them into Evylin’s arms. “Here. Take your time, scrub every inch, and use this when you’re done.”
Evylin cautiously took the amber bottle, staring at the liquid inside. “What is this?” she asked.
Ilain smiled. “It’s perfumed oil. It’ll make you smoother than silk, and you’ll smell like a whole garden of primroses and Tanemisian cypresses for a week.”
Though she wasn’t sure what a cypress was, Evylin didn’t bother asking. “I bathed yesterday,” she said.
“So did I,” Ilain said. “That doesn’t mean I won’t be taking another.”
Shoved into the hall, Evylin had no choice but to listen to the woman’s instructions.
She carefully swept her hair on top of her head, not bothering to wash it as she bathed.
Once she dried off, she applied the oil, finding the scent light, like springtime.
It reminded her of running through the forest or tumbling down the hills of Whickam Village with Ryen as a child.
Smiling as she tied off her robe, she decided to ask Ilain if she could keep it.
The second Evylin returned to the room, Ilain swooped over like a mother hen. “Sit there,” she instructed, pointing at the table by the stove, then taking the towel and other bathing supplies. “The tea is ready, and there’s a book on Bonding. Read it. I’m going to bathe.”
And with that, the door latched behind Ilain, leaving Evylin alone. She scanned the room. Draped across the bed were various garments, most in black but a few in white. She thought of perusing them but didn’t want to face Ilain’s wrath if she disturbed anything.
Taking her seat at the table, Evylin poured herself a cup of tea, then took up the book awaiting her. Attachments of the Soul, the leather cover read. The book was thin, no more than a hundred pages or so, and seemingly very old.
Opening the book, Evylin settled in. This was exactly what she’d been hoping for: a chance to learn about Bonding, to know what she and Deckard had agreed to.
She turned to the first page, finding the lines tight and the writing cramped.
A thin book it might be, but short it was not.
That didn’t matter; Evylin loved to read.
She often read novels five times this length.
This should only take her a matter of a few hours at most.
Evylin read the first paragraph. Then she read it again. And again.
Frowning, Evylin narrowed her eyes on the text and tried to focus.