Chapter 3
Elorie
Gods, it’s freezing this morning. Bitter cold air stings my lungs with every inhale. Snow drifts off the rooftops, catching in my mouth as I take in a deep breath. The snowy path to the market is packed solid from people trudging to the square, creating a slick sheet of slush beneath my feet.
I pull my cloak tight around my freezing cheeks.
The icy morning would be miserable if I wasn’t thankful that the cold is helping me fight through my exhaustion. After seeing the rebel through the window last night, sleep was scarce. By daybreak, I almost convinced myself that I’d imagined them and their white winter cloak.
Maybe I did.
Last night’s storm was brutal. I can’t imagine anyone wandering through it, human or Fae. And even if they did brave it, why would a rebel choose the path directly through the village?
Besides, there are no whispers this morning to indicate anyone else saw a rebel stalking through the streets. Nothing is out of place.
Maybe my worries are getting the better of me after my conversation with Callum.
Regardless, I search for him the second I step into the square, determined to ask him if he’s heard anything among the Guard. Villagers bustle about, setting up their tables. There’s a thin selection today, given the storm, but people are here, nonetheless. Too many of us are desperate this year.
Sick.
Starving.
We’re all in need of trade and desperate for food and tonics.
That and blades, like the ones on the sled behind me that I’ve trudged through the snow. Humans might not be hunting in the dead of winter when the animals have moved deeper into the forest, but the guards are already eyeing my selection.
Their weapons from the Ley Court aren’t nearly as strong without magic to amplify them. Not like Father’s blades. Mined and crafted from the heart of Alyssium. Smelted from metals that rival those only found in Vaelier.
Or so I’ve heard.
Father’s blades are sturdy and heavy. If it weren’t for the snow, I wouldn’t have been able to tug today’s load by myself. I suppose the storm is a blessing in disguise as it relieves some of the weight tugging at my shoulders.
Father usually helps. But he’s still too sick to leave the house in his current state, so it’s just me today.
Tossing the rope to my feet, I wipe the sweat from the back of my neck. My toes are icy, so it hurts to bend them.
“Glad to see I’m not the only wild-minded human braving these elements.” A chipper voice comes from behind, and I spin to see Letia walking toward me with two steaming cups of tea.
She hands me one, tucking a golden-blonde lock of hair off her face. Her smile tilts, drawing out the sharp scar that cuts through her upper lip.
“Bless the Gods, I needed this.” I curl my frozen fingers around the cup and hold it below my chin, soaking up the warmth of the steam as it drifts over my cheeks. “Lavender.”
“Your favorite.” Letia winks, pulling her shoulders closer to her ears.
The double lining of fur on her cloak rustles in the breeze, while her braid does little to tie her wavy blonde hair back off her face. It whips around her tanned cheeks, which, paired with the dark circles around her eyes, draw out the sapphire brightness in them.
Letia’s mother, Mabel, calls her a sunbeam. A ray of light almost bright enough to warm this bitterly cold island. When Letia smiles, I understand it because she practically glows.
Except lately, even my best friend’s energy is running low. She’s thinner. Exhaustion darkens the skin under her eyes. We’re all tired.
“You know if you need a blade, I’ll give you one without bribes.” I smirk, taking a sip of tea.
Letia laughs. “I know. Mother sent me with tea to thank you for the salmon you dropped off for her this morning.”
“A favor for a favor. It never ends between us.”
“Because you and your father are family, Elorie.” Her smile is tight. “We don’t do favors to gain something in return; it’s because we care. Gods forbid either of us end up desperate and scrabbling for leftovers.”
Quarreling has become more frequent as food and dry firewood become scarcer. What little we have must be rationed, and when the recent shipment of grain from the Ley Court was half what we normally get, fear of starvation became a bigger worry than freezing.
My throat dries, so I take a sip of scalding tea. It does little to soothe my nerves and burns my tongue.
“Have you seen Callum?” I ask, scanning the square again, noticing there’s not a guard in sight. It’s uncommon when they’ve been hovering lately.
Letia leans in, smiling. “You mean, have I seen him since he walked you to your door last night?”
“Spy.” I nudge her, and she laughs. “Besides, how did you see anything when you were noticeably absent when Mabel invited me in this morning?”
Her cheeks warm, her gaze drifting. “I was leaving as you got home. I spent the night with Benjamin.”
“Finally.”
Letia shakes her head. “Not like that. He was a perfect gentleman.”
“You shared his bed and still turned the man down?” I sip my tea, which is already cooling.
“Your self-restraint is admirable, Letia, but it wouldn’t hurt to let go every once in a while.
From what I’ve heard, Benjamin’s talents with his hands extend beyond his affinity with a bow.
You’d be doing yourself a favor by bedding him.
Unless you’re still hung up on that mysterious guard who rescued you. ”
A bright pink blush colors her cheeks. “He wasn’t a guard.”
“The only Fae on Alyssium are guards or prisoners. And a prisoner wouldn’t have been wandering the shore when you slipped and fell in.”
Nearly a year ago, Letia almost drowned while fishing at the shore but was saved by a mysterious stranger she’s yet to cross paths with again.
Her nose scrunches. “Maybe not, but he wasn’t wearing Crown armor, and I haven’t seen him since.”
“Or you’re just not remembering him correctly after getting all that seawater in your chest.”
“Maybe you’re right.” She sighs. “Even the Fae aren’t that beautiful.”
My eyebrows lift, trying to imagine anything more beautiful than the Fae, when two guards round the corner into the square. Polished skin. Eyes that shine brighter than stars. A mask of beauty that disguises how lethal they are.
Something more beautiful can’t exist.
“He doesn’t matter.” Letia swallows the final sip of her tea, rolling her shoulders back. “Benjamin asked Mother’s permission a few days ago, so that’s settled.”
“Permission. As in…?” My eyes widen. “When did the two of you start talking marriage? You haven’t even bedded him.”
“Is it wrong to want one thing to be traditional?”
“Pick something else to make traditional, Letia. I beg you. Wear blue to wed him, sprinkle leaves on your first hearth. Honor any other tradition but that one.”
“Why not this one?”
“What if he’s terrible and fumbling all over you?”
“You just said the rumors state otherwise.”
“Rumors could be wrong. To be disappointed with someone warming your bed for a night is one thing, but until you reach the After… May Sarrow bless you for that travesty.”
“I love him.” Her blue eyes dim, not matching her declaration.
I’ve never understood the argument that love conquers all. Then again, I’ve never cared about a man past the point of sharing his bed for the night. It’s simpler this way. Love hurts badly enough when it’s family and friends you’re forced to watch die. Why choose more pain voluntarily?
“I suppose if you love him—” I shrug.
She frowns, glancing away. “He’s kind. And his family is good to my sisters.”
After her father died of sickness a few years ago, Mabel has struggled to care for Letia and her three siblings. Agreeing to wed Benjamin would ease the burden, but it breaks my heart knowing my best friend is sacrificing true love for survival.
I may not be searching for love, but I know she is.
“Then marry him.” I swallow any doubt for her sake. “And I’ll wish you nothing but the best.”
Letia grabs my wrist and squeezes. “I know.”
Her gaze sparkles with the kind of hope I wish I still felt. The kind that once made me wish humans had mates like the Fae do. Not because I want to fall in love, but because I wonder what it would mean to have a true counterpart. To have a bond that was unbreakable.
It’s difficult to imagine with the wandering eyes of the men in this village.
“Callum, thank the Gods you’ve come to save me from her.” Letia glances over my shoulder, and I turn to see Callum approaching in his polished Crown’s Guard armor.
A knot catches in my throat as the corner of his mouth lifts in a beautiful smirk. There was a time I tried to swallow my feelings for him, knowing he’d never reciprocate them. But the tightness in my chest when his smile widens makes my heart race.
“I can’t leave you alone for a heartbeat.” He stops in front of me.
“Are you referring to one of your heartbeats or one of mine?”
Callum once told me human heartbeats are as quick as the flutter of hummingbird wings in comparison to a Fae’s. It’s how Fae are immortal when they have enough magic to sustain them.
“You’re trouble no matter how we measure it.” Callum grins, and my breath catches.
Letia smiles, knocking my elbow with hers ever so slightly. She’s well aware of my crush, and I have no doubt she’ll tease me endlessly about how red my cheeks are the next time we’re alone. Thankfully, Callum doesn’t seem to notice.
“I need to help my sister set up for the market.” Letia takes a step back, eyeing her family as they enter the square. “I’ll find you later.”
“If you aren’t too busy with Benjamin.” I smile as she starts to walk away. “Think about what I said. Rumors are just that until confirmed.”
Letia rolls her eyes, turning her back on me.
“Do I want to know what rumors you’re going on about?” Callum asks.
“Probably not.”
He follows me as I unwrap the first bundle of blades, helping me set them on the wooden table. “Laef isn’t coming today?”