Chapter 6
Eldric
T hey finished dinner in amicable silence, settling on their feet touching beneath the table so they could eat in peace. As he sipped the tea she prepared for him, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. He loathed that such pain resolved with a simple touch. That his body was no longer his own. That they needed each other—a craving that must be satisfied. He glowered down at the mug, not wanting to look at her.
“You want to talk about it,” she said. He could feel her observations from over her own glass and nodded. She hesitated, biting her lip as rose dusted her face, before motioning for him to continue.
He breathed deep, not knowing where to start but setting his cup down anyways. The muscles of her leg tensed beneath his foot, as if she were preparing to run, though he didn’t know if either of them would get very far if the pain from earlier was any indication of what was in store for them .
“I don’t go around just kissing people,” he finally said, voice flat.
“We did what we had to; we shouldn’t have to again.”
“I don’t want to play pretend couple.”
“Neither do I.”
“How did we even get here.” He groaned into his hands. “Thought I’d get married because I wanted to, not because I had to.”
Lorali’s voice was even, but he saw how her finger fidgeted with the divots and grooves of her mug, the same way she had yesterday when talking about how she thought she had been a distraction. “Do you regret it?”
This piqued his interest, and he thought for a moment before responding.
“No, I don’t. I do prefer being alive very much to the alternative.”
“If you resent me, it’s okay,” she said, her voice incredibly small. Not that of the firm woman who had stood before a god just that morning with such confidence. “You didn’t choose this; I chose it for you. I understand. I don’t blame you.”
His brows knit together as he watched her. She didn’t sound very okay with the thought at all, as if she were preparing for the worst. A rejection she believed would surely come, but he knew never would. He didn’t like it. Reaching across the table, he brushed his hand against hers, a gentle connection between them. Her grey eyes shot to where their hands met, every muscle tensed as she waited for his next move. She looked as if she really might run, as if she feared his rejection more than anything.
“I don’t resent you.” He searched her eyes, sincerity dripping from every word. “I’m glad to be alive. You saved me, Lorali Wynmar, and for that I thank you.”
He could have sworn he saw silver line her eyes for a moment before she blinked it away, shaking her head with a small smile.
“What a relief. I thought our kiss was so awful that you were having doubts.” The joke sounded choked coming from her throat, as if she were fighting back tears. But that spark of fire was back in her eyes. He smirked, taking the bait to play their little game of banter. In general, Eldric hated to see people upset or hurt. But to see the way someone so selfless wore her distress like it was deserved? It settled so poorly within his soul that Eldric knew he’d do anything to prevent her from looking that way ever again.
“Just the opposite. It made me think that whoever gets to marry you for real one day will be a lucky man.”
“That’s a relief,” she chuckled, a blush spreading across her face that let him know all was okay, and he settled back into his seat once more .
“I mean it, Lorali. Thank you.”
She nodded at his somber tone.
“Though you don’t want to ‘play pretend couple,’ as you put it, I think we can at least be good partners until our time is up.”
He hummed in agreement. It would be best if they got along—they were well and truly stuck with each other now. They may as well get along.
“I think I’d like that.” He smiled. “A year is a long time to not become friends with someone like you.”
That bright smile snuck across her face before she realized it and she raised her mug toward him. “To friendship, then.”
His smile matched her own as he clinked their glasses together.
“To friendship.”
***
Curled up on opposite ends of the couch, the pair talked long into the night, learning little bits about each other. Their feet touching, they kept that connection going—both somewhat afraid that the bounding pain would return if they broke contact. He learned that Lorali had a system for everything, and it was best if he didn’t touch it. Or else. She learned that prior to their current arrangement, Eldric lived in an old house inherited by his friend. He wouldn’t speak further on it and, to his relief, Lorali didn’t push.
He watched as she drifted off into slumber, lulled to sleep by the warm fire that was now nothing more than ash and embers. When her breathing slowed and chill crept back into the air, he covered her in one of the countless blankets she had given him to sleep with. Eldric became lost in the crackling fire that died into glowing embers. His mind wandered to the gallows, the previous night, their binding. Seeing Daeson and his sister at their house and explaining it all, learning Daeson had been there with a plan and was just moments away from stopping everything but was too late, unable to beat Lorali’s quick wit. Daeson’s words clung to him like static long after he returned to Lorali’s home. Playing pretend —that had been what he’d called it. Though Eldric wasn’t thrilled with the arrangement, at this moment he knew that he’d gladly take it over death.
It hadn’t hit him, then, how close he’d come to dying. It hadn’t hit him until now, sitting in a warm house with a full stomach, a new friend, and a hope for tomorrow. That was something he hadn’t experienced in a long while. Tilting his head back, he looked up to the wood beam ceiling and felt silent tears trail into his hair as he realized how truly and utterly thankful he felt to be alive in this moment.
And for the first time in a long time, he prayed. Not to Ostara or even Athanasios or any of their children. But to the high cleric that lay on the other end of the couch sound asleep, unaware of just how completely she had saved him.