30. Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty
I exit the great hall and take a left.
Emotions I’d once buried run wild through me, dragging memories up with them. Memories of running through these halls as a child, of dining in the great hall, of seeing the hurt and shock on my mother’s face in that very room when I’d told her I was leaving for Keuron.
Gods-damn it.
I thought I was past this. I thought I’d be strong enough to leave the past where it belongs—out of sight, out of mind. To relinquish its control over me. In the time I’ve been away, I’ve trained my body, I’ve honed my mind, and I’ve even conquered my impulses. I’m not the female I was when I left, and yet… I am.
The female I was and the female I am are one and the same. Only, I’m stronger now.
Braver. More confident in myself and my abilities, both on the battlefield and amongst the nobles.
The old Lymseia is still here, within me.
She is me. And I’m her reforged.
It would also appear I’m too wrapped up in my emotions to pay much attention to my surroundings. I’m barely able to look up in time before I trample the male heading toward me.
“Gods,” I stammer, blinking away my surprise. “My apologies—”
“That is quite all right,” a calm, soft-spoken voice says. “I should not be so aloof when traversing the halls.”
My head snaps up to a face.
Amicable crimson eyes stare back at me from a fair face framed by rich brown hair. The older, more experienced version of Myrdin’s.
“Lord Tarrantree,” I say, my mouth suddenly dry. “Truth be told, I wasn’t expecting to see you.” My eyes narrow. There’s something strange, lingering in the air.
Something wrong.
“What’s brought you all this way from Redbourne?” I ask, placing a hand on my hip. “Surely, it must be important.”
Tanyl gives me a small smile. “Nothing you need worry about. Merely Court politics, appearances, and the like. It is good to maintain relationships with the other Heads of House, especially during uncertain times like these.”
My jaw tightens. “I’m sure your nephew could use your support more than my mother, in as you say, these ‘uncertain’ times.”
“My nephew and his mate are more than capable,” he says, pride coloring his tone. “Still, Viridian knows that all he needs to do is ask, and I will humbly assist.”
“Right.” My voice comes out clipped. “Well, I must be off. It’s been a pleasure.”
Tanyl smiles at me again, his expression warm. Too warm. “The pleasure is mine, Lymseia. It is always wonderful to see you.”
I give him a stiff nod, and then brush past him down the hall. I wait until I’m about to round the corner to turn back. Tanyl continues forward at a calm, leisurely pace, as if everything’s fine and dandy.
Still, I can’t shake the dread that’s wrapped an icy fist around my throat. The very air I breathe feels tainted somehow.
Dark.
Wrong.
When I realize what it reminds me of, I nearly stagger, bracing my hand against the wall for support.
Gods above. That wrong feeling. It’s just like…
Lyndhaven.
The air here feels like Lyndhaven in the time before the crepulnai attacked.
Gods, that would mean…
That would mean Tanyl, not Myrdin, is responsible for Vorr’s death. That he was the male Arella saw that night.
Urgency powers my steps, my feet carrying me forward as if my life depends on it. I advance farther, until I arrive at my destination. The drive to act has my abdomen wound tight, with a need to address the threat at hand.
But when I reach the library, and I find my father and Asheros sitting by the hearth, the tension coiling in my shoulders fades. Leaning forward, Father holds a book against his lap. Asheros’s face is lit up with a carefree, boyish brightness that gives him a downright magnetizing quality.
He’s absolutely breathtaking.
I lean against the doorframe, unabashedly staring.
It may be selfish and irresponsible of me, but, for once, I let myself enjoy this moment.
The threat can wait.
Because this—this joy, this temporary peace—is something I’ll never get back. If there’s a chance Nemos will take our lives, this is a memory I’ll bring with me into the next world.
Whatever it is Father and Asheros are going on about, there’s a lull in their conversation, and they turn their heads to me.
Immediately, Asheros stands and crosses the room to me. His smile is infectious, and he looks at me as if I’m the highlight of his day.
I will never, ever get enough of him.
“How was it?” he asks, brows furrowing. “After I left?”
“It was how I expected,” I tell him, not wanting to diminish the light in his eyes. I keep my encounter with Tanyl to myself for now, not wanting to explain it to him in front of my father. And maybe, to keep that smile on his face for just a bit longer.
“Ah.” Asheros leans his head back in understanding. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I say, taking his hands in mine. “It can’t be helped.”
He presses his lips together, seemingly unconvinced.
“Truly,” I assure him. “I’d rather you didn’t waste your energy worrying about it.”
“And why is that?” He asks, that seductive wickedness seeping into his smirk. “Is there something else you’d rather me conserve my energy for?”
“Absolutely.” I wink. I glance at my father. “Later. After we’ve found our rooms for the night.”
Understanding my silent request, Asheros nods. For as long as I live, I’ll always appreciate his ability to know what it is I need without having to voice it. “I’ll see you then.”
Giving my hands one last squeeze, Asheros slips past me, out of the library.
Turning to face my father, I make my way to the hearth and sit on the floor beside his chair like I used to when he’d tell Vestella and me stories as children. My anxiety still grips my chest, but I keep it at bay for now. If Tanyl is truly the red-eyed male we’ve been searching for, and he has the ability to summon crepulnai, then this could very well be the last time I see my father. I don’t want to ruin this moment.
“Your mate speaks very highly of you,” Father says, his voice a warm rumble. “It’s been very pleasant speaking with him.”
This is one of the things I’ve always appreciated about my father. No matter how much time has passed, how much has changed, or what’s happened between us, it still feels as though we’ve picked up right where we left off. There’s no need for an explanation or a justification. I can just exist as I am. He’s the one person—aside from Asheros, now—who I know would never judge me harshly or make me feel lesser, no matter what I’ve done.
“He’s bad for my ego, to say the least,” I quip with a laugh. My tone softens. “I’m glad you enjoyed talking to him.”
Father takes my hand. “I truly did, my brave girl. He’s good for you.”
A smile rises to my cheeks. “You think so?”
Father nods, his lip curved upward. “I do. He sees you. Truly sees you and loves you anyway. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. That, and for you to see the things he sees in you, in yourself.”
Taking my face into my hands, I sigh. “Yes, well, Mother… Mother makes that rather difficult. ”
Father’s quiet for a moment. Then, “I won’t deny that your mother is hard on you. She’s hard on everyone.” Father’s cobalt eyes fall to his hands. “But you must know, that like you, she’s especially hard on herself.” He looks back up at me now, love brimming in his expression. “You may not see it, but you are so much like her.”
“Oh, gods,” I groan, rubbing my forehead. “That’s supposed to be a compliment?”
Father gives me a pretend frown. “Yes, it’s supposed to be a compliment.” The frown falls from his mouth, becoming something more sincere. “You, your sister, and your mother are the strongest females I have the privilege of standing beside. There is nothing you three cannot do, should you decide to do it. Leading by example, your mother instilled that in you from a young age.”
Father’s words give me pause.
“She did, didn’t she?” I murmur.
Though I’d failed numerous times—at practicing magic, at memorizing names of people and places, at softening my blunt nature—there was never anything that made me doubt whether my mother thought I could do it.
“Try again,” she would say when I was young, wiping my frustrated tears from my cheeks. “Try as many times as you need to master this.”
There’s a knowing look in Father’s expression. “Your mother and I, we both have the utmost faith in you, Lymseia. We’ve always been so proud of you, my brave girl.”
Unable to find the right words, I nod, a smile tugging at my lips. I’ve never been much good with the mushy things.
Instead, I tilt my head up to Father. “Would you tell me a story, for old times’ sake?” I may be grown, but one’s never too old to ask their father for a story.
Father beams, nodding. “Of course, of course.” He pauses, tapping his fingers against his chin. “Ah, let’s see. Once, there was a brave warrior whose twin short swords became synonymous with her name…”
I n one of the guest suites, Asheros, the others, and I are positioned around the room. Kheldryn sits at the edge of the bed, with her legs crossed, while Gryska leans back on her palms. Savell leans against the far wall, in the corner, while Ronan stands by the window. Asheros is near the center of the room, less than a shoulder-width apart from me.
Eyes fixed on some spot ahead of him, Asheros presses the pads of his fingers to his chin.
“I’m telling you,” I say, my voice rough, “I know what I felt. It’s him. It must be.”
“I know, Bladesinger,” Asheros murmurs, running a hand through his white-blond hair. “I know. I’m just…” He exhales. “I don’t understand why Tanyl would do this. He’s the late High King’s brother-in-law. The current High King’s uncle. His proximity to the throne gives him great political influence he’d lose should Viridian fall.”
“I know,” I admit, my shoulders sagging with defeat. “I can’t make sense of it either.”
“In every council meeting I’ve attended with him, he’s always been so… soothing. Often annoyingly so,” Asheros says, shaking his head a little. “To think he could be capable of such merciless political machinations goes against everything I’ve come to believe about him.”
“We need to assume that everything we know is an act,” Savell says, his tone bitter. “Noble fae may not be capable of lies, but they can still deceive.”
Kheldryn wraps her arms around herself. “Savell makes a good point. We can’t know who to trust.”
Asheros sighs. “Believe me, I’m well aware.” A pause. “But making a move against the Copper Court’s Head of House could be detrimental if we aren’t careful. Though I’m not yet the Head of House, I still need to think of my Court. The last thing I want is to make an enemy of Copper.”
“Regardless, we mustn’t wait to act. We need to move as soon as possible,” I say, the words flooding from my lips. Making a move for the door, I add, “I’ll speak to my mother at once, and—”
“Bladesinger.” Asheros’s hand on my shoulder stops me. “Please, give it a night. That’s all I ask.”
“You say that as if you know we have a night to spare,” I tell him. “I understand your duties to your Court. But I have my own duties, duties to my High King to consider. ”
“I know, Bladesinger.” Fatigue sets into his face. “Trust me, I do. And you know that you will always, always have my support. I merely want you to think things through. Will you give me that?”
Something shifts in the corridor, barely audible behind the closed door.
I cock my head, straining to listen.
“Bladesinger?” Asheros presses, his voice soft.
I wait a moment, but whatever I heard is gone.
“All right,” I surrender, turning to face Asheros. “We’ll sleep on it. But just for tonight.”
Something akin to relief lessens the tension at Asheros’s jaw. “Thank you, Lymseia. Truly.”
Clenching my hands into fists, I curl my fingers and then let go. Worry tenses my muscles, knots forming in my upper back. Every instinct I have is urging me to move, to withdraw my swords and slay the demon where he sleeps.
But as much as I’d rather not admit it, Asheros is right. Gods forbid I’m wrong about Tanyl, there could be serious political consequences for him that I hadn’t considered but should have.
“Come,” Asheros says, taking my hand. Weariness slows his movements. I hadn’t realized how worn down he is. “Let’s have a hot meal and get some rest. When morning comes, we’ll need it.”