Chapter 18 – Isolde
ISOLDE
Sian took twenty bottles of expensive liquor from Lord Balik’s personal stash.
Perhaps I should have felt guilty about taking so much from my ally when, so far, I’d offered little in return, but I could find no place for such an emotion.
Not when the day had wrung me out. And especially not when I was surrounded by my friends in a cozy den inside Ramshold, all of us safe and a bit tipsy. We needed a moment to just be.
Near the window, Vale sat with his cabal. That clandestine group preferred the bite of Dragon Fire, whereas the ladies had taken to the less intense cinnamon-flavored spirits hailing from the Autumn Court. Though if Sayyida were present, I was sure we’d have a bottle of Dragon Fire, too.
My heart clenched at the thought of my storm-spirited friend sailing our way. I hoped she would arrive soon. Not just because I wanted House Virtoris for an ally, but I missed my friends. Missed Vidar’s kindness and Sayyida’s boldness.
“Do you remember when you said you’d make me a dress, Isolde?” a voice brought me back to the circle of ladies sitting with me.
I smiled at Marit, sitting primly with her ankles crossed. On either side of her lounged Princess Bavirra and my sister.
“I want to make it green to match your eyes and complement your hair. It’ll be so lovely.”
Marit clapped her hands together. “So you’re still going to make it? I’ll admit, I’ve been envious of that amethyst one you wore ever since I first saw it.”
“You’re that good?” Thyra tipped her goblet until it was at a precarious angle.
“I’m skilled.”
“She’s one of the best seamstresses I’ve ever seen.” Anna sat next to me, Thyra on my other side. Two sisters, one of the heart, one of blood.
“You’re just as good.”
“That’s why I said one of the best.” Anna winked. “I was trying to be polite.”
Laughter spread around the jagged circle, loosening us up even more than the drink.
“Well, I can’t wait to wear my gown. Whenever you get around to making it,” Marit said when the laughter ran out.
She left off that I’d have to survive the war, which I appreciated. Tonight was for fun, not for considering what doom may come.
Movement came from where the males sat, and I caught Qildor rising, casting a glance our way. The recipient of his gaze, Marit, didn’t fail to see him.
Marit cleared her throat. “But for now, I must retire.”
My lips parted, and my gaze darted around the circle, caught the mirth in Saga and the Balik sister’s faces.
Even Clem and Anna appeared to be holding in their laughter, but it was Bavirra’s expression, one that clearly stated Marit wasn’t hiding anything from anyone—not even the dwarf who barely knew her—that made my laughter bubble over.
“Retire?” I asked coyly. “But Marit, it’s only the ninth bell!”
“We were going to drink all night!” Saga pressed, her face full of relish.
“I’m not feeling up for it anymore,” Marit replied.
Another round of laughter brought a scowl to her lips, and I was sure that she had to force herself not to look at him as Qildor passed by and bid us good night.
When her knight slipped from the room, Bavirra pointed to the door. “He’s quite handsome, isn’t he?”
“It’s the black hair and the violet eyes,” Clem added. “What a remarkable combination.”
“Oh, all of you are so horrible!” Marit grinned even as she spoke. “Fine, I want a bit of alone time with him. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Not that we needed to,” Eireann said, “but it is quite satisfying.”
“I’m begging you, though, when we ask you about you two tomorrow, please have some more salacious gossip. A good, long kiss, at the very least!” Baenna tossed up her hands.
Marit sighed. “If a kiss happens, I’ll shout it from the towers. But I must go, before he comes to the conclusion that I’m not coming at all.” With that, she rushed out of the room.
“They haven’t kissed?” Bavirra turned back to the circle.
Saga let out a long breath. “My father forced Marit to wed Jarl Triam, an absolute mound of gryphon dung, mind you, and unfortunately, they’re still married.”
“Not just an arsehole, but a murderer!” Clemencia added.
“That too.” Saga nodded vigorously. “Qildor is very much the honorable sort. It probably nearly killed him to abandon the Clawsguard for Marit, and I’m not sure he’ll make a move until her marriage officially ends.”
“I hope that’s by Jarl Triam’s death.” Eireann’s eyes glinted with suppressed malice. “Marit got the worst of the Courting Festival. Even in that short time she was under his control, he hurt her badly.”
I wondered what the Balik sisters made of their forced matches. Their father had seen both pairings as a slight, but neither Baenna nor Eireann had uttered a word about them.
“Isolde and I will terminate that marriage.” Thyra looked to me. “And any other unwanted union set by Magnus too.”
“Of course,” I added, tossing my sister a smile.
The conversation strayed from Marit and her noble knight to other matters, all of them far from the war to come.
A welcome respite. My sister was more animated than I’d ever seen her and had bonded well with Princess Bavirra.
I was having a wonderful time, and it seemed the males were too, when the topic of mine and Thyra’s namedays came up.
“Vale told me your namedays fell on the Winter Solstice,” Saga said two bells later. “And I hope you two don’t mind, but we are planning to throw a little dinner party.” She gestured to Anna, Clem, and the Balik sisters.
“Planning?” I asked. “Since when?”
“Four days ago,” Clem supplied. Her cheeks had turned rosy from the spirits. “It’s important to celebrate milestones. This one especially. Until recently, no one knew you two were alive. Now there will be a splendid meal to celebrate with you!”
I looked at my twin, who appeared shocked at the turn of conversation, but upon catching my eyes, she smiled.
“We spent our early namedays together, but none since then,” Thyra said softly. “It’s a nice idea.”
I’d been more worried over the question of if we should have such a celebration with everything going on. But if I couldn’t celebrate my nameday with my twin—and the very fact that we were still alive, when everyone else in our family was dead—what were we doing this for, anyway?
“Do you need any help planning?” I asked.
Saga beamed as she shook her head. “Absolutely not! You two just show up.”
“I’m going to end the night on a high note.” Thyra stood from her armchair. “The rest of the rebels are due to arrive tomorrow. I don’t want to be hungover when they do.”
As it was getting late, we all agreed to call it a night, and our party disbanded. I went to Vale and kissed his cheek.
“Bed calls, but you look like you’re having fun, so don’t feel pressured to join. I won’t wait up.”
“Sleep well.” He kissed me on the lips.
I left with Clem and Anna, both of whom had also stayed behind to say goodnight to the males they adored. We parted when they reached their rooms, across from one another, and I continued on to mine, relieving Astril of her guard over Sassa’s Blade.
I was slipping beneath the quilt when a knock came at the door. I waited for Astril to speak, but a different muffled voice met my ear.
Is that coming from Thyra’s door? I sat up.
My nosiness fortified by the spirits I’d imbibed, I slipped from my bed, tiptoed to the door, and placed my ear against the wood. A masculine laugh—Thantrel’s laugh—rang through the hallway before the door closest to my suite shut.
A grin spread across my face, and looking forward to teasing my sister again, I threw the door open wide.
Livia stared back at me from Thyra’s door, and I did not miss Astril’s lips quirk up. They were hiding something.
“Thantrel is visiting her suite?”
“I was told not to say anything,” Livia answered.
A laugh tripped off my lips. “I don’t need you to tell me.” I marched across the hallway and, without knocking, opened my sister’s door.
Neither my twin nor Thantrel were in the main room. “Thyra! Thantrel! I know you’re both in here!”
That same masculine laugh erupted from the bathing chamber, and my mouth fell open as Thantrel’s head poked out.
“Shouldn’t you be asleep, Isolde?”
“Why are you in my sister’s bathing chamber?”
In answer, Thantrel’s head disappeared. I paused, assessing the situation like I probably should have before. He hadn’t been wet, and I’d seen his shirt. He was clothed. Maybe Thantrel was giving Thyra an eyeliner tutorial?
“Now that you’ve barged in, are you going to join us?” Thyra called out.
Well, I supposed that I was. I crossed the main suite and poked my head inside her bathing chamber. My cheeks flamed.
“You’re in the bath!” I sputtered as I took in my sister, hidden beneath mounds and mounds of bubbles, a wicked grin on her face.
Thyra threw a handful of bubbles at me. “Well spotted.”
“I thought he was showing you how to do his eyeliner or something.” Stars, it sounded so stupid when I said those words out loud.
Thantrel gave me the most smug, self-satisfied smile.
“You’re saying that eyeliner tips made you seek me out, sister?” Thyra’s tone was too sweet, too innocent. “Or did you really just want to catch me kissing this pretty male?”
I said nothing, which prompted a booming laugh from Thantrel.
Thyra grinned up at him. Both of them were having too much fun embarrassing me.
My hands landed on my hips, and Thantrel rose, apparently taking pity on me.
“As much as I love hearing that I’m pretty, I’ll be going now.” He took Thyra’s hand from where it was draped over the edge of the copper tub and lifted it to his lips. The kiss he deposited was soft and still, I looked away from the private moment. “Goodnight, Thyra.”
“Goodnight.”
Thantrel winked at me before leaving the suite. I held it together for three seconds after he shut the door before scurrying over to my sister.
“I cannot believe that just happened!”
“It’s not like we were doing anything. I was already buried in bubbles when I had Livia let him in. We were just talking.”
The way Thyra said it made me think they had. “Wait, has something happened?”
“Well, we’ve kissed a few times.”
My heart stopped. “How many exactly?”
“Three.”
“Three times!” I slapped her shoulder, spraying water and bubbles on the ground in the process. “Thyra, how dare you not tell me!”
She laughed. “I didn’t want you to get your hopes up, but it seems I’ve failed in that regard.”
“Why not?”
Was she not going to accept her mate? After kissing him?
I didn’t understand how that could happen. Vale and I had barely been able to keep our hands off each other when we thought our marriage was a sham and we had no star-blessed connection at all.
“Because of the deal with Lord Balik,” Thyra replied as one hand swirled the thick bubbles.
I made a wild gesture with my hands. “I realize now that I forgot to tell you this after our meeting with Lord Balik, but you need to know that Sian is gay.”
“Thantrel told me, but does that really matter? Royal and noble households expect what they expect, and why would I want to pass on the responsibility of marrying into a line to someone else? Someone who didn’t ask for it?
We are the ones who asked for the alliance.
If we live and have children, they should not pay for our choices. ”
She had me there. And yet, I couldn’t let my sister not fulfill her mating bond if she wanted to do so. I took her hands. “I’m going to talk to Sian. Would you change your mind if he flat-out told you he didn’t want to marry you?”
Her eyebrows pinched together. “That would make things easier. Though I still wouldn’t feel wonderful about passing the responsibility to a youngling in the future.”
“That’s assuming we have any.” I let out a sigh, trying to be rational, though when I thought of having younglings with Vale, my musings always turned dreamy. One day, I wanted that. But one day wasn’t promised.
“The thing is, you have to live for now. We may win this war, but we also may not. And if we don’t, I want you to have experienced as much as you can.” I lifted my left hand, showed her the soulmate mark. “This is worth it.”
Her gaze trained on the snowflakes lining my finger, and she was quiet for a long moment before nodding. “I’ll think about it.”