Chapter 18
Elodie
I wake slowly, blinking at the unfamiliar surroundings.
I feel a surge of panic before the night before comes back to me in pieces.
Kael, Mara… Rowan. I sit up carefully, the blanket slipping from my shoulders.
I breathe in the faint smell of fresh bread.
My silk dress hangs over the chair, wrinkled and out of place, but next to it is a pile of clean clothes.
Staying in bed seems like a much better idea than facing the world.
Is Kael still gone? Where is Rowan? More importantly, why do I even care?
The image of his face in pure anger flashes through my mind.
Asshole.
I blow out a breath, standing to my feet and changing into the clothes I assume Mara left for me. Heading downstairs to thank her, I’m cut short by a soft voice.
“Elodie, how are you this morning?” Bryn says, walking out of her room, shutting her door behind her. “My mother said it was a rough night.” Her brother has all but abandoned her, and she’s asking me if I’m okay?
This family is something else.
“I’m okay, thank you, Bryn, for last night.
How are you doing this morning, more importantly?
” I watch her expression as she bites back a response, her lip wobbling.
“He will be okay, Bryn. I can fix it.” These promises are going to bite me in the ass.
She doesn’t respond, only smiling back at me, but I catch the brief look of pain on her face.
We walk together towards the smell of home-cooked food, entering the kitchen.
“Hi girls, breakfast is ready,” Mara calls over her shoulder. Turning only to fill a cup of coffee on the table before returning to her cooking. Wait. Coffee?
“Oh my god. Is that coffee? You have it here?” I’m locked into a trance, staring at the mug in front of me. They both give me a concerned look before smiling at each other.
“You’ve been here how long now?” Bryn says. “And you haven’t had a single coffee?”
“Well… no. I guess I just assumed you didn’t have it. Which is stupid because it’s not like it’s overly different to back home. Other than the runes, of course…the knights… magic gates to other—” I cut myself off, looking up at them both before laughing to myself. “I guess it is different.”
Bryn laughs softly,
“Maybe a little.” I slide into the chair, wrapping my hands around the mug she’s poured for me. The first sip makes me groan aloud. Actual coffee, strong and real.
“I could cry,” I say to the room. They shake their heads at me, smiling to themselves. I turn to look at Mara, who is lost in thought and gazing fixedly at the window in front of her. My mind wanders back to Kael and the promise I made to her last night.
I will get your son back
If it were only that easy, but I swear to myself that I’ll try. I have to try not only to get myself back home but also to fix this broken family. The door opens behind us, no knock, just the soft sound of the hinges opening.
I know who it is before he even speaks.
His presence causes the air to thicken.
“Good morning,” Rowan says softly, almost a whisper. His voice is rough, as if he hasn’t slept properly, or at all.
“Morning,” Mara and Bryn say in unison. She grabs a plate of food for Rowan and passes him a drink as he takes a seat at the table.
“You’re early,” Mara says to him.
“Just wanted to make sure we had an early start,” he says. I feel his eyes burning a hole through me, but I’m not ready to look at him yet. I want to enjoy my coffee first.
“You haven’t slept, have you?” Mara comments, less of a question and more of an observation.
That makes me look at him. She’s right, he looks rough, his hair a mess, eyes red.
And I hate myself for it, but he looks just as dangerous as he always does, a man cut from stone.
Not that I would admit that to him, but it’s true all the same.
“I was busy.” Is all he says back, his eyes remaining on the plate in front of him.
“What’s this I hear about you not giving Elodie any coffee?” Mara juts her head at him, hand on her hip. I smile to myself, dipping my head down as I meet Rowan’s eyes briefly.
“I wasn’t aware she liked it,” he says, his attention fixed on me. I scoff at the way he talks about me as if I’m not sitting next to him.
“She is right here,” I speak aloud, the words leaving my mouth before I even realise I’ve said them. He turns to me, his eyes meeting mine, and I feel a shift in the room. “And you never asked me if I’d like one,” I say, darting my eyes away from his stare. He narrows his eyes at me.
“I wasn’t aware I needed to ask,” he says mildly. I fold my arms, shaking my head in irritation.
“You seem to make a lot of decisions on my behalf.”
Everyone goes still.
Rowan’s mouth flattens into a hard line.
“That was not my intention.”
“No, your intentions were very clear.”
“You’re still angry.”
“No, I actually love being told how shit I am at my job. It makes me feel great.”
“Elodie. I was angry, but not at you.”
“Well, it felt like you were.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“It didn’t feel like it.” His gaze sharpens as he swallows thickly. We both blink out of our argument and turn to the two faces, currently pretending not to listen.
“We should return to the castle,” Rowan says aloud. I look to Mara, her eyes glossy. I nod at Rowan and stand from my chair.
“Thank you both so much for having me. I’m sorry. Breakfast was lovely,” I say, moving to Bryn to give her a small hug. Mara stands from her chair, her hand on her chest. She gives me a pained smile, and I lean in to give her a hug. She holds me tightly before tapping me on the back.
“Look after yourself.” I don’t respond, only nodding my head with a smile before giving her a wave and following Rowan out of the kitchen. We exit the house and I turn back to glance at the home, waving at Mara in her doorway.
“Get that girl her coffee, Rowan,” Mara calls, pointing her finger at him. He shakes his head, but gives her a small wave. On the bright side, there’s two horses. I head to the horse that got me here and grab the rein ready to mount.
“Would you like me to help?” Rowan says.
“No, I’m good,” I respond, throwing my leg over and mounting the horse. I sit high on the saddle and give him a small, satisfied smile. He dips his head once, acknowledging my obvious display of independence. A small smile tugs at his mouth, but it’s gone before I can even really see it.
“Well, shall we get moving? I have to return to the glasshouse after all.” I don’t mean to sound bitter, not really, but it comes out that way.
“Elodie, I —” his voice breaks, but I cut him off, kicking my feet into the side of the horse and setting off, if I got here on my own. I can get back on my own.
“Nothing. You have given me nothing! What do you need from me?” I wave at the soil so void of life.
The dead plants hanging next to it have more of a chance of resurrecting than I do of growing this stupid plant.
I kneel, placing a hand on the soil, closing my eyes.
It won’t do anything, I know that, but I have always liked to pretend the plants can hear me, like we can communicate.
“Look, we need to work together here. I need to find my way home, and I also need to bring a friend back.” Rubbing my palms into my face, I fall back onto the floor. A frustrated groan escapes me as footsteps behind make me shut up. I tilt my head back on the floor, my eyes landing on Rowan.
“I know that magic and runes are new to you, but we don’t have talking plants here,” he says with a smirk.
“I prefer it when you’re all gloom and doom. The smirk doesn’t suit you,” I say, pulling myself off the floor and wiping the dirt off my legs. It’s a complete lie, of course.
The smirk makes him absolutely irresistible.
He knows it, I’m sure.
“That’s funny. Most people prefer me as less of the terrifying High Warden.”
“You’re not terrifying.”
“That’s because you haven’t had to see me be the High Warden, Hawthorne.” He smirks again, and I roll my eyes at his obvious teasing.
“Am I allowed to use that free pass I’m still owed to get you to leave me alone?” I turn away from him now, returning my attention to the soil.
“You can’t hate me forever, Hawthorne.” He shuffles over to the workbench. “Besides, are you sure you want to make me leave you alone when I brought you coffee?” he says.
“You brought me coffee?” I ask, surprised.
“I did,” he replies. I narrow my eyes at him, unsure if this is his way of apologising or just calling a truce.
“Fine. You can stay.” He winks at me, handing over the coffee, struggling to hide the smile that erupts as my senses are filled with the smell of it.
“Thank you,” I say begrudgingly, taking a sip.
I know Mara had joked about him getting me some, but normally he was too busy with his duties.
In fact, he rarely visited me here at the glasshouse, just left Thomas to monitor me.
Speaking of, “Where is Thomas?”
“Thomas has been reassigned.”
“Reassigned? What does that mean?”
“It means he will no longer be monitoring you here in the glasshouse,” he states, his gaze wandering over the empty pots of soil.
“Oh. So I’m here alone now?”
“No.”
“No?” I repeat. “Well, who is watching me now?”
“I am.”
I groan aloud, letting my head fall backward as I take a seat at the workbench.
“Great. That’s great,” I say, sipping my coffee slowly and trying to decide if I feel this way because I’m still annoyed at him or it’s because I don’t trust myself around him.
The silence lingers between us. By the time the coffee cools in my hands, nearly an hour has passed.
And I think I might actually miss Thomas.
Sure, he cared more about his duty than helping me.
But he didn’t interrupt me, left me to work, and only really got in the way if it was urgent.
Rowan is the opposite. Instead of staying outside the glasshouse like Thomas, he is sitting watching me at the workbench.
His stare is piercing, and I feel more exposed than I ever have.
“You know, Thomas used to just sit outside and watch the day pass by,” I say, pressing into the soil and wiping my brow. Rowan doesn’t answer straight away, but I feel his gaze shift away from me.
“That’s because Thomas was told not to be inside the glasshouse with you,” he says. I pause my planting briefly, turning to face him.
“But you’re in the glasshouse.”
“I am, yes. But I don’t take orders from others.”
“Um, do you know who the king is?”
“My duty is to him. That is not the same.”
I frown, turning the words over.
“It sounds very much the same to me."
“It’s not,” he says, fiddling with something on the workbench, the sound of a knife on wood splintering in my ear.
Turning away so he can’t see, I roll my eyes and go back to trying to change the soil acidity.
Lifting all the equipment into my arms, I stand.
I almost trip over myself before a strong hand grips my waist to steady me.
We are both frozen, caught in a silent battle of wills.
He grabs the tools from my hand, setting them down on the workbench before returning to whatever it was he was doing.
“This is the third seed now. I have only one attempt after this,” I say panic threading through my voice.
There is no use in trying to hide it.
“And since you have no faith in me saving ‘shit’, I’d be worried if I were you.” Rowan takes a slow and deliberate breath, standing over me.
“That’s not what I said. "
“It’s exactly what you said, actually."
“It’s not what I meant."
“What did you mean?”
“I blamed you for being my distraction, and that was wrong, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy you being my distraction.” His words cause me to still.
“You don’t strike me as the type of person who is easily distracted,” I say. He leans into me, filling all my space.
“I’m not,” he says, his voice rough. “But you, Elodie, appear to have found a weakness.” His words cause heat to pool in my cheeks.
I feel my breath hitch as I find myself lost for words.
My emotions feel all over the place.
I’m both nervous and elated at the same time.
This tormented knight has found in me something he’s trained himself to never have.
A weakness. His face moves closer, his expression tortured, clearly wanting but holding back.
My body reacts on impulse as my lips brush his, barely a whisper of air between us.
His moan rumbles through my body as his hand slides down, finding the gap at my hip where my overalls are too big.
The sudden heat of his palm against my bare skin causes my breath to hitch.
His hand lingers, tracing the line of my hipbone as his fingers slowly graze over my nerves.
But before I’m able to give in, a loud knock sounds on the glass.
I pull away, my heart pounding as I step back, breaking the fragile line between us we had almost completely shattered.
Rowan doesn’t move.
Not even an inch.
He stays exactly where he is, unshaken with a fire in his eyes.
I turn to the knight who is standing outside, clearly waiting for Rowan to leave. Rowan’s gaze doesn’t leave mine, the silence stretching thick and charged.
“That was your choice, not mine. Remember that,” he says, his voice lower than normal. When the knight knocks once more on the glass, Rowan turns and gives him a small nod before heading out of the glasshouse, not even a glance back at me.