Episode 74 Hiding in the Shadows
Hiding in the Shadows
The urge to run fills Cerian, and for the briefest moment, he eyes the window.
Whistling wind. He can’t do that.
It’s Arisanna’s mother. He can handle her mother.
He glances at the window again before forcing his eyes away.
“My hair!” Arisanna whimpers as she combs her fingers through it.
Cerian frowns. It looks beautiful. Certainly not deserving of the panic filling her eyes.
“You...you live among elves now,” he says. Hopefully, she understands. His words stick in his throat, making it difficult to speak.
She slowly stops fussing with her gorgeous locks. “Yes. Yes, I’m married to an elf. I am married to an elf.”
“Arisanna, what is going on in there?” the queen calls through the door. “I need to see Rominy, but all anyone will tell me is he’s sleeping and something about fire magic.”
“I will explain it to you again, Yalisa, but please remain calm. We need to keep Rominy’s heart rate steady.”
That’s Father. Perhaps they can hide in here and let him deal with the anxious queen.
“I’m sorry,” Arisanna murmurs as she heads for the door.
Apparently, that isn’t an option.
Cerian eyes the vase holding the vomit and the nearly full bowl of stew before dumping both in the hearth and obliterating the disgusting glop with his fire magic as Arisanna pulls the door open a small amount.
“Mother, you’re here. Is Father with you?”
“He had a meeting he couldn’t reschedule early this morning, but he’ll be here as soon as he can. Will you tell me what’s going on?”
“Elowyn is sick, Mother. Her fire magic is…out of balance.”
Cerian frowns. That’s one way to put it. Not that Tharios used those words.
“Rominy’s heart is beating for both of them while she recovers,” Arisanna continues. Cerian edges along the room away from the queen’s line of sight while Arisanna speaks to her mother. “He’s in a magical sleep to keep his heart as steady as possible.”
“As I tried to explain,” Father says gently.
“All your talk of magic sent my head spinning,” Arisanna’s mother says. “I just want to see my son.”
“He’s sleeping, Mother. Why don’t you wait here until Father arrives? Then you can both see him together.”
And King Gerault can keep his wife calm. Surely that’s what Arisanna is thinking.
Did she just invite her mother to wait here? With them? Horror fills Cerian as he glances at the window again. There’s no way he’d make it without them seeing him.
Don’t run.
“Very well,” the queen says. “If you’re sure he’s all right. The telegram made it sound as though he were on death’s door.”
“He’s stable now,” Father says. “If that changes, we’ll let you know right away. I give you my word.”
“Thank you. I suppose I can live with that. And how is Elowyn? I don’t know her well, but after the shock of her existence wore off, I find myself with the unexpected blessing of another daughter, and I don’t want to lose her either.”
“She is strong,” Father says, though he doesn’t elaborate. “I’m grateful for your fondness toward her.”
“Yes, well...she is easy to like.”
“As is Rominy,” Father says. “And Arisanna has stolen all our hearts.”
The truth of Father’s statement warms Cerian. She’s certainly stolen his heart.
“I will leave you to her care, Yalisa,” Father says. “If you require anything, please let me know.”
Cerian freezes.
Whistling wind. Maybe no one will notice him behind the wardrobe.
He creeps into the shadows as the door opens all the way to admit his mother-in-law.
“Are you hungry, Mother?” Arisanna asks. If she’s wondering where he is, she hasn’t let on.
“My stomach is too anxious for food right now, but thank you. Are you well? You look as carefree as a bird with your wild hair and that...dress.”
Cerian frowns. What’s wrong with her dress?
She looks gorgeous in it. His hands warm as he pictures the way it hugs her in all the right places, and his plant magic prods him to let it search for her.
To run a vine the length of her perfect leg.
Few plant wielders can feel things with their magic. Not even Mother can.
Cerian can, though. When he wants to.
A tiny shoot sprouts from the side of the wardrobe, and he shakes his head, shoving it back.
That’s not helpful right now.
It’s usually difficult to draw life from dead wood, but his magic is eager enough today to make it happen.
At least he doesn’t have to worry about his plant magic setting anyone on fire.
“The dress was a gift from the Lothlesi people,” Arisanna says. “And Cerian likes my hair this way.”
He stills in the shadows. Did he tell her that, or are his feelings that obvious?
More to the point, why is she telling her mother that?
“And he treats you well?” the queen asks, her voice quiet. “He is...gentle?”
Gentle?
“Stars above, Mother.”
“I am merely concerned about your well-being. Marriage is an adjustment in the best of circumstances. With a stranger of the prince’s disposition—”
“He has the gentlest soul, Mother.”
“And you are adjusting to...everything expected of you?”
All this talk of expectations. No wonder Arisanna is full of fears about not meeting them.
What sort of expectations does the queen imagine have been placed on Arisanna in Lostariel?
“Cerian expects nothing, Mother. He truly is wonderful.”
His heart warms at her words. She’s the wonderful one.
“No expectations?” the queen says. “Have you not—”
“Mother!”
“Marriage alliances are expected to be consummated, Arisanna.”
Cerian tenses in the shadow of the wardrobe. Whistling wind. Is that what they’re discussing?
He should have climbed out the window when he had the chance.
“I never said it hadn’t been,” Arisanna says. “Can we please discuss something else?”
She can’t talk about it. It happened in the heartlanding. Perhaps that’s a mercy in disguise.
Does she not realize he’s here, though?
She must know he’s here. Where else would he have gone?
He eyes the window again.
No, she would have noticed him climbing through the window. She must know he’s hiding.
“Very well,” the queen says. “But you can come to me with questions about anything. I only want you to be happy. I know I grate on you at times, and I’m sorry. I—”
“Mother, no. I’m sorry. I know you want me to be happy. And I am happy. Happier than I ever thought possible. I love Cerian. He is kind and sweet and always gentle. I promise.”
Gentle. Of course he’s gentle with her. What sort of elf does the queen think he is?
One who glares at everyone he meets, probably.
“I find that difficult to imagine,” the queen says, “but I will take your word for it. Where is he? I would like to get to know him better.”
He definitely should have climbed out the window.
“He needed...” Arisanna struggles for words, and he sighs softly.
She knows he’s hiding.
And she’s letting him hide.
She truly is the wonderful one. Not him.
He can’t just emerge from the shadows now, though, even if he wanted to, which part of him does...for her sake.
Another knock sounds, and Cerian presses into the corner. Who is it now?
Arisanna hurries to open the door as Tharios appears, and Cerian frowns. Tharios didn’t rest nearly long enough. He’ll make himself ill if he doesn’t replenish his life magic fully.
“Tharios! You’re awake already? Are you all right?” Arisanna asks, and Tharios chuckles.
“You sound like every other member of this family. I’ll survive. Do you have a few minutes to talk now?”
Arisanna glances back at her mother.
“I’ll be fine alone if you’re needed elsewhere, dear,” the queen says.
Then Arisanna glances at Cerian. Whistling wind. She must have known where he was all along.
“Where did Cerian go?” Tharios asks with a frown. “Mother said he was with you. He didn’t run, did he? Do you need help finding him again?”
“No, he didn’t run,” Arisanna quickly says. “I know where he is.”
“He runs from you?” the queen asks. “I thought you said you were getting along.”
Cerian slides his eyes shut.
Then Tharios laughs. “I see what’s going on here. I can come back later.”
Tharios must have used his life magic to find Cerian hiding by the wardrobe.
“That may be for the best,” Arisanna says softly.
“Go,” her mother insists. “I do not need a babysitter. I will be fine here alone so you may do what you need to do.”
Arisanna looks Cerian’s way again. She’s not really going to leave him here alone with her mother, is she? He shakes his head in horror.
“I’m sure it can wait, right, Tharios?” she says.
“For now, but not for too long. I can smell the smoke and berries every time I come in here.”
What is that supposed to mean? Why does Tharios even need to speak to Arisanna?
“I think I will go for a walk,” the queen says. “Some fresh air appeals to me. Do what is expected of you, Arisanna.”
“Yes, Mother,” she says quietly, and Cerian sighs at the smallness of her voice.
The queen says a polite farewell to Tharios, and then she’s gone.
For now.
“You can come out now, Cer,” Tharios says.
Reluctantly, he steps out of the shadows. He can barely look at Arisanna. Will she be disappointed in him for hiding?
“Are you all right?” she asks, and he nods. Then he forces himself to meet her gaze. There’s only concern in her eyes, and relief fills him.
“Are you?” he asks.
A flicker of emotion crosses her face, but she glances at Tharios before forcing a smile. “I’m...”
Her words trail off as if she can’t push them out, and his stomach tightens.
She’s trying to lie, which she can’t do, not to him. She’s not fine.
“I’ll be fine,” she eventually manages.
Tharios glances between them but says nothing. Thank the fates.
Unsure how to respond, Cerian merely nods. “I’m going to check on Elowyn.”
“I love you,” Arisanna calls softly after him, and he turns to look at her with all the love he feels written in his gaze.
Hopefully, she can read the words he doesn’t say this time.