8. Chapter 8
We should have been happy that we’d defeated more vile urthen. Happy that Sury was okay. But something lingered in the air that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Perhaps it was the prospect of our first meeting with someone who could hopefully help revive my sister’s broken court. Would Beralt be on our side, or would he betray us? With his absence at my sister’s coronation ceremony, did he know all that had transpired, or was he a part of the plan?
Or was it something more that drove our silence?
The scene from the other night kept playing in my mind.
Flashes of me taking the lives of the walkers and the feeling it had given me.
Flashes of the lives I wanted to take. Seeing Sury knocking on death’s door—how many times would Cisoi forgive us for robbing what was his?
My thoughts continued to swirl, even to the moment when I took my misplaced anger out on Fyom.
My heart sank as the images played over and over.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into my cup. No one said anything or seemed to have heard me. I looked up at Fyom, who sat there uncharacteristically quiet. “Fyom,” I said a little louder, catching his attention. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes widened slightly, taking me in with an unreadable emotion on his face. His large hand reached out to mine and uncurled my fingers from my mug, fully encasing his palm over my hand. “Are you okay, Ophelia?”
There it was. No one except Peiro called me by my full name unless something was the matter.
“Aside from everything going on? I’m fine.” The lie tasted bitter against my tongue.
Yes, tell them that you’re hearing voices in your head and how you were so close to taking your sister’s life essence.
Yes, please inform them how your power is growing stronger than they realize and how you enjoyed the taste of the lifesources from those urthens.
The euphoria. A cackle ricocheted inside my mind.
The voice of neither man nor woman, but simply there, slithered against my innermost thoughts.
You’re so hateful. Leave me alone, I bit back to the voice.
Me? Oh, Princess, I’ll never leave, it cackled again.
“Ophelia? Did you hear me?”
My eyes snapped to the bright green ones in front of me. Pressure on my fingers increased, bringing me back to the table and those beside me. “Yes.” I swallowed, feeling the ache of a dry throat.
Without thinking, I downed the contents of my cup and wiped the remnants with the back of my hand.
My giants—this did taste how I assumed piss would taste like.
“I’m sorry for my outburst earlier. My emotions were…
uhm…high. I didn’t mean to snap at you, friend,” I said as I removed myself from his grasp and lightly laid my hand on his shoulder with an enduring squeeze. “Excuse me. I need some fresh air.”
I jumped to my feet, feeling my head instantly lighten, and pushed through the flap and into the night air.
My skin was met with the cool breeze, causing small pebbles to rise along my arms and back where sweat had formed.
I looked up into the trees, seeing the stars peak through the limbs and illuminate the sky.
Out in the distance, I could faintly make out the moon hiding behind a swirl of clouds.
Another breeze tore through the forest again, whipping my hair behind me and cooling me further.
I closed my eyes as I took it all in. I didn’t even notice my body begin swaying side to side, lost in a trance to a solemn tune only I could hear.
How I missed my music box back home. How I missed visiting the Grian Theater and listening to the new compositions created by various musicians.
I recalled the violin that brought forth a range of emotions, from joy and pure bliss to something broken and yearning.
My feet twirled and stepped to the unheard melody.
A smile crept up my face as I envisioned the colors surrounding each note.
I turned too quickly for my failing balance and stumbled over my own boot.
Before I crashed to the ground, strong hands grabbed me by the waist, steadying me on my feet.
I straightened myself only to hit a solid force at my back. A deep chuckle vibrated against my ear as the fingers curled tighter into my waist. “Easy, princess.”
“I thought I told you not to call me…” I slurred. Wait. I slurred? Shit. “Not to…call me…by that. Tittle.”
“Tittle?”
“Title!” I said hastily, trying to correct myself.
“Isn’t that what you are?” Peiro said into my skin as his lips found the tender spot beneath my ear, inducing a new wave of shivers.
“You can call me by my full royal name once we’re settled back at the Frian…” A hiccup escaped my throat. “Grian… Grianmore Castle! Until then…the tittle is off limits.”
“Deal.” Peiro chuckled again. “You know, you’re rather adorable when you’re inebriated.”
“I am not inebriated.” I scoffed, pulling out of his grip and turning to face him. Once again, my feet had other plans and felt numb underneath me. Peiro’s arms caught me before I could sway again and brought me close to his chest. I threw my arms around him as I looked into his eyes.
Even in the night sky, I could see the silver ring growing larger and pulsing around his irises. “You’re quite beautiful. Did you know that?”
“Hmm. I believe that is a new one for me.”
“It’s true,” I said, angling my head back, more to see.
I unhooked my grip from around his back and used the fingers of my right hand to trace the planes of his face, taking in the sharp angles and the beard that was becoming thicker and more unruly than our time in the forest. “I think you’re the most magnificent thing I’ve laid my eyes on.
Cisoi incarnate,” I finished with a smile.
Peiro caught my hand and placed a tender kiss on the inside of my palm. His eyes shifted, scanning my features, and he tucked a stray hair behind my ear. His hand stayed there, resting at the side of my neck as he continued to take me in. “Are you well, moonlight?”
My smile faltered before I pasted a fake one back on my face.
“Why, of course. I guess just a little too much of that piss tea. I mean, I’ve never tasted piss.
But I would assume this would be the equivalent of it.
But the effects are quite marvelous, don’t you think?
Fyom really is a genius. I must ask him what—”
“Ophelia,” Peiro cut into my endless mumbling. “Look at me. Truly.” My gaze snapped to him. I felt a pressure build as those silvers called to me. “Why don’t you want Fyom to know?”
I stomped in frustration. The act sent a strong jolt through my foot and up my leg with a harsh sting. “Because I just…don’t.”
“You’re going to have to do better than that.” Peiro placed his arms across his chest, causing his muscles to flex tightly. I absolutely hated how much that one small action made my toes curl and heart flutter as an internal heat began to rise.
Peiro sighed and then fumbled with his pocket. “Here. I have a gift,” he said as he produced a small vial of gray liquid. “Counteracts the properties of the bindweed. Will right you in a few minutes, with a minor side effect.”
Without hesitating, I took the vial and downed the contents. A viscous slime coated my throat and made me gag, but surprisingly it tasted just like grapes.
As we waited for the tonic to kick in, words began to tumble out of my mouth faster than I could catch them.
“I don’t want his pity.” Suddenly the concoction acted as a truth serum of sorts, forcing my words to spill out.
“And if I say it out loud to anyone else, then I’d have to admit I’m not in control. ”
“No one pities you. You’re the strongest damn warrior I have ever seen. The common soldier would cower at the thought of facing what you endure.” Soft yet strong lips crashed into mine. My fingers curled in his hair as I drank Peiro in, ever anchoring me to where I needed to be.
Maybe that’s what I did for him, too: kept him tethered to the world where things were real and good and kind.
“Take me into the woods,” I whispered into his kiss.
“You really have gotten greedy.” He smiled lightly against my lips.
“Dammit, Peiro. Now,” I said as I gripped tightly onto his shirt.
He sighed again. “As much as I would enjoy nothing more than to see your naked skin against the moonlight, having an inebriated female is nothing I find enjoyable.”
“You’re no fun.” I pouted unabashedly.
“Plus, you have an important day tomorrow.”
“I hate you,” I said as the fog continued to clear my mind—a clear sign that the makeshift antidote was working its own magic.
“I don’t think you said that the other night when you panted my name. What was it? Yes, Peiro. Don’t stop.”
I slapped his arm hard, bringing only a stinging pain to my own palm. “I did not say that. I was only toying a moment ago, but now I really do hate you.”
I moved to slap his arm again only for it to get caught in his grip. My balance wavered as I tumbled into his chest. “Say it again.”
I narrowed my eyes at him as his own practically twinkled in delight, which only fueled my frustration.
Challenge flared in his eyes as he was clearly enjoying our little game.
I was just about to say something uncouth as he leaned in.
“Get through tomorrow, moonlight, and I’ll make sure hating me is the last thing on your mind.
” The corner of his lips smirked into that smile I was so intensely falling for.
“Promise?” I asked, a dare lacing my voice.
“Every last desire,” Peiro said as he leaned in and gave me one final toe-curling kiss.
It was moments like this that made me absolutely hate sharing a tent with the others.