Chapter 50
The last two days had been unusually calm. Or at least, calmer than Evelyne expected.
Preparations for the Duskwood Manor ball had filled nearly every waking hour, leaving little room for anything else.
Still, the quiet between moments felt deceptive, like the pause before a storm.
Evelyne’s nerves had been steadily unraveling at the thought of stepping back into society—of standing before a room full of nobles and declaring herself betrothed to Kaldrek, Lord of Centaro.
She hated to admit how terrified it made her.
Kaldrek, to her surprise, had taken to the performance far better than expected.
He wore the role with almost natural ease, though she knew how much he loathed it—the stiff clothing, the expectations, the required composure.
She also knew he would never go anywhere unarmed, which meant that even in a waistcoat, he would likely have a dagger tucked beneath it or into his boot.
Some things could not be changed, and truthfully, she loved how protected she felt beside him.
Recently, however, Aurelia had requested a different sort of preparation: peace and quiet from the males.
She insisted upon it, though Evelyne suspected the request was aimed most directly at Holden.
He had been off ever since the incident in the tea room, and refused to talk about it.
Kaldrek had offered no explanation, and while Evelyne had tried to respect that, her curiosity was beginning to wear thin.
Today, though, Holden was nowhere near the tea room. And still, something was wrong with Aurelia.
It was only her, Evelyne, and Heidara now, gathered once again for another attempt at refining their “proper conversation.” Evelyne and Heidara had hurried to clean themselves and arrive on time, but the moment they stepped through the doorway, Aurelia nearly snapped.
Now she paced the length of the room, a fan clutched tightly in her hand as she moved it rapidly before her face, the motion frantic rather than elegant.
“Is it just me,” she asked, the words clipped, “or is it unbearably warm in here today? I cannot seem to get comfortable.”
Evelyne frowned slightly. The room was cool, if anything. The season had shifted, and the hearth had not yet been lit.
“No,” she said carefully. “It is not warm.”
Aurelia did not seem to hear her. She could not sit still. Her fingers tugged at her sleeves, then at the neckline of her dress, then back again, as though nothing sat quite right against her skin.
“Goodness,” Aurelia muttered, pressing a hand briefly to her temple. “My apologies—I do not know what has come over me. Let us begin.”
She reached for her glass of water and drank it down far too quickly.
“Tell me, Heidara,” she said, forcing a smile, “what do you most enjoy in your spare time within the eastern lands?”
Heidara brightened at once. “Oh, I very much enjoy tending to flowers on warm days. The colors—pink, purple—they make me feel—”
“Too much,” Aurelia cut in, her tone sharp. “You do not need to embellish so greatly. Try again.”
She adjusted her bodice again.
And again.
Evelyne stood. “Aurelia—are you well?”
“Yes,” Aurelia snapped quickly. “I am quite fine. Continue.”
“I do not believe you,” Evelyne replied, her voice firmer now. “You have not been still for more than a moment since we arrived.”
Aurelia let out an exasperated breath, lowering her fan.
“Very well,” she said. “If you must know, I feel… strange.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “My skin is hot. My thoughts will not settle. It is as though—” She cut herself off, shaking her head. “Forgive me. It is nothing.”
She reached for her empty glass.
“Mauri!” she called out frantically. “More water, if you please.”
Evelyne stepped closer, lifting her hand to Aurelia’s forehead.
“Gods,” she murmured. “You are burning. This is not normal. We should call for a healer.”
“No,” Aurelia said quickly, waving her off. “The ball is in only a few days. We must continue.”
Heidara had already moved. “I will fetch a cloth,” she said, slipping from the room before Aurelia could object.
“Aurelia,” Evelyne said, more gently now, “you are not yourself.”
“I am not ill,” Aurelia insisted, though her voice faltered slightly.
“Perhaps, perhaps it is simply stress. I have had much to consider.” She exhaled shakily.
“Though,” she added under her breath, “a cool cloth across my entire body would be most welcome. I feel as though I may come apart if I do not calm myself.”
Evelyne frowned. She had never struggled to hold back her shifting. If anything, she had embraced it. But Aurelia… Aurelia was different.
“Try breathing,” Evelyne said. “In for four, out for eight.”
Aurelia obeyed, reluctantly.
They repeated the rhythm several times until Heidara returned with Seraphine, both carrying cool cloths.
“May I?” Heidara asked softly.
Aurelia nodded.
Heidara placed the cloth at her neck, across her chest, and Aurelia let out a long, relieved breath.
“More,” she murmured. “Please.”
Seraphine took over tending to Aurelia, replacing the cool cloths and fussing over her until she seemed to calm, if only slightly.
A moment later, the sound of male laughter drifted in from just beyond the tea room, and Evelyne rose, turning toward the doorway.
She caught sight of Cillian escorting Kaldrek and Holden back inside after whatever “preparations” they had been occupied with—though judging by the scent that followed them in, Evelyne was quite certain those preparations had involved cigars and whiskey.
Aurelia was going to have an even bigger fit.
Kaldrek slowed at the threshold, pausing before stepping fully into the room. The three of them filtered inside, Holden trailing just behind, when Cillian suddenly halted mid-step.
“What is wrong with—” he began, then stopped short. His brows pulled together sharply as he inhaled, his expression shifting in confusion. “What is that?”
“What?” Aurelia snapped, clearly agitated. “For heaven’s sake, Cillian, can you not see I’m unwell? Just—please leave. This is humiliating enough.”
Cillian didn’t argue. He backed out of the room slowly, as though something had genuinely unsettled him, his gaze flicking once more toward Aurelia before disappearing into the hall. Kaldrek and Holden, however, remained where they stood, both of them staring at her in a way that puzzled Evelyne.
Kaldrek let out a slow, controlled breath before turning toward Holden. Without a word, he pressed a firm hand against Holden’s chest and began pushing him backward—actually pushing him—out of the room and into the hallway.
A low, threatening growl sounded and Evelyne and Heidara were on their feet instantly.
“What is going on?” Evelyne demanded.
Aurelia shoved the wet cloth from her body and stood as well, her patience clearly gone. Outside the doorway, Kaldrek and Holden had begun shoving one another—though it was far less of a struggle and far more Kaldrek forcing Holden toward the exit.
“I said shift!” Kaldrek’s voice rang out, firm and unmistakably commanding. “Now, Holden!”
Holden’s growl deepened, vibrating through the corridor. He paused suddenly, his eyes snapping back toward the room—and toward Aurelia, who now stood watching.
Heidara let out a small, almost delighted giggle. “Oh my. Well, this is interesting.” She looked at Evelyne. “I’ll see you at camp. Good luck.”
Before Evelyne could respond, Heidara slipped past them and out the door, her brother following close behind. The sound of bones snapping echoed from just outside as both shifted.
Kaldrek paused only briefly, glancing back over his shoulder.
“You’re not sick, Aurelia. Just—drink water and get some rest.” He took one step toward the door before adding to Evelyne, “She should calm down shortly. Stay with your sister tonight and I’ll be by tomorrow morning. I promise I’ll explain everything.”
And then he was gone, running after his packmates and shifting as well.
Evelyne stood there, staring at the empty doorway, her thoughts spinning.
What in the hell was that?
***
Kaldrek was right, of course.
Aurelia calmed nearly two hours after the incident, which left Evelyne free to be irritated with him.
Very irritated. He had said he would return in the morning, and since Aurelia was now safe, Evelyne felt no guilt letting her frustration flood through their bond.
She was furious that he was leaving her in the dark.
He knew it too, because every hour or so, he sent the same reassurance.
I promise everything is fine. I only need to be with Holden right now. I will be back.
Then, naturally, she became angry with herself for being angry at all. Perhaps Holden truly did need him, and here she was being petty.
Aurelia sat near the pianoforte, playing a familiar melody Evelyne had heard countless times before.
Only now did Evelyne realize her sister chose that tune when her nerves were at their worst. It was her way of calming herself.
So instead of pestering her, as she might have done as a younger girl, Evelyne remained on the couch with a book in her lap.
At last, Aurelia stopped playing and turned on the bench.
“Evelyne?” Her voice carried enough concern that Evelyne closed her book at once. “I think there is something wrong with me.”
“Whatever do you mean? If you are speaking of earlier, I think it may have been some sort of stress-induced panic. You look much better now.”
“No, that is not what I mean.” Aurelia waved the thought aside. “I look at you and Cillian, and you both seem so suited to this new life.” Her fingers twisted in her lap. “While I am failing miserably.”
Evelyne’s brows drew together. “No, that is not true. Look at you. You are safe, recovering, and still entirely yourself. Cillian and I have struggled too. We still are.”
Aurelia sighed.