37 #2
“You didn’t have to.” Kora thanked him as she took the small bottle, securing it in the satchel attached to her hip.
“Someone needs to spend my money,” Aerion joked, but Aryn blinked and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I need to see my father for the ceremony. Aryn can show you around. Remember, keep your hood up. Rumours are still circling, and we can’t risk it.
” Aerion cast a strange look at Aryn before weaving into the crowd, his bouncy silver curls disappearing between brightly coloured shadows.
“There’s something strange between you two.” Kora nudged Aryn with her elbow, breaking his trance from staring after Aerion.
With a sigh, Aryn tugged her along, away from the direction Aerion disappeared into. “We have a complicated history. I’d rather not get into it. Let’s focus on today.”
“Aryn, that merchant . . . the brand . . . I . . .”
Aryn spun, hands landing on Kora’s shoulders in the middle of a constantly revolving crowd.
He leaned in close. Heat consumed her, sticky and palpable from the crowd brushing against her, setting her nerves afire.
Sunrays warmed her hands and cheeks as the sun glared brighter than it ever had through the Mist.
“Don’t. Don’t do this to yourself. You had no idea.
I know you’ll never forget—I will never forget.
I knew who they were, I knew they were innocent.
I told myself the exiles had changed, that they were truly attacking us.
I still don’t know for sure. Doran’s intentions were deadly to me.
We can only work forward for a better world for those who are here now.
What happened in the desert is my burden to bear, not yours. ”
Kora choked at Aryn’s despair breaking through. His own guilt tearing at him. There’d been so many. So many dead. And Aryn had to play the part, he had to survive to ensure the world survived.
“To new beginnings,” Kora murmured, glancing to the bronze Hallow’s Day decorations.
Banners, balloons, ribbons, and confetti.
Unlike the dazzling colours of the city, Hallow’s Day was all autumnal, with a keen focus on brass, bronze and copper.
Aryn nodded once, turning back to guide her through the market.
“I’m glad to be out of the castle, I was getting a bit of cabin fever in there.” Kora changed the subject but Aryn remained quiet.
Aryn showed Kora various stalls, introducing her to various drinks and foods from Galen’s culture.
They were all decadent, rich, and flavourful.
Nothing like back at home. Stuffed pheasants marinated in star anise and plum sauce.
Vegetable wraps crammed full of the softest, creamiest rice, and mouth-watering stews with so much spice Kora had nearly dived for the ocean to calm the raging heat inside.
They even stopped at an orange-toned remedy stall, hosting a swath of potions, herbs, and miniature healing kits.
“That’s rather advanced.” Kora turned the kit over, marvelling at how so many things were packed into the small woven satchel.
“Aye. Why wait for a healer, when ye can do it yerself?” The merchant laughed, and waggled his bushy eyebrows as he gestured to an aged parchment with prices listed on it.
“Galenite history claims healers originated in Otrovia. Their home lost within the marshlands.” Aryn picked up a bottle of herbs and handed the merchant a few silver bits.
“They expanded out across the islands, eager to share with the world what they’d discovered, to heal all those who ailed. But the empire exploited it.”
“Nah,” the merchant scoffed, pot belly bouncing the stall table as he leaned forward.
His beady eyes glinted and Kora pulled her cloak closer, wondering if he’d been one of the few who’d seen her before.
Who’d screamed in terror. “I heard it was the witches. They invented healin’, and some of them left their land and started breedin’ with humans.
That’s why the healers are so good at what they do. ”
“Perhaps,” Aryn shrugged. “We’ll never know. The empire has wiped our history away.” The merchant spat on the floor in response, grumbling about Talmon and their wicked ways.
As they walked away from the stall, Aryn handed her the glass bottle of herbs. Kora’s lips parted in surprise as he placed it in her hands.
“For you. Mix it with boiling water, wait for the herbs to dissolve, and drink it only at night. It’s a magtrate solution, but this herb is the best kind.” Aryn carried on walking like it was no big deal, and Kora pocketed the herbs alongside her bottle of rum, surprised at the sudden gift.
“Thank you, but what does magtrate do?”
“It’s used for all sorts of things—headaches, insomnia, and concussions.
Sometimes to dampen magic if potent enough.
But with this specific strain of herb, it should help your mind.
Settle it and keep the corruption at bay.
” Aryn spoke with such formality, like he was destined to be a healer and not an archer.
Another hour passed, until Kora felt dizzy with excitement and ready to sit down.
Aryn followed her to a shop with outdoor seating forged of painted white iron.
A server appeared, offering a cup of coffee and a savoury pastry.
Kora sat back, tilting her head to the sun through the Mist, appreciating the subtle warmth it offered.
It definitely seemed brighter, and she rubbed her eyes, wondering if she was imagining the Mist thinning.
“Not a people person?” Skylar’s shadow blocked the sun. Dressed in a satin gown flowing from her shoulders to her shins, like dripping chocolate. Silver lace looped around her torso, and her long hair had been half pinned up, cascading around her slender face.
“I’ve never been one for festivities,” Kora spoke cautiously.
Skylar had assured her she’d said her final farewell to Kordelia, accepting what was happening in her mind was dangerous and best left alone. Despite participating in training Kora daily, overseeing her spars with Aryn, Skylar had still been distant, her tone uneven.
She knew Skylar saw the past whenever she glimpsed Kora’s face.
A friendship once forged. Aryn had mentioned Skylar had seen them as best friends.
And she’d clearly mourned fiercely for Kordelia.
Kora wondered what their friendship had been like, whether they’d frolicked in the Aspen Glade and swapped dresses—or whatever female friends did.
She wouldn’t know. Bree had been her only female friend, and that’d been a disaster.
“I’ve brought you a peace offering.” Skylar revealed a thick book, with a black clasp binding the pages together.
She placed it down on the wrought iron table and stepped back, looking as awkward as Kora felt.
By her side, Cassidy appeared, her red lips in a small smile.
She was dressed in the same yellow and brown attire, her ringlets bound beneath her tricorne hat.
Kora inspected the book and her brows flew up into her hairline. “A fiction novel?”
Skylar shrugged, staring anywhere but at Kora. “It’s a collection of Galen’s best short stories.”
Why was everyone giving her gifts?
Kora unbuckled the clasp, flicking through the pages with interest. “Thanks, but don’t you hate me?”
Cassidy’s smile grew, but it quickly disappeared, her cheeks heating with something that looked awfully like shame. Her fingers brushed lightly over the lasso attached to her hip, and the phantom feeling of it wrapped around Kora’s body burned her arms.
“Just a peace offering, K.C. We’re not going to be braiding each other’s hair and skipping into the sunset.” Skylar raised her palms. “It’s time to move forward. For the islands.” Her palms gestured to everyone around them and Kora nodded. That, they both could agree on.
“Your father will be waiting,” Cassidy urged, and both females disappeared into the crowd in Aerion’s direction without another word.
From the edge of the promenade, where a crowd was growing, a creature caught Kora’s attention.
The flap of wings soaring across the rooftops, dark in nature, with thick black talons, but moving so fast she barely glimpsed it before it faded into the Mist.
“That was weird,” Kora murmured as she sipped more coffee. Compared to the dirt back home, it was luxurious, the smooth flavour rolling down her throat. Why did everything in Galen taste so damn good?
“Skylar can blow hot and cold. She’s the sternest of the siblings.
She’s quite a lot like you, actually,” Aryn replied.
“Before you get mad, you both have the same ambition. Except here, females aren’t punished for pursuing careers.
Skylar is a general and a princess, Cassidy is a lord.
You were once a lady of the court, but . . . you were also admiral.”
Her heart thudded.
Her dream. Her desire. Everything she’d spent a decade working for.
It’d been hers before. At such a young age.
“Who’s admiral now?” Kora couldn’t resist the question. Aryn smiled in return.
“Skylar took up both posts after the Mist. I’m sure you could talk her into sharing.”
“Oh, good.” Kora sat back. “That’ll be a fun conversation.”
“Just pretend you’re talking to yourself,” Aryn commented. Kora lightly swatted him, and they both laughed as she pocketed her next gift, adding it to her filling satchel as her heart slowly mended.