Chapter 26
I had been tapping my foot and huffing and sighing for the past half an hour. And not because Aegir was late, but because I was early.
My belly felt like it held a kaleidoscope of butterflies against their will and they were threatening to rip out of me.
“If you keep tapping your foot like that, you’ll leave a hole in the floor,” Aegir said. I deflated at the sound of his voice.
He threw an apple at me. I handed it back. “I might throw up.”
“Looks like someone is overly excited.”
We exited through the southern gate. I whispered, “You have no idea. I tried convincing myself that someday I would find a way for her to be healed, but if I’m being truly honest, I never fully believed it myself.”
“Good thing you’re Lady Stonehead, then. You don’t give up easily.”
“Funny.”
“No, I’m serious. You’re capable of doing whatever you set your mind to. You know, Lady Wildheart is also very suitable.” I had always thought of my surname as a sort of irony—a joke. And here was the Prince of Silch, telling me that it suited me.
“What’s with all the names?” I asked.
“Well, it’s impossible to describe you in one word.”
“It’s impossible to describe anyone in one word. I think we are more complex than that.” I surely couldn’t describe him in one word.
“Going all smart on me now?”
I lifted my gaze and gave him a smug smile. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“Today,” I whispered to Cinnamon, giving her the tightest hug.
Noticing a slight tremble in my hands, I hid them behind my back, just like Clara did whenever Mounir got close. Aegir placed a saddle on Cinnamon’s back and fastened its straps, then secured the girth and stirrups. He adjusted her bridle, then extended his arm towards me and asked, “Ready?”
My brows drew close. “Uh, shouldn’t you heal her leg first?”
“She’s healed.”
My lips wobbled. “What do you mean she’s healed?” I breathed. I knelt next to her leg, eyes blinking as I inspected every inch of it.
“I mean, her leg is working just fine. I healed her already.”
“Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?”
“Well, I guess it’s because…I’m selfish.”
“Your words do not make any sense.”
“I couldn’t stay yesterday…and…I wanted to be here, to watch you, when you rode her again.”
My face flushed. Then I whispered to him, “She’s healed.” It came out more like a reassured question.
He offered me his hand once more. “Yes.”
“When did you heal her?” I asked quietly.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. When?” I pressed, my tone unsteady yet firm.
He let his arm hang at his side once more. “That night, the day when you were—when I…”
Why was the Ice Prince stammering?
“After you came here for the first time?” I continued for him. Our eyes locked.
“Yes.”
But he hated me back then.
Instead, I found myself saying, eyes teary, “I knew she seemed better. I was sure she did. You—you…all this time. I wish I’d known.”
“I—I wanted to tell you, I really did. But I swore not to reveal my healing powers. Then I was hoping for you to ask, but it seems that you have settled for a bargain instead.”
“I couldn’t just ask.” He had given me—us—so much already. He was what kept us well-fed and safe. I just stared at him, unblinking.
“Ready?” he asked, lifting his arm once more.
“Yes!” I finally breathed, wiping away a fallen tear with the back of my hand before reaching for his.
I could tell that Cinnamon was just as excited as I was.
She remembered what the saddle meant, what me on top of her back meant.
I guided her to the paddock. We moved around its perimeter, slowly at first. Then I loosened the grip on her reins, and we moved at a slow and steady gallop, and then…
then I clicked my tongue and nudged her side, quickly wishing that I had my hair loose—that I could feel it dancing in the wind.
I let out a breathless laugh, almost hysterical, at the semblance of flying.
I cried and I laughed because she was healed, and…she was healed. He healed her.
“I’m not even going to ask if you two had fun.”
I let out a giggle, cheeks blushed with thrill. I still couldn’t believe this was all real. I feared I would wake up from such a lovely dream. There were so many days when I was certain, hopeless, that she would never be able to run again. And now—now, she could.
“It was perfect.” It truly was. “I wish I didn’t have this terrible headache, though.”
Aegir helped me dismount. “Let me,” he said, his voice low.
I gave him my back. This is it. Tears lined my eyes.
Aegir rested his palms on my head, eight of his fingertips brushing my forehead, both thumbs at the middle of my crown.
My chest swelled the moment I felt his powers moving like soft ripples of comfort that wrapped around my scalp.
My fingers went to my necklace, and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing his powers to heal my head, to bring back my memories.
“So?”
“What?”
“Your head. Is it all right now?”
“Yes—yes, thank you.” My gaze remained anchored to the floor.
Did this failed attempt mean that I couldn’t be healed?
Would the powers of the Water Priestesses even work on me?
Or perhaps the injury was beyond healing now, after all this time.
I needed answers. “So, how do your powers work? Do they heal all kinds of injuries?” I asked.
“Yes. Well, almost. There’s one limitation. Two, actually.”
“Is it time? Like old injuries?”
“No. I’ve healed injuries that were decades old with plenty of power to spare. Yet healing a burn drains the living shit out of me. And the scarring tends to remain, especially if caused by Elemental Fire.”
“Oh, I see. And the other limitation?”
“Missing body parts. Those, I can’t regrow. If I could, Alarik would speak.”
My eyes widened. Guess I wasn’t the only one with missing pieces. So for today, I had to simply be grateful for what I had. She was healed, and that was all that mattered.
Oh! And my end of the bargain.
I extended my arm, cup in hand. “Ready when you are.” Bits of ice formed, crunching at the water’s surface. I drank the whole thing.
“We bargained for one sip, you know.”
“I’d drink all the water in the world for this.”
“There’s a whole lot of water in this world.”
My smile slowly faded. “Not in my world, there isn’t.”
“For now,” he mumbled, and I tried to search for his eyes. But when he finally lifted his head, a sly grin painted his face. “Feels good to be finally forgiven.”
“Half forgiven,” I murmured.
He raised a brow and repeated, “Half forgiven?”
“If memory serves me well, I believe you also owed me one piece of silver coin.”
Aegir let out a sharp exhale through smiling lips. “Fair enough.” He fished through his bag, then held out his hand, a silver coin between his thumb and forefinger. I took it carefully.
I wasn’t done with Cinnamon. I wasn’t even close to being done. I moved to her side. “I would like to take her for a slow walk.”
Aegir nodded and gestured for me to mount.
“I’ll see you to the paddock.” Grabbing Cinnamon’s reins, he guided us out.
“You can stay with her for the rest of the day. I was challenged to a spear-throwing contest by Joel and Darius. I, of course, couldn’t refuse an opportunity to bring those two to shame.
But have dinner with us tonight,” he said, handing me the reins.
Our fingers softly interlocked, causing my heart to rush.
He was about to let go of my hand, but I tightened my grip, forcing him to halt, to look at me.
“Aegir.” I paused, and before loosening my grip, I told him, “I had already forgiven you.”
Before he could reply, Cinnamon and I were already in a full gallop.
Then I knew fun time was over the moment I glimpsed a white eagle circling into a descent.
Looks like he’s going to keep his promise.