Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
Iwanted to stay there forever. In Vale’s arms, in raw wilderness unfolding in new ways around me.
We basked there for a long while, sweetly savoring the shared embrace. We also knew if we did not return before nightfall, the guards would come looking. Their diligence and the safety of the secluded valley granted us a great deal of freedom, but even that has its limits.
“It looks like the fresh air did you some good.” Sincerity from Ace is always far more disarming than his jabs.
“Soria may have something different to say,” I reply, the hair she braided with such care now a frenzied mess from the falls, the ride back, and everything in between.
“I would say let me ready you a hot bath, and we can deal with this later.” She gestures to my savage mane with a mix of kindness and exasperation.
The steaming hot water of the bath reminds me how well my dear friend and companion knows me.
The day was inspiring and otherworldly; it also exacted a toll on me. Sinking into the large tub—more intimate than the one back at the Hold in a way that feels all the more welcoming for it—I feel the exhaustion loosen free from me rather than dragging me down as it so easily could.
I do not feel as though the magic I witnessed today took anything from me. It’s the weariness that comes from experiencing so much all at once that grips at me now.
Vale cleans lightly, changes for dinner, and takes a seat at the desk in the private library to go over news that arrived from the palace.
The doors within the suite remain open so we still feel connected despite our varying tasks.
I savor the way heat envelops me a while longer, washing my hair with the soap set nearby before rising from the tub to dry off.
With a robe cinched around my waist, I join Vale’s side as he pores over the scrolls.
I am still pressing my strands with a towel to keep them from dripping when I notice a shift in his mood.
“What is it? Is something wrong back home?” I catch myself on the word for only a moment. Home means so much more to me now. I feel a protectiveness rise inside me and urge Vale to share what news he received.
He opens a scroll, and I read the words aloud.
“As per your request, the select vintage from the wine cellars will arrive tomorrow. The guards will be informed of the couriers’ movements.
—Odrin.”
I look at Vale. He gnaws at the inside of his mouth, and I can sense something brewing.
“I don’t understand—why is your Lord Commander and Warden of the Crown concerned with what graces our dinner table?”
“He’s not,” Vale says with a heaviness that concerns me.
“It’s our code. One of them, at least. Now more than ever, there are times we cannot speak freely in our communication.
We have select phrases, innocuous to anyone foolish enough to break a royal seal or try peering over a shoulder toward words intended only between us. ”
I feel myself start to shrink away, suddenly aware that I was just peering over his shoulder myself.
“That doesn’t apply to you, my love. This message was meant for the Crown, and that includes you, my queen.” I lean back into him, thankful for the trust we share so implicitly.
“Select vintage lets me know that Odrin has matters far too delicate. If he is letting the guards know to expect an arrival, then there is a messenger or delivery meant for me—one best made under the cover of this ruse.” He folds the scroll and taps the desk, pondering.
“He could call for me back in an instant if action were needed. But whatever it is must still be of the utmost importance.”
I rub at his shoulders, kneading at the knots the size of boulders snarled across his broad back.
As relaxing and stimulating as today was, the burdens he carries are undeniable.
I wrap my arms around him and whisper, “Whatever it is, we will face it tomorrow.” I press a kiss just behind his ear. “Together.”
In an effort to distract him from the impending message, I pick out the most intricate of the dresses Soria had sent to the manor—one with enough lacing up the back that assistance is required to fit it to me properly.
Vale sees right through my game but is happy to join in so long as he can kiss up along my neck as he does.
I know the matter is far from forgotten, but I hope it lingers a little further from his mind for the time being.
Joining the others in the dining room, Soria takes in the appearance of the more formal attire with my very informal way in which my hair is swept up. Thankfully my hair doesn’t drip onto the gown, but it’s a far cry from being properly tended to.
“Looking quite lovely, m’lady,” she says, breaking into a snicker before she can finish the line. I see a flash of panic in her eyes at the uncharacteristic slip from decorum that makes me think she has either been sampling the wine early or is truly at ease here—perhaps a mix of the two.
“I think our queen could set off the latest fashion trend, if I do say so myself. Though I am not sure anyone can pull off the earth mother goddess look quite as well as you, Mira.”
“Why, thank you, Ace,” I let out with a laugh.
The banter is precisely what I need right now—the feeling of family rich around us, the way humor melts away any formality.
I can see why the manor is so cherished.
This place allows us to breathe a bit more deeply, laugh far more freely, and connect much more intimately.
With the plates cleared and another round of wine poured, I begin to explain what I experienced today—to the best of my ability.
Soria and Ace shake their heads in a mix of disbelief and awe.
Vale smirks smugly from the head of the table, having the rare gift of witnessing the splendor through my reactions earlier in the day.
We speak softly, and I offer things in somewhat vague descriptors, but they can tell from my tone that the pool did not, in fact, merely shimmer.
When the staff retires to their quarters for the evening and our group explores the bottom of the wine bottle in the relaxed comfort of the parlor, I will speak more plainly on the true nature of our day.
“I think I’d like to spend some time in the garden tomorrow,” I mention to Soria, knowing the kitchen is still brimming with activity.
“I think that’s a splendid idea.” Vale tilts his glass up in approval. “It will help pass the time before our courier arrives.” He turns toward Ace. “Odrin has a special delivery coming our way.”
Ace’s eyes widen with understanding, a slow, dramatic nod as he takes in the hidden meaning.
“I will be at the ready to assist as needed, of course.”
Leaning back into Vale’s chest, the crackling heat of the hearth snapping in its own hushed rhythm, I begin to feel just how exhausted I am—bone-deep weariness that no amount of wonder seems to shake.
“If you all heal the way you do, how is it I can still feel so tired and achy?” I wonder aloud. A quiet ripple of laughter comes from all corners of the room at the unexpected query.
“Now these are the real questions we ought to be asking.” Ace stretches over to the table, forgoing a glass and lifting the bottle straight to his lips.
“Grandfather was so stoic you may not know if he was about to bleed out on the battlefield or merely perturbed that his steak got too cold while someone was talking, but—” he leans back into the chair, propping a heel up on the table I am quite certain the late king would have never allowed—“after the Fade, aches did seem to linger longer. Healing took its time. Perhaps that is why we lost so many.” His voice fades away as he turns and looks out the window to the darkness both beyond its panes and inside his thoughts.
“Sometimes I wonder if it was youthful vigor I remember so fondly, or if we lost more than we know.” Vale swirls the last bit of wine in his glass before tossing it back, setting the empty goblet on the table and holding me more closely.
“You said she heals even faster than us?” Soria directs it at Vale. She does not mean to disregard my presence—Vale would know far better than I how I compare to what is common amongst them.
“It’s remarkable, really,” he responds.
“If it’s so remarkable, why do I constantly feel this sting between my shoulders?” I laugh and reach for my own glass. The answer may not lie at the bottom of the glass, but it doesn’t hurt to check.
“Hmm. I don’t know—maybe it’s the way you tangle yourself up in knots reading for hours on end,” Soria interjects.
“Or it’s the way she feels compelled to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, even before she was changed,” Ace adds with a smirk.
Vale whispers in my ear, for me and me alone, “I could think of a few other endeavors that test your limits, little flame.”
I blush at the suggestive words, tickled as the hairs on the back of my neck are brushed by the hot breath that carried them. I shimmy in his hold—partly from the shiver he just sent down my spine, partly from nestling into the comfort his arms always bring me.
Despite the light ribbing and relaxed atmosphere, heavy thoughts press against my mind. How much had been lost? How much could these embers of magic I find myself attuning to change things for the better? And the question I have been too afraid to ask: What will unleashing its power cost me?