Chapter III.25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Two Days Before the Wedding, Continued
Miria tried to hold onto the vision, but her mind raced, and so did her heart. She snapped back to herself and didn’t know how long she’d stared into a bowl of bloodied water until Adaline slid a teacup her way and the fragrant scent broke her thought loop.
“I can make tea now, too. See?” Adaline’s smile was forced, and she sat next to Miria and guided her hand to the cup. “Drink and tell me how bad what you saw was. Your lips are dry, and your face is scaring me.”
Miria drank. She didn’t particularly want the tea, but Adaline had chosen a blend with the proper herbs to ground her. Was it luck or intuition?
“Rosmilda is creating another abomination,” she said finally. “When it’s ready, your family’s guards will follow it through the woods. It will lead them straight here, the same way the last one found us.”
Adaline shook her head vehemently. “My father’s men would never follow such a creature. They would look at it and know it’s a work of evil.”
“Your father is bespelled by Rosmilda,” Miria reminded her. “And if he orders them to, would they not do whatever it takes to rescue you?”
Adaline scowled, but she twisted her fingers uncertainly.
Miria sipped her tea, her thoughts racing. Where were the other witches she’d written to? She knew it was foolish to expect an immediate response, but she could really use one.
She could really use help, truthfully.
“One day doesn’t give me much time to prepare,” Miria said. “I’ll have to choose—do more to fend off our families, or protect the children Rosmilda’s magic harms. Protecting them might slow her down, but it won’t be enough to stop her. I’m certain there are others she can draw from.”
Adaline bit her lip. “Can you block her magic? You’re more powerful, a real witch.”
A real witch—Miria considered the phrase.
What was Rosmilda? Her original assumption—that Rosmilda had obtained the charm she’d given to Adaline from a witch—was no longer likely.
Rosmilda had created it. A witch had taught her, but that didn’t make Rosmilda a witch herself.
And what, if anything, did that suggest about her capabilities?
Miria traced the green vine painted on her teacup with a finger.
“I doubt I can block her. It’s the blood connection, the same way I was able to overcome her blocking me from scrying on my father—it’s too strong.
As long as my father and brother are with her, she can use their blood as proxies to find mine. ”
“I see.” Adaline folded her restless hands together and stared at them.
Miria stared, too. At the tiny mole on the back of Adaline’s left hand and the gold signet ring she wore on her right.
Strawberry juice stained her delicate fingers.
The longer Adaline stayed, the more she and Miria’s father would trade places.
Her hands would grow coarser, more like Miria’s own.
But her time here was seeming like it would be even shorter than Miria had feared. Far too short for that to happen.
The wedding was in two days. If their families’ plan succeeded, Miria would fail herself and fail Adaline.
Then Adaline jerked in her seat as though reaching a decision. “It appears that as long as I’m with you, I put you in danger. I should leave so you’ll be safe.”
“What?” Miria grabbed her hands. “No, that’s not an option. We’ll think of something.”
“Miri, listen to me. The only reason you’re threatened is because I’m here.
I can’t stay and let these men and Rosmilda come for you and possibly destroy your home.
” Adaline wet her lips and stood. “I know you want to stop the wedding, and so do I. I probably want it more than you do in spite of your plans for vengeance. But if there’s something I can do to protect you, I’ll do it.
I’ll leave tonight, and they won’t attack tomorrow. ”
Miria stood, as well, too agitated to stay seated. “Maybe they won’t attack tomorrow. Nothing is certain. Forget my vengeance for a moment. There will be others ways I can get that. This is about you.”
And it was, she realized. Her fury was a fire that deserved quenching, but Adaline came before all else. Vengeance had waited nearly fifteen years; it could wait another fifteen if required. But Adaline did not have that time.
“You deserve better than to be married to my brother,” Miria said. “To be married into a conniving, scheming family that thinks nothing of using any means at their disposal to get what they want. Who would harm innocent children for their own gain. I can’t let that happen.”
Adaline laughed ruefully. “Your family will fit in perfectly at court with values like those. It’s nothing that I’m not used to and everything I’ve been trained to expect.”
“That doesn’t make this any less terrible.”
“It doesn’t, but at least your brother is not three times my age, and he’s never treated me with disrespect.”
“You’ve hardly met him,” Miria pointed out. “You said so yourself.”
“All the reason I can be hopeful.” Adaline sighed.
“Miri, you have helped me more than I ever expected and in ways I never expected. You’ve shown me wonderous things and made me feel like I was allowed to be the person I am without judgment.
You’ve made me feel love and have shown me love that I never dared hope would be reciprocated.
This is the least I can do for you. Let me be useful to you. ”
“I can not let you go back there unless …” Miria swallowed.
“Unless?”
She wasn’t sure where the word had come from. It was a wild hope, dragged from her bleeding heart before her brain could truly consider it. “Unless your return is not the end. Unless I know you won’t have to go through with the wedding.”
“You have a plan?”
She had an idea, an inkling, like a seedling too delicate and young to be called a plant.
It needed time to grow and mature, time for Miria to determine whether or not it would root.
Time she didn’t have. Besides, any plan she might come up with would not be one she’d like.
There would never be one Miria liked if it involved Adaline returning to her family.
“Let’s plan then,” Adaline said. “You’re right. There must be a way for me to protect you and to stop the wedding. We’ll just need to get more creative.”
“Anything we attempt is likely to be dangerous. Rosmilda bespelled your family. She tried to bespell you, too. She’ll certainly try again.”
“But we’ll outsmart her. I know we can.” Hope brightened Adaline’s face, and her eyes gleamed like her sword flashing in the sun.
Her steps grew stronger, surer, as she paced.
She might be a lady, but Adaline was a warrior at heart.
She’d sacrifice herself for others but not without a fight, and her words confirmed every thought running through Miria’s head.
“You’ll outpower Rosmilda, and I’ll out maneuver her.
I much prefer the straightforward simplicity of stabbing my enemies, but I haven’t endured years of lessons in being a lady for none of them to stick.
I was raised to protect me and mine in the viper’s den of court and to give up my body in marriage for my family’s sake. I would much rather risk it for yours.”
Miria closed her eyes, struggling to hold onto the spark of hope amid her despair. The idea for a plan was far from being an actual plan, but it might be the only compromise she and Adaline could both live with. “I would prefer you not risk at all.”
Her eyes opened as Adaline wrapped her arms around Miria’s torso.
“That bird flew the moment we agreed to try to stop the wedding.” She kissed Miria’s cheek.
“Or perhaps it flew the moment you rescued my pathetic lost self two years ago, and I fell in love with a witch.” Gentle fingers tilted Miria’s chin so their lips brushed.
“There’s no story in which a lady and a witch can be together without risk, no matter how odd the lady or how powerful the witch. ”
“I fear I’m not as powerful as you need me to be.”
“You are everything I need you to be, and more than I ever dreamed you would be.”
She kissed Miria’s mouth then, so tenderly that Miria’s brain finally stilled. Worries were smothered beneath the press of Adaline’s body against hers. Words were stolen from her tongue with the touch of Adaline’s own.
Her practicality could only fight so long, and with the end of their time together looming closer than expected, Miria gave in. They could figure out a plan later.
Miria pulled Adaline with her into the second room, reveling in the sensation of Adaline’s hips swaying beneath her hands as they walked.
It was strange how the feeling of someone walking, of muscles moving and contracting beneath layers of fabric, could make her pulse pound.
When the backs of her knees hit the bed, Miria sat.
She wanted to pull Adaline down with her, but Adaline slipped from her arms.
“Wait,” she said. “I want to remind you of what you missed all those times you were too honorable to spy on me in the bath.”
Miria attempted to respond to that with something witty and failed utterly as she watched Adaline untie her overdress. She’d already abandoned her shoes and stockings in the summer heat (Miria’s feralness was, apparently, contagious), so it didn’t take long for Adaline to disrobe completely.
Miria’s breath hitched. She’d thought she wouldn’t forget how beautiful Adaline was, but her memory had failed her. Then Adaline was before her again, kissing her, and Miria reached out to glide her hands over so much soft skin.
But Adaline pulled away again. “Your turn. I’ll help.”
“I can do that myself, you know,” Miria said as Adaline worked to remove her boots. Adaline was going too slowly, torturing her.
“The more you talk, the longer this will take.”
Miria rolled her eyes but allowed Adaline to remove her boots and stockings and pull her layers over her head. When she was finally as naked as Adaline, Adaline seemed satisfied enough to join Miria on the bed.
“You should lie down so I can kiss you,” Adaline said, pressing Miria’s back into the covers with her body.
“Are you this demanding with your servants?” Miria asked. But she did as requested, not that she had a choice. Adaline was hovering over her, and Miria’s eyes were hungry with the sight of her, though not so hungry as her mouth was to kiss her again.
“Hardly. I’ve never wanted to climb naked into bed with one of my servants.
” Adaline considered a moment, her fingers pausing their journey down Miria’s chest and making Miria squirm.
“Well, I did desperately want to kiss one of my maids when I was fourteen, but I never did, of course. Nor even suggested I wanted to. She was my age and terrified of me. I felt awful about it. Now, stop asking questions because I need to kiss you, Miri.”
As soon as Adaline’s lips grazed her throat, Miria couldn’t speak anyway.
Some time later, as Adaline lay curled up next to her, Miria winced as she pulled at a strand of her own hair.
The pain lasted only a second, barely noticeable in her current contented state, but the pain added to her sacrifice.
Her spell would be stronger for it than if she’d merely used a strand of hair that had naturally fallen out.
“What are you doing?” Adaline raised her head, and her legs, which were entwined with Miria’s, shifted.
Miria paused doing anything because the sensation was distracting.
“Protecting you,” she said once she could refocus.
Adaline shifted positions again, this time tracing her fingers around the curve of Miria’s breast. “There’s time for that later. You should be kissing me again.”
Rather than wait for Miria to do that, she took the initiative and lowered her lips to the hollow at Miria’s throat. Unfortunately for her, Miria was too ticklish for the ploy to be successful.
“Later.” She was unable to suppress a laugh, and she wiggled in Adaline’s arms. “Later only exists if you don’t leave tonight. Stay until morning so we can plan.”
“I’ll stay until morning so I can kiss you,” Adaline said. “But yes, plan, too. Fine. I’ll leave at first light in the morning.”
Unless Miria could revise her tentative plan into one that didn’t require Adaline leaving at all, it would do. “Let me finish this. Lift your hair. I’m going to do my best to hide the spell.”
“Fine.” Adaline sighed in an exaggerated manner, but she smiled and positioned herself as Miria instructed.
Adaline’s hair was sweaty, as were they both, but that made it easier for Miria to weave. She braided her strand into a tendril of waves near Adaline’s neck, whispering a protective enchantment as she worked. When she finished, she smoothed Adaline’s hair down and combed it with her fingers.
“Will that protect me from Rosmilda’s magic?” Adaline asked.
“I hope so. It’s some protection anyway, and more powerful than the first charm I made for you. Combined, those two spells will need to be enough.”
“Good. I trust you.” Adaline spun around. “Now can I kiss you again?” She pressed her finger to Miria’s lips. “Then we’ll plan while we eat. I promise.”
Miria was about to agree, but a warning brushed her mind, and she held up a hand. “Someone is outside.”