CHAPTER 22 #2
He isn’t speaking of trade shipments, that much is clear.
I debate asking him what I’ll find on the ship but doubt he’ll be forthcoming.
And now that he’s dangled that tantalizing bit of information, we both know I’ll go and see for myself regardless of what he tells me.
I settle back in my chair, a hard line etched in my forehead as I debate all that I’ve just learned.
“On another note, I hear you and the general are getting close.” He raises an eyebrow and slips a powdered berry into his mouth, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he’s just turned my entire world upside down. “I thought I told you to stay away from that male.”
“Did you hear that from the sisters?” I ask.
It’s a reasonable assumption but his belly bounces with a throaty laugh in reply. “Stars, no. I’m not sure how you’ve managed it, but the sisters’ loyalty to you surpasses that which they extend to even me. They’ve been less than forthcoming with their information, on your behalf.”
I can’t help but smile at that, though the smile fades quickly from my face as I wonder what spies Felias employs at the palace.
In typical fashion, Enrik darts across the lawn to whisper something into my uncle’s ear, and I speculate if these interruptions are cleverly planned so that Felias might excuse himself at his whim.
He braces himself on the arms of his chair, rising from his seat beside me.
With a fist resting on the edge of the table he looks down at me, sighing heavily, he says, “The La’tari people are tired of dying needlessly.
I think you should know I’ve begun to hear rumblings from beyond the southern border.
I’m not sure how much longer this semblance of peace will hold.
” He licks his lips, clearly uncomfortable with what he is about to tell me.
“The war is soon to be reborn, and I fear for the lives of the fea. They are not as strong as they once were, and the La’tari have raised a mighty regime in your lifetime.
Far greater than you or I can comprehend. ”
I can hardly believe the words coming from the man in front of me, and I find myself wishing more than ever for the comfort of my blades. The La’tari trust him with my life, but every word he speaks sends a ripple of warning throughout my body.
“Are you trying to tell me that that you side with the feyn in all of this?” I ask cautiously.
It’s a bold question. One I’m likely to regret asking. If he perceives me as a threat, all he needs to do is expose me and my life will be forfeit.
“The fea,” he admits, “I’ve always been on the side of the fea.”
He looks as nervous as I feel when he turns his back to me and walks to the manor.
He said the fea, not the feyn. But is it semantics or does he really see them as different species?
He’d been brave enough to give me the truth, and maybe it’s sheer naivete when I decide not to end him purely out of caution.
I hoped to linger in the gardens for the remainder of the day but decide that it’s best to separate myself from Felias as much as possible.
It’s only a matter of time before the La’tari find out what he is and end him.
Death by association is not unheard of in our ranks.
And even if they don’t, there is every chance the man will regret revealing himself to me and attempt to end me himself.
Though I have no doubts about how that would end, I enjoy the man enough to regret the thought of it.
The guards by the palace gates say nothing as I enter the grounds, slipping into the forest that borders the western side.
I stay close to the tree line, considering the growing pains of a world I’ve always lived in and never truly known, while avoiding thoughts about why I dread returning to the palace.
I’ve only delayed my inevitable run-in with the general by a day, and I have little doubt the male will corner me for an answer the moment he’s told I’ve returned. Which, if I have it my way, still gives me a little time to unravel the mess of the entire situation.
Unbidden, the sprites join me in the forest. Their bodies seem to form from nothing when they step out of the tall bushes covered in wild spring blooms. Though a weariness clings beneath their eyes, the sisters exude a childlike playfulness as they follow me through the trees, disappearing and reappearing in and out of the lush foliage around us.
If I’d had any hesitation about what might be lingering in the forest after my encounter during the boar hunt, the sisters’ company puts it all far from my mind.
It’s after dark when I slip from the forest. While my thoughts in the woods had been taken up by the reconstruction of the world as I knew it, only one thing takes up space in my mind when the lights of the palace come into view.
The general will have been told of my departure, and I have little doubt he was told the moment I reentered the grounds earlier this evening.
I take my time, making my way across the lawns, learning the guards’ repetitious rounds, and slipping past them with ease. A prideful glee takes over when I pass the last of the patrols unseen. Keeping to the shadows, I creep among the wild, blooming foliage until I’m under my window.
It’s still cracked, and with a small leap, I snag hold of the marble lip on the first try, avoiding the male for one more day.
“The front door is open, Shivaria.” I wince at the general’s cool tone and after dangling for a moment, let myself fall to my feet begrudgingly. “You might try using it sometime.”
I take a moment to school my features before turning to face him, his brow pinching as he observes me.
“I suppose if you’ve gone through this much effort to avoid me, I don’t need to ask for your answer.”
My back stiffens, but I can appreciate that he’s being direct. Best to get it over with.
“I’m flattered by your offer,” I say politely.
“That’s a lie,” he says flatly, and I bristle at the accusation despite the fact that he’s right. I’m not flattered.
“I’ve considered it, and I feel very strongly that either one or both of us would regret it,” I say.
“You’re basing your decision off one of many possible outcomes?” he says, clearly annoyed by my reply.
“Even the best outcome between a mortal and a feyn ends in regret, General. I haven’t forgotten what I am.”
He looks me over speculatively before asking, “And if you weren’t worried about your mortality, what would you say then?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters,” he says, taking a step toward me. “To me, it matters.”
“Then you should know, it wouldn’t change anything,” I say firmly, stepping back from his advance.
My stomach twists when he flinches like I’ve struck him, but I tell myself it’s for the best.
“You mean that,” he says, his brow drawing down.
I exhale a deep breath and nod in confirmation. His jaw ticks before he does his best to soften the brooding expression creasing his brow.
“I will honor your decision, and nothing of your time here will change on my account.”
“Thank you,” I say, dipping my head and turning toward the palace entrance.
He doesn’t chase after me, and I tell myself that it’s a good thing, but when I drink down the last of Kishek’s tea and lay down to sleep, the room feels emptier than it ever has before.
I expected more of a fight from the male, but I’m glad he didn’t press me for a reason or try to persuade me. I think.
As it seems to be most every night since I’ve been at the palace, I toss and turn, sure I will be unable to find sleep when abruptly I’m taken by the void.
It’s still early when I wake the next morning, a floral steam drifting in from the bath as if the sprites knew I would rise with the dawn.
Still no sign of my demon. It should be a relief, but I’m plagued with the question of why my darkness has begun to abate.
I think I preferred it when it was predictable, even if that meant enduring my demon every day.
There is a mood among the sprites this morning. They giggle in breathy whispers, the entire conversation passing over my ears in waves. After struggling for so long learning to hear them, only to find that they could simply choose not to be heard had been frustrating to say the least.
“I’m fairly certain I’ve already told you once before that it’s rude to exclude present company from a conversation,” I scold them, raising a brow at Tig.
She shrugs, resuming said conversation with her sister, their voices no clearer to me.
Cheeky.
Tig braids a thin golden cord into my hair, banding it around the top of my head, the remaining loose curls tumble down my back.
It’s a curious choice. The fea have shown an obvious preference for adorning me with flowers but never before gold.
She plucks a handful of the last tiny, sweet smelling pink blooms from her sister’s branches and weaves them into the plait.
I wonder if the dark buds just beginning to sprout on Tig are the herb she offered to grow for me but suspect that if they are she will let me know when they are ready. It can’t be soon enough.
When Eon rushes out of the closet with a soft pink gown and a matching pair of pants my stomach pits.
For as often as I’ve wished to cover the exposed flesh of my legs, I can’t bring myself to wear the gift.
Not after last night. Not after her. I should have thought to check the closet at my uncle’s and decide that I will have to make a point to go back soon.
There is a different air in the halls of the palace today.
Guards who usually make a point to look anywhere but my face offer me smiles and nods as I pass through the halls.
Even a young feyn page slows in his hurried pace to offer me a tip of his head after raking his eyes across my body.
I briefly debate returning for the pants but quickly discard the idea, deciding that the trip to my uncle’s house will simply have to come sooner than I planned.