Chapter 26
A week passes, and I’m no closer to enhancing my sword with magic.
Ether joins me in my room at dusk every night to calm my insignia and stimulate the sleeping energy in my eluviam.
Beyond making it easier to be without her, nothing she’s doing seems to be working to help me improve my magical affinity.
Each morning, I wake feeling a little less motivated to continue like this.
Even with Ronan’s daily encouragement and our sparring in the mornings, without my sight, everything seems impossible.
I spread my arms over my mattress and cringe.
The sheets are rough. Tiny balls of fabric clinging to the duvet scratch against my skin.
I’ve begun to dread sleeping in this bed.
Even after having the sheets changed numerous times, it still feels like the material is trying to eat me alive.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so sensitive to my bedding.
Other things, like taste and smell, are heightened as well.
Certain foods are saltier, and certain scents are more pungent than I remember.
Will I be stuck this way forever? Living in a world without light? It’s already been a week, and I’ve yet to see anything other than Ether’s eluviam.
She has become my whole world.
I sigh and reach across my chest to massage my left bicep with my thumb.
The muscle is still how I remember it—not any bigger than my right arm—but the energy that tickles its way to my fingertips has turned into a comforting sensation.
I view it less as a burden of power and more a curiosity to explore.
Ether had mentioned dark magic, but I’ve since had plenty of time to get acquainted with the foreign energy growing in my limb. What makes magic inherently dark ? If it is something that ruins our bodies and minds, it must be inherently evil.
It doesn’t feel negative, though. Powerful, yes. Dangerous, no.
Power cannot always equate evil, can it?
When in the wrong hands , it can , I remind myself.
Prejudice and oppression against Aldorin began one thousand years ago, and each king continues the previous ruler’s legacy, adding a new layer of discrimination and cruelty with his ascension.
King Azriel has, predictably, fallen in line with this pattern.
I, however, will not.
I drop my arm and twist under the covers, finding a new spot of cold to conquer. The swelling heat of the early morning hours will come soon, and I want to savor the refreshing—albeit itchy—silk.
A polite knock sounds on the door of my chambers. It’s the one knock I’m able to tell apart from the rest, thanks to the soft scraping of Bernadette’s knuckles as they kiss the wood.
“Rami, your breakfast is ready for you in the dining room. How are you feeling this morning?” Her voice is a little muffled behind the grand wooden door, but I hear her clearer now after losing my sight. Her words are practiced, repeating each morning.
With a deep breath in, I stretch my arms to the ceiling. “I’ve been better, but at least I’m not dead,” I say mid-yawn. Bernadette makes a small noise from behind the door. I’m not sure if it’s a sniffle or a note of surprise, but she’s gone too soon for me to think too much about it.
Since I lost my sight, I’ve been awarded a lot of time. And space. My chambermaids are as unsure of how to care for me as I am. Even Ether is elusive, appearing only for our morning meal and our evening training. Ronan visits me to wash my feet before I sleep.
Our progress has slowed, the changing weather a constant reminder of the time we have left.
Two months.
I roll my tongue over my bottom row of teeth and allow my thoughts to seethe about the hopelessness of my situation. How can I possibly defeat a dragon while blind?
Will the kingdom accept a sightless crown prince? An unseeing future king?
Will I be cast aside, thrown into peasanthood? It would be easy, considering no one knows of my existence... Nobody would acknowledge my absence, would they?
The king could easily elevate somebody with more military experience… Like Ronan. Or any other soldier who proves himself worthy. Azriel knows I’m blind too. Any smart man would demand my disqualification. So why does my father insist I fight the dragon?
The sound of the door scraping along the ground pulls me from my thoughts. Over the week, I’ve learned to differentiate between Ether’s presence, the ghostlike heel clicks of silent chambermaids, and Ronan’s satchel of radiating elixirs.
When the light, pinched waves of energy branch around the room, I swivel from the bed.
“I’m here to help you get dressed.” Ronan speaks with a tightness. “Bernadette requested that I help you today.”
She must have told him I’ve been struggling to get my clothes on, and how it would be inappropriate to have the maids assist me. It also explains why I’ve been late to our morning sparring sessions.
Heaving a sigh, I raise my arms in search of his hands.
He’s quick to grip my arm, and lifts me from the bed.
I stand, feeling the ground beneath me. I’ve had to relearn to trust it will always be there, which is something I never thought I’d have to do.
And the relief I feel when my feet settle against the floor tells me it’s clear I still have a long way to go.
“Ether insists you train with her today. Outside. But are you ready for that?” he asks, the sound of his steps moving away from me.
When I hear the click of my wardrobe opening, I release the breath I’d been holding.
He doesn’t often guide me as Ether does.
So when his hands leave mine, I combat the feeling of abandonment that reigns over my emotions.
I’ve mastered the feeling with Ether, but I’ve nearly lost the rhythm I once had with Ronan.
Without the ability to read his expressions and without an emotional tie like Ether’s and mine, we’ve become near strangers once again.
Ronan returns, his hand gently directing me.
I turn at his slight presses, loosening my arms and legs as he helps me with my tunic, trousers, socks, and boots.
His perfectionistic pats over my collarbone and down my arms tell me he’s trying to boost my confidence.
Unfortunately, my appearance is the least of my worries, ever since I learned how my face has changed.
But I appreciate his thoughtfulness nonetheless.
Maybe it’s because of the time I’ve spent with Ether, but an overwhelming impulse to thank him compels me to reach for him and pull him into a hug. At first, he stiffens in my embrace, but then he relaxes his shoulders and lifts his arms to pat my back.
“Damn them,” he whispers harshly, his voice breaking as he turns away.
It doesn’t take me long to understand he’s talking about the mages.
“His Majesty isn’t doing anything about it either.
Not even when you’re his son!” I sense him backing up, the magic in his elixirs growing faint.
He clears his throat as if remembering himself.
“Dark magic afflictions are difficult to navigate. How are you today?”
“The same. Though things are getting more and more frustrating without the ability to see.” I shrug and slide my hand into the pocket of my trousers, dropping my silver ring inside.
If Ronan sees my sleight of hand, he doesn’t say anything.
“Speaking of magic,” I continue, feeling around carefully until my thighs touch the curve of my mattress.
I sit down and cross my arms. “Tell me more about how Xavelor was able to use it. How was he able to maintain his strength without the consequences of using magic?”
The mattress sinks next to me as Ronan sits.
“Xavelor was a skilled swordsman and excelled at using magic, but he didn’t have an eluviam of his own.
He found a way around using magic instead of using it the way the mages did.
His methods took a toll on him, but I steadied him many times, often right before he succumbed to the dark’s allure.
In his worst moments, he wasn’t diplomatic.
In his world, it was kill or be killed. There had been no alternative.
But he valued me, I could tell. He trusted me to bring him back whenever he ventured too close to the edge. ”
Just as understanding blooms in my heart, bitterness covers it. Could Ronan miss serving my valiant brother? I’m sure utilizing his talents on the battlefield would be preferable to helping a blind prince into his trousers.
“I trust you too,” I say, even though the words grind out, awkward.
Ronan coughs. “Thank you, Ramiel. But that isn’t what I mea?—”
I clear my throat, and he falls silent. “Which is why I have something to tell you. It pertains to my magic and the lessons Ether has been giving me.” His quiet attentiveness spurs me on.
With a grunt, I weave my fingers together.
“From the moment I saw her again and gave her the tallup, something changed. We’ve become…
connected on a level that surpasses what’s normal.
I’m not sure how or why, but we’re working through it. That is to say…”
Rain begins to lightly pang against the outside walls, filling the silence. I’m grateful to the droplets, allowing me time to think of my phrasing.
“Don’t tell me you’ve… actually fallen for the elf,” Ronan says flatly.
I laugh. “On the contrary, I think you might find our situation rather humorous.”
His silence says otherwise.
I swallow. “We’ve become a mated pair, selected by Aldorin and blessed with the mark of elven mates. It’s what ties us together, and it’s what initially saved my life last week.”
The mattress expands as Ronan stands with a growl. “No, that’s not possible. And if it were…why didn’t you say anything before?”
“A lot has happened, and my focus has been divided. But I’ve told you now. So, in case anything strange happens between Ether and me, at least you’ll know the reason for it.”
“I’m impressed you’ve managed to keep it a secret this long,” he snaps. The hurt in his voice is barely concealed. “As far as I know, once mated, a pair is inseparable. Especially after they give in to the strongest of their desires.”
I try not to weigh my thoughts on his implication.
His words grow harsher as he continues, “This still doesn’t explain why Ether had to kiss you in order to save you. Or why you insist on having private meetings every night, in your bedchamber of all places. There’s more to the bond, isn’t there? You’re developing feelings for her.”
I’ve swallowed my heart, and it throbs in my throat before sinking slowly into its cavity.
Ether… kissed me?
The thought lodges in my throat. It’s raw. It’s real. It’s?—
Was she going to tell me about it?
My ears and cheeks burn with a hungry longing just thinking about how the first kiss of my nineteen years slipped past while I’d been unconscious. She must have done it after the klopse bit me, while I was still unconscious. How might I have reacted if I’d been awake?
More importantly…
How would her lips have tasted?
Devastation replaces the blood in my veins.
“Of course not,” I say shakily. “I know the danger we’d be in if we formed a real attachment to one another.”
I know being closer to her is better for our bond, better for our health.
Having her near is like being in an eternally warm room, with a window cracked just enough to let in the cool, subtle breeze of morning air.
But I suppose that isn’t real attachment.
Even if it feels like she and I have grown closer over the past week.
“Good,” he mutters. “The last thing we need is for you to get romantically involved and lose focus on what is important. You have too much at risk to afford that kind of relationship right now.” He sets a hand on my shoulder.
“Also, pining after an elf as a human is taboo. You know that much, I hope.”
“What do you know of romance?” I ask, standing. “Have you ever been kissed?”
“Do you need to ask?” he scoffs. “Of course I have, even recen?—”
Before he can finish, he’s choking on his words, and there’s a thud like he’s dropped to the ground.
I slowly bend down, searching for his body. When I find the curve of his spine, I give him a steady pat. “Are you alright?” I chuckle. “Guess it wasn’t a great memory?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” he grumbles through his gagging. Finally, he clears his throat. “And no, not a great memory. I’d like to burn it from my mind.”
Perhaps the talk of kissing has grossed him out. I wouldn’t blame him. Not every man wishes to have a woman in his life. Perhaps he’d shared a kiss with the barkeep at Pally’s. Maybe he didn’t like the taste of alcohol on her breath.
He nudges me with his arm again, and I take it.
“Forget I said anything,” he says. “Let’s go eat. We have a long day ahead of us.”