Episode 22
From Here to There
The train rolls down the tracks, and Rominy watches until it’s impossible to see any longer. Even when it’s out of sight, he gazes off into the distance after it. Elowyn doesn’t seem in any more hurry than he is to go back to the castle.
He’s going to miss Arisanna. Now that she’s gone, the platform already feels empty.
With a sigh, he looks back at Mother where she wipes away tears as Father rubs her shoulders.
“We should go,” Father says, and he gently guides Mother toward the castle.
Rominy turns to follow when Elowyn’s hand slides into his own.
He grips it tightly, though whether it’s for her sake or his is impossible to say.
Sadness clouds her gray eyes, but no tears fall.
The surprising urge to wrap his arm around her shoulders catches him off guard, but he doesn’t act on it.
Back inside the castle, they form a quiet party as Elowyn clings to his hand, and reality settles in more strongly than ever. Arisanna is gone. And Elowyn is here.
And she’s his wife. For the rest of his life, she’ll be here beside him. This stranger he married, with her curious ways and pointed ears. Her ready smile and ever-present compassion.
What now, though?
“How do you spend your days?” Elowyn asks as if her thoughts have followed the same course as his.
“With my father, usually.” Rominy glances at his parents again. Father has wrapped his arms around Mother now as she quietly weeps against his chest.
“You should take the day to yourselves,” Father says over Mother’s head as he rubs her back. “In fact, why don’t you take a month? Go somewhere together. I can manage alone for a few weeks.”
Rominy gapes at his father.
Travel? With Elowyn?
Alone?
“Oh, yes.” Mother perks up a little. “I’ll arrange everything. You can leave tomorrow. What do you think? The mountain chalet? Or the house on the sea? Either would be perfect for a honeymoon.”
A honeymoon?
Warmth creeps up Rominy’s neck as he glances at Elowyn, only to find a look of pure excitement on her face.
He clears his throat. “Do you have a preference?”
“They both sound delightful for this...honeymoon, as you call it. I’m not familiar with that word. I assume it has to do with traveling?”
Rominy catches the mirth in his father’s eyes before responding. “It’s a wedding trip newlyweds take.”
“So just you and me? Alone together?” Her smile grows as she looks up at him, and a thousand thoughts scream through his head at once.
Words, though. They escape him.
“Yes, dear. That’s the idea,” Father says when Rominy doesn’t respond. “It will be good for you both.”
“Where would you like to go?” Mother asks Elowyn.
Good. Let her decide. Rominy’s brain has suddenly turned to mush.
“Well, I’ve always wanted to see the ocean, but”—she glances up at Rominy—“I think I’m satisfied on that front at the moment.”
The heartlanding. She’s talking about their heartlanding. They might see the ocean every night for all they know.
“The mountains sound delightful,” Elowyn says.
“The chalet it is.” Mother wanders down the corridor, mumbling to herself about all the things she needs to do to prepare for their departure. At least that will distract her from Arisanna’s absence for a while.
“Will we get to ride the train?” Elowyn asks, and Rominy nods absently.
What did he just agree to? A month? Alone at the chalet? With Elowyn?
Stars above. He really is married now. And tomorrow, they leave on their honeymoon.
As Rominy stares at nothing in particular, Father claps him on the back and leans close so only Rominy can hear. “I’m not a young man, son. I’d like to meet my grandchildren before I go, and you need an heir.” Then Father winks and follows Mother down the corridor as Rominy looks on in shock.
Grandchildren? An heir?
“Your heart is racing.” Elowyn looks up at him with compassion in her eyes and then frowns. “Are you breathing at all?”
Is he?
She reaches for his other hand. “Deep breaths, Rominy. Then maybe you can give me a tour of the castle.”
He has to remember how to breathe first.
When Cerian said it’s a long way to Darlei, he wasn’t exaggerating. Darkness fell long ago in the Wildthorne Woods of southern Lostariel, and Arisanna tries not to let her unease become too obvious as every forest sound around them makes her jump.
It’s chilly, too. She shivers again and wraps her cloak tighter around herself as Dahlia plods on loyally beneath the sore muscles and joints plaguing Arisanna with every bump.
For a while, Cerian rode silently beside her, but his parents called him to speak to them some time ago, and he still hasn’t returned.
Few of the other elves seem eager to acknowledge her existence, though Tharios and Viala always have ready smiles for her. Somehow, she feels more like a curiosity now than the wife of a prince.
When a deer crashes through the trees nearby, Arisanna almost jumps from her saddle. She tugs her cloak even closer.
“Are you warm enough?” The sudden sound of Cerian’s voice on her other side makes her jump even higher, and Cerian frowns. “Your heart is racing.”
“You just terrified me!”
He eyes her steadily. “It was already racing. Are you frightened of the woods?”
She almost denies it. Then some inexplicable desire to be upfront with him fills her, and she sighs. “Yes. We don’t have woods like these near Levina.”
His expression still doesn’t change. At some point, they stopped moving while the others continued on ahead, and now they’re more or less alone.
“I won’t let anything harm you, Arisanna.”
She gulps and nods. A strange warmth fills her at his words.
“I’ll stay with you,” he continues. “We should reach Darlei in twenty minutes.”
Twenty minutes?
Suddenly, it feels too soon. They slept on the platform last night. Together. Where will they sleep tonight? Where will she sleep?
A crease forms between his brows as he looks at her. “What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head and forces a smile, but when she tries to assure him she’s fine, the words won’t come.
As if she can’t deceive him. The magic won’t let her.
“I thought...” He pauses as if trying to force his own words over a lump in his throat. “I thought we decided...we can talk to each other.”
Stars above. How hard was it for him to say that?
“You’re right,” she says softly as she looks down at her hands. “I...I’m nervous about where I’m going to sleep tonight.”
When he doesn’t respond, she gazes up at him again. Is that compassion in his eyes?
“Wherever you want, Arisanna. That’s what I was discussing with my parents. They think I should let you choose where we’ll live. And where you’ll sleep.”
That was a lot of words for Cerian. She gapes at him before slamming her jaw shut.
“Where we’ll live?” She assumed they’d live in Celesta. The capital of Lostariel.
“If you wish us to make our permanent home in Darlei to be nearer to your family, my parents won’t object, though we’re expected in Celesta soon for a time.”
Staying near Nunia appeals to her, but she doesn’t say that. “Where do you want to live?”
“Darlei is my home. It always has been.”
“Because it’s closer to the border? To make it easier for your mother to maintain the heartbinding?”
He nods. “We don’t need to decide tonight.”
No. At least, not where they’ll live.
Where she’ll sleep, though. That might come up soon.
Another shiver sweeps over Arisanna, and without hesitating, Cerian unclasps his cloak and drapes it over her shoulders, fastening it at her throat.
His hands are warm against her skin. A flush creeps up her neck, and he looks a little pink, too.
“Better?” he asks, and she nods.
“Thank you.”
His mouth quirks into a smile that almost steals her breath. Why doesn’t he smile more? Especially if he looks like that when he does?
“I seem to be making a habit of sharing my clothing with you,” he says. Their eyes lock, and after a few moments, he looks away first. “We should catch up with the others.”
With a nod, she nudges her mare forward, and true to his word, he stays by her side.
They still didn’t discuss their sleeping arrangements for the night.