Chapter 2 #2
Suddenly, in that warm chamber nestled on the hard floor, Sylvi found herself intensely desperate.
She had a profound awareness of her shortcomings—far too chatty, far too thin, and far too needy.
Her father reminded her each day of every way she failed their family.
In that moment, that long, heavy moment, there was nothing she wanted more than to speak with someone who didn’t loathe the sound of her voice.
Elias reached for the floor and tapped once with a sharp nail.
Twice.
Relief swam through her, and a smile twisted her lips. “Thank you for tolerating my nonsense, Your Highness.”
His head cocked to the side and his brows drew together again.
“If I talk far too much, you can tell me, you know? Well, that is rather silly of me to say, considering the plan we just worked out. I suppose you can show me.” Sylvi held up her hand, palm out. “Just do this, and I’ll stop.”
When Elias did nothing in response, only continued to watch her in clear confusion, she decided to continue talking lest he lose interest.
“Your Highness, do you have magic?” she asked, curious. After a short moment, Elias tapped twice. “Excellent. I do as well. It is my mother’s magic, you see. Her clan can do beautiful things with plants. She was sent to the mountains to help end a famine there. That is how she met my father.”
Elias’s brow smoothed. He held out his hand, and for a moment she feared she’d said one word too many. But instead of holding it out in a plea for silence, Elias turned his palm to the ceiling and bent his fingers in a quiet beckon.
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Oh. Do you want to see it?”
Two taps.
Pleasantly surprised, she reached for her belt and removed the pouch tied to it by leather strings.
“My mother told me pushing beans and seeds to sprout was a good way to practice. If I give too much, I could hurt myself, you see. This forces me to be careful.” She opened the pouch and plucked out a small, white bean. “Watch closely, Your Highness.”
Sylvi cupped the bean between her palms and called upon the warmth in her veins. With a slow and controlled push, she sent her magic into the bean and opened her hands. A vibrant, green sprout emerged from the bean and curled along the soft golden glow encasing her fingers.
Eyes wide, Elias leaned closer to the bars to observe and pride warmed her cheeks. Everyone loved her mother and they all flocked to watch her revive dying trees and fields of crops. No one had ever thought her and her boring beans amazing before.
“What of your magic, Prince Elias?” she asked, voice low. “What is it you can do?”
He flinched and quickly tapped an iron bar once. No.
“Don’t be like that. It’s not fair to keep secrets.” Sylvi kept the bean sprout cupped in her hands and gave him a look. “You know why I am here, yes?”
Despite his lips being pursed in a pout, he shook his head.
“Well, you silly boy, I will be your wife one day.” When his mouth dropped open, she laughed.
“Please don’t look so disappointed. I am rather nice, I think, once you get to know me.
However, more to the point, you are simply not allowed to keep secrets from your betrothed, and I am desperate to know what sort of magic you can do. ”
Despite the look of utter terror on his face, he tapped the floor, resolute. No.
It was her turn to pout. She puckered her bottom lip. “That is very unkind, you know.”
Elias’s gaze shifted to the ground, but he made to no move to acquiesce to her demands. And why would he? She was just a strange girl who appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He did not owe her that vulnerability.
“I understand,” she said, after several long moments of continued silence. “It is hard to be unguarded, isn’t it, when you have nowhere to safely fall afterward? I bring my father great shame. My mother loves me, but she is never home. There is always a village suffering in the mountains, you see.”
Sylvi cut a glance to the fireplace, feeling the heavy weight of her father’s gaze on her. His hard look, while unsurprising in the wake of her one-way conversation with Elias, sent a chill down her spine.
“I realize my openness is strange, and oftentimes, it is obnoxious.” She curled her fingers around her sprout, relishing in the soft pulse of her magic along the plant. “But I will continue to be this way for I know of no other way to be.”
Elias watched her in that unnerving manner of his, and she was unsure what to do in his continued quiet.
If he refused to engage with her, this whole marriage enterprise was largely worthless.
She did not wish to eventually marry someone who could not tolerate her personality or answer her questions.
“I suppose I’ll—oh!” Sylvi flinched at the abrupt movement of his hand through the bars. “What is it?”
Elias reached for the sprout, the two claws on his hand glinting in the firelight.
“Do you want this?” When he continued trying to swipe the sprout, she laughed. “Well, all right then. Here you are.”
With amusement twisting her lips, she slipped the sprout into Elias’s palm.
The bright green of the sprout leeched away, and the stem curled into itself, thinning and twisting as it shriveled. Elias never looked away, never faltered in his search of her face, while the plant died before them, hanging limp along his fingers.
Death.
Her brow pinched in thought. Not only did Elias have to bear the burden of his curse, but he also carried the weight of significant shame for his magic. How could one boy suffer so much?
She lifted her hands, stopping just short of touching his. “May I, Elias?”
Instead of tapping, Elias slowly nodded. She cupped her hands around his, unperturbed by the sharp edge of his claws grazing her skin. The crushed sprout, draped limply between his fingers, called out for her magic, and she gave it.
“Life and death are linked,” she explained.
“A cycle. That’s why I have to start with something small.
My mother said if I tried to revive an entire rose bush this young, it would drain me utterly.
If I practice, I will be able to bring a whole garden back one day when I’m older.
But now? It’s not the right time to try.
I’ll die if I do.” Sylvi uncovered Elias’s palm, and the sprout now sat whole and new.
“I work in life, and you in death. I work in seed, and you in bone. I think we could be a good match, you and I. What do you think?”
Elias stared at the sprout in his hand before meeting her gaze with a look so profoundly sad in its surprise and earnestness that it broke her heart.
Then, without breaking eye contact, Elias—the Demon of Espa Brus—tapped the floor twice.