Chapter 32 Evera #2
The hand beneath mine tensed. “What will you tell them?”
Tossing the rag she held over her shoulder, Maerel ran a hand through the loose strands of hair that fell in front of her brows. “Did that man deserve what came to him?”
“He did.”
Maerel set her eyes to the hearth. “Tomorrow, you will explain.” Turning her eyes back to him, she narrowed them. “No more lies, Lark.”
“Neirin,” he corrected.
I stroked the back of his hand with my thumb, knowing this was hard for him.
Nodding, Maerel gathered her things. “I will cover for you. Get some rest. You’re both safe here.”
The door closed behind her, and Neirin coaxed me from his lap. He stood, groaning as he did, and latched the door. Blood trickled from his wound, and the heaviness in his eyes and the paleness of his complexion spoke of his state.
“You’ve lost too much blood,” I told him. “Sit back down. Do you need help?”
Trailing a hand along the wall, he made his way back to the chair. “No, I’m alright.”
Pouring heated water from the pitcher into the ceramic bowl Maerel had provided, I scoffed. “You are not alright, Neirin.” I gritted my teeth. “You should be—”
“Dead. I know. I should be.”
I set my jaw. Instead of giving him a response, I soaked one of the clean rags and wrung it out.
The cloth steamed, and as water trickled down my arms, I became aware of how cold the room was.
I would add logs to the fire after getting Neirin cleaned, bandaged, and into bed.
No, the fire would be out by then. I sighed and set the rag back down.
Pacing to the hearth, I added a log and poked the embers.
“Why aren’t you? Dead?” I asked.
“Because you saved my life.”
I turned back to him, creasing my brow. “You shouldn’t have survived that,” I said plainly, though the words choked in my throat.
Returning to the ceramic bowl at the table beside Neirin’s chair, I wet and wrung out the rag again and wiped at the streaks on his face.
The crackling fire cast a warm yellow light across him, sharpening his features.
A part of me remained hollow, afraid. Sniffling back my emotion, I cast my eyes aside.
“It is my blood. It heals me,” Neirin said, though I knew that already. Concern hardened his expression. “Where is Calix?”
“Calix is fine. I’ve given him a tincture to make him sleep.” A knot formed in my throat. “Neirin, I thought—” Despite my efforts, the tears that threatened before broke past the barrier, and one slid down my cheek.
Neirin hushed me gently. He took the rag from my hand and returned it to the side table, hanging it over the ceramic bowl. Cupping my cheek in his palm, he sought my eyes. “I am alright now. Because of you.”
To the soft crackling of the fire, I took my time cleaning Neirin’s body, wiping him free of the reminders of the night. When I was through, he brought a clean cloth to my cheek, then to my hands. The tenderness of it released the last of my fortitude, and I released a trembling breath.
By the time we finished, the flame in the hearth was again burning low.
I added another few logs and hugged my arms, cold in the light cotton gown I wore.
My dress was ruined. It lay in a pile with Neirin’s clothes.
Maerel had left a gown for me on the dresser alongside a pair of soft, worn pants for Neirin.
He stood with his back to me as he pulled the dark pants up and tied the band at his waist. When he turned, he tilted his head slightly, and the corners of his lips curved up, revealing his dimple.
My heart leapt. How close had I come to never seeing his smile again, to losing what I’d only just found, what I was still learning the depth of?
“Do not overdo it,” I told him, and returned to his side to help him to the bed.
After cleaning his wound and before we’d dressed, I’d wrapped it. The blood loss seemed to be under control. Color had returned to his face, and though his eyes were still tired, he admittedly looked much better than he had only an hour ago.
With my aid, Neirin sat at the edge of the bed.
He leaned back and lay with a sigh. Desperately, I wanted to join him, curl to his chest, take comfort in the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my ear.
Yet I hesitated. Was it presumptuous of me to assume I could stay with him?
To share the bed with him? It seemed like such a foolish thing to worry over after all we’d shared.
But in my state of mental exhaustion, I fumbled over the concept.
“Please stay.”
Blinking to clear my thoughts, I rubbed my eyes with my knuckles. “Are you sure?”
“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
There was vulnerability in his words. My heart flipped, and with one last glance at the fire to assure myself it was going strong, I climbed onto the bed.
Crawling forward like a child, I collapsed into the soft blankets with a grunt.
Neirin huffed with his amusement. I let out a weary breath, and he drew me against his chest, pulling a quilt over us.
“Rest,” he said and kissed my forehead.
Curling into his warmth, I yawned. My head fit into the crook of his arm in a way that felt so incredibly natural. Right. Like we were made for each other.
Trailing my fingers over the lightly raised lines of the scars left by Astraea, I hummed. “How does no one know about the Queen? About her messengers— and what they are?”
“To my knowledge, only the children and I know. They will not speak of it because they rely on her, on the blood—my blood—she supplies them with.”
A lump formed in my throat, and I retraced one of the faint branching lines. “Is this truly the only way to aid the children? It … it makes me sick to think of what happened to you and what is still happening to them.”
There must be another way.
Neirin fell quiet. The steady rise and fall of his chest lulled me.
“I cannot attest to her conscience, nor can I make claims as to what is right or wrong in this. It is complex and, in truth, it seems there is no good solution. Though I despise the woman, I believe in her mind she considers what she is doing to be right.”
“How did an Alidian become a Queen? How did she keep the secret so long?”
“Astraea comes from one of the most influential houses in the western lands. Her marriage to the King was arranged for political reasons. While I do not know all the details of her past, I am aware that great wealth can afford significant discretion. When she came to the capital, my mother accompanied her as a lady’s maid.
No doubt her source of blood before I was born. ”
Nuzzling into Neirin’s neck, I sighed.
“I must tell you something else,” Neirin said, a sound of hesitation in his voice. “I must tell you who my brother is, who my father was.” He swallowed, and I remained quiet, letting him speak. “My brother’s name is Harlan. And my father…” He released a breath. “My father was King Kaius.”
I sat up, all weariness gone, and gawked down at him. “You mean to say you are a prince? That is”—I shook my head—“not believable.”
The corners of his lips quirked before laughter spilled out. The sound was rich, came from deep in his chest, and danced in his eyes. The dimple on his cheek warmed my heart.
“I’m not a prince,” he said when his laughter ebbed. “As I told you before, I have no name. I’m a bastard. I have no right to the throne, and I don’t want it. It belongs to my brother.”
“You are being truthful?”
“I am, Evera,” he said, the seriousness returning to his features. “Lie back down.”
I curled against him again. “None of this feels real. Feels possible.”
“It is a lot,” he agreed.
Trying to piece things together, I twisted a curl of Neirin’s hair with my finger. “Your mother, then, she was the King’s mistress?”
“Yes. My mother was like me, a shifter. She carried the blood of the gods. Before I met you and learned of the bonds, I didn’t know what she and my father shared.
Though it was evident that he grieved for her even after all these years.
I understand why now. They were mates.” Neirin nuzzled the top of my head.
“Your mentor spoke of infertility. Does that mean Harlan …”
“Harlan is the late King’s son. Or, at least, I have no reason to believe he isn’t.
The infertility only affects shifters. Just as I could have a child without you, you could not have one without me.
Your father, being human, would have been able to have a child outside of his bond, would have been able to have a child with Astraea. ”
He hummed thoughtfully, as if my explanation resolved all questions. I huffed a laugh.
“What amuses you?” he asked, tone lighter as he pressed a kiss to my head.
“The absurdity of this all,” I answered. “Each time I learn something about you, you become more elusive, more … impossible.”
“Impossible?”
“Yes,” I said flatly.
“I do not mean to be elusive.” He stroked his thumb at my shoulder. “But I understand why you would feel that way. It is fair.”
Sighing, I gazed out the window. Only the murky blackness of night and the shadows of branches and leaves were visible through the glass panes.
“What of the man in the garden?” I asked. Though absolutely everything about what Neirin had just said was life-altering, what I needed to understand most was his character.
Quiet befell us. Embers popped and crackled in the hearth, and against the windows, a faint patter announced the start of rain.
“You saw him?”
Clenching my jaw, I nodded into the crook of his neck.
“And do you know what it means when a man is executed in such a way?”
The knot in my throat returned, thick and choking as images of the rod impaling the man through the chest came to my mind. “No.”
“That man—” Neirin cut himself off. “He took girls, forced them. That is why his body must be found. It’s a small penance for those he hurt. To be impaled as he is, is a mark that tells who he was as a man, what he died for.”
“Like the other man you spoke of? Back in the stable?”
“The man I killed for my blooding? Yes. Such men don’t deserve to live.”
Outside the windows, the rain picked up, and a wind howled, echoing through the chimney. My fingers returned to tracing the faint lines of Neirin’s scars. “I thought perhaps you’d discovered the assassin.”
“No,” Neirin confessed. “I considered his father, the commander, but now”—he wet his lips—“I am left without any reasonable suspect. It will be harder for my brother to take my word, I presume, if I cannot reveal the assassin.”
“But you must return regardless, yes?”
“Yes. If someone is after the throne, Harlan’s life may lie in the balance. I cannot abandon him.”
“I understand,” I said. “I would risk my life for my brother as well.” And that’s what it would come to for Neirin—risking his life. To save a King.