Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
Rylan
At its worst, hope is the cruelest kind of torment, a brutal, single-edged knife that cuts more deeply with every unfulfilled promise and unmet expectation. Or so it appears when the sun rises on the second day of me sitting vigil by the bed, hands clasped, whispering prayers and making threats to the gods, as I stare at Eira, willing her to keep taking one more breath.
Her skin is so pale, ghostly, and her face… it doesn’t look like her without that stubborn smile she always throws my way when she’s winning an argument. She’s still. Too still. Her chest rising and falling so faintly, I can barely tell if she’s breathing.
And so I sit, biting scars into my lips, trying to calm the storm inside me. My thoughts race back to when I took her from her village all those months ago. I thought I was saving her, protecting her from a life of danger she couldn’t see coming. Now I wonder if I’ve made the worst mistake of my life. All the training, all the tests, all the risks I’ve asked her to take—maybe I’m the one who put her in harm’s way. She wouldn’t be here, fighting for her life, if it weren’t for me.
The thought cuts deeper than I can admit. I grip the edges of my chair, the helplessness gnawing at me.
A knock at the door interrupts my self-loathing. “Fuck off.”
“It’s me, and you should know better than to think I’m scared of you, prince,” comes a voice from the other side.
Astoris.
I take a breath, frustration flaring. I cross the room in two strides and yank open the door. Astoris stands there, his usual smirk absent as his eyes shift to Eira, lying motionless on the bed. For once, he’s not joking, not teasing.
“Halmor is the best,” Astoris says softly, his tone calm. “You know that. Remember where you stole him from, after all.”
I grit my teeth, unable to shake the fear clawing at my chest. “I’ll believe that when she wakes up, calls me a grumpy prick, and tells me she’s fine.”
Astoris chuckles, though it’s low, softer than usual. “You ready to admit your feelings yet?”
“What are you talking about?” I snap, trying to deflect the weight of his question.
He crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a yes. Or should I say, bringing her here is all the proof I need?”
I clench my fists. “I had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” Astoris counters. “And you chose this. Don’t get me wrong, I would’ve done the same. But don’t pretend it’s not what it is.”
Before I can respond, a soft murmur comes from the bed. My heart leaps into my throat, and I turn, rushing to Eira’s side. Her eyelids flutter, and she shifts slightly, groaning.
“Eira?” I whisper, leaning closer.
Her eyes crack open, and she squints up at me, a faint, exhausted smile tugging at her lips. “I take it... this isn’t going to help with you hovering over me, My Grouchy Highness.”
A laugh escapes me, relief flooding my chest. Astoris lets out a low chuckle from the hallway. “There’s the good news you’ve been waiting for. I’ll let everyone know she’s back.”
I barely hear the door close, my attention locked on Eira.
She’s awake. She’s alive. She’s… trying to sit up.
“Lay back down. You need to rest,” I say, my voice soft but firm. “You’ve been through enough.”
“I’m fine,” she argues, her voice weak but full of that stubbornness I’ve come to expect. “But unless you want me to get up and walk around by myself, I suggest you tell me where we are.”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “We’re in a hidden town I built called Valdyria.”
An hour later, Eira is finishing her second bowl of soup, with more colour in her cheeks, and the hint of the usual sparkle in her eyes. She chews the last bite slowly, then opens her mouth wide, showing me she hasn’t hidden any of it.
“See?” she says, her voice stronger now. “Finished. I’m ready now,” she says, referring to the deal we’d made that if she finished her soup, I would let her take a walk around the town.
I shake my head, a smile tugging at my lips despite the worry still coiled in my chest. “You’re impossible.”
“What happened to ‘she’s divinity herself, something mere mortal words could never capture?’ ” she teases, her eyes glinting with mischief.
I roll my eyes, taking the empty bowl from her. “Turns out I was wrong, there is one mere mortal word that could capture you.”
“Incomparable?”
“ Exasperating.”
She grins. “I’ll take it. I like exasperating you. Better than being boring.”
“Boring is something you need never worry about being, Eirabella Kaye.”
I help her up slowly, careful with every movement, feeling a rush of relief every time she manages to take another step on her own. Together, we escape from the room in which we’ve both been stuck for the last two days, walking out into the fresh air. The village is quiet, with most of the children in school. As we walk, several familiar faces stop to greet us.
Gerath, town crier and occasional good-natured drunk, spots me from across the square. “Well, look who’s back! It’s been months. Thought you’d forsaken us, Ry.”
“Not a chance,” I reply, smirking. “I’d miss your bad jokes too much.”
He chuckles and looks at Eira. “Good to see you’re up and about, lass.”
Eira offers a weak smile, but her eyes are alert, focused on the village, taking in every detail.
A soft holler has us turning towards the bakery stall at the end of the town square, and I wave at Lena, the owner. “About time you showed up, Ry. Thought you could stay away and forget about paying the tab at the tavern?” she says as she walks over to us, pushing a newspaper-wrapped loaf into my hands.
I know better than to refuse, so I just give her a nod of thanks and hand it to Eirabella, who makes a big show of tearing it open and taking a deep breath, breathing in the fresh-baked scent. “Can’t say I didn’t think about trying that, Lena. Especially after last time I was here and Gerald made me buy everyone a drink for his—what did you call it— ‘I made it a whole day without having a drink’ celebration?” I joke. “Don’t think it’ll work a second time!”
Lena walks away, laughing, the sound echoing through the town.
It’s strange, being here with Eira, this place that has been a sanctuary, a secret I’ve kept for so long. And now she’s seeing it, seeing me here, as I truly am.
“Wow. They treat you like family here,” Eira says softly as we continue walking. “Not like a prince.”
I nod, unsure of how to explain. “Well, here, I am just family. Just another one of them.”
“Do they even know you’re Prince Rylan?” she says, eyeing a young woman who passes, giving me a wink.
Godsdamned, she catches on fast. “Um, I think some have guessed. But if they do, they don’t act like it. And the rest probably don’t care.” She doesn’t say anything, just leans more heavily against me as she takes a shallow breath, hissing through a bout of pain. “Come on, let’s sit down for a minute.”
“I’m fine, Ry, ” she says, glancing at me out of the side of her eye as if still trying to figure it all out.
“Well, I need to sit down, I’m tired; someone kept me up making sure she kept breathing,” I say, leading her over to a stone wall that runs along the small park, just to get her to sit down.
She throws me a look, knowing what I’m doing, but sits down anyway. We sit for a few minutes as she looks around, pretending that she doesn’t notice me hyper-aware of her every breath, every hiss of pain.
“So, where, and what, is Valdyria exactly? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”
I clear my throat. “You haven’t. The only people who know Valdyria exists are me, my friend Astoris, the people who live here… and now, you. You won’t find it on any official Celadorn map. Or any map, actually. I’ve made sure of it.”
Her brow furrows as she tries to make sense of what I’m saying, but I can see the exhaustion fogging up her mind. “I don’t understand…”
“This place… it’s a secret for a reason,” I explain as I gently help her sit up slightly. “It’s a haven. Astoris and I built this village about ten years ago. The main thing that makes Valdyria different from other villages is that the people here don’t make Offerings. Most of them were cast out of their villages because they either refused to or didn’t have anything to give.”
“And you brought them here?”
I nod.
She looks at me, her teal eyes searching mine for answers. “And they just… live here? Without fear?”
“As much as that is possible,” I reply. “They’re safe. And they don’t answer to anyone but themselves and each other.”
We sit in silence for a moment. I can feel her trying to take it all in, and part of me waits for the questions. For her to tell me this is too dangerous, too reckless, that if the king ever found out, it would be my head on the block, let alone the head of everyone here. But then she surprises me.
“You built all this?” she asks quietly, her voice filled with wonder. “You and Astoris?”
“Well, we started it. The people here built it. The houses, the sewerage system, the buildings, the landscaping. A lot goes into a town that I would never have imagined,” I nod. “It wasn’t easy, but we made it work. We pooled our expertise. And we learned along the way. It turns out I’m quite handy with a hammer,” I say with a chuckle, remembering the injured thumbs I endured when we started this endeavour though. “Ironically, we could’ve used some magic wielders, but then they wouldn’t be here if they could wield magic. Well, not most of them.”
She shakes her head, her eyes filled with questions. “But… I don’t understand why? Why did you create this place?”
I stand, rolling my tired shoulders and spin on my heels, looking around at the town park, which was once covered in nothing but clay, dirt, and brush. “Because I saw a need. It’s really as simple as that.” I reach over and pick up a purple daisy from the nearby brush, twirling it in my fingers, remembering the day we saw the first bloom almost a decade ago and thinking that maybe, just maybe, we could make this place livable.
I hand the flower to Eirabella and continue, “I have been going on Collections, either as a guard or just to observe, ever since I was fifteen. There always seemed like there was something… wrong about it all. To be taking magic from people, even if it were to bolster the collective strength of the kingdom. For money. You were both right and wrong that day you told me that you didn’t think it was the right thing to do, Eirabella. You were right to think that there is something inherently wrong with the Offerings system. But you were wrong in that you don’t always need to have something taken away before you know the value of it. I have always known the value of my magic. And I’m lucky that I am not expected to make any Offerings, because I would never give it away for anything. Well, maybe one thing, to save someone I love. But nothing less.
“Anyway, on these Collection trips, I would come across people who couldn’t give, for numerous reasons. Either they didn’t have any magic, like you, or a myriad other reasons. And as you know, the king rewards villages who give the most on Collection Days, creating an atmosphere of toxic competitiveness, especially with neighbouring villages. Instead of something that should be an instrument, we were encouraging hostile rivalries. There were reports of even sabotage against villages. But what made it worse is I would often come across families or individuals that were being shunned by their villagers for not making Offerings. Such are the hidden consequences of my father’s ridiculous Offerings decree,” I say, unable to keep the loathing from my voice.
She gasps. “That’s terrible! I mean, I knew some of the people in my village used to tease me about my lack of magic; maybe some even resented me, I don’t know. But nothing so bad as to treat me differently.”
I shrug. “You were lucky. Offerings were never meant to foster this kind of negativity. It was always supposed to be something that was done out of love of kingdom, not coin. The compensation was only ever meant to be symbolic. But that’s not the nature of man. And… the kingdom, the king , took advantage of that.”
“Have you told him how you feel?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
I flick my eyes to hers, their teal depths so soft and tender. And I find myself telling her, “And… not all the scars on my body are from the battlefield, Eirabella.”
“Oh, Rylan.”
I drop my head and say the words I’ve never said aloud to anyone else. “I hate him. He had never been much of a father to me. But he’s the king. And my mother’s husband. And my life will always be bound to his. So…I built this place, as my way of doing right by the people. Until I can do more.”
She flinches, then tucks the flower behind her ear before reaching for my hand and laying her face in my palm. “They must be so loyal to you here. I bet they’d go into battle for you.”
“Perhaps. But I’d never ask them to.”
Her head nods against my hand. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down, Prince Rylan of Celador.” Her words catch me off guard, and a stirring warmth spreads through my chest. But what she says next is what takes my breath away. “You’re everything I could want in my future king.”
I freeze, the words sinking in like lead. Future king. The title feels heavier than it should. I know what she’s saying—what she means. But it’s a weight I’ve been running from, not one I’m ready to carry. Elara was wrong. I have no desire for the crown, not yet. I want only the chance to do right by my people.
She lifts her head and presses a soft kiss to my cheek and rises to her feet. “Come on, Ry . Show me the rest of your wonderful little town.”
We slowly meander through the village, and everywhere we go, people smile, wave, or stop to talk to us. Here, there are no titles, no obligations. Just life. Simple and free.
Eira takes it all in, her eyes softening as she looks up at me. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
I swallow, the weight of it all pressing down on me. “There’s no one else I could have wanted to know about this place, no other person I would have wanted to see this side of me.” I take a deep breath. “No one else I would’ve trusted.”
She’s silent for a moment, then leans into me, her exhaustion showing again. I gently guide her back toward the house, my hand resting on her shoulder.
“I have to go to Larethia tomorrow; I should have arrived yesterday,” I remind her, my tone gentle but firm. “And I want you to stay here. You’re not ready to travel yet.”
She raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile on her lips. “You can try that, but when you come back, I’ll have stolen a horse and followed you.”
I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head, not doubting her for a moment. “I should have you thrown into a dungeon.”
“You mean the ones watched by the King’s Guards? And captained by my dear friend, Mathis?” she teases.
I growl, knowing that he does indeed have a soft spot for her. “He’s supposed to be my dear friend, Mathis.”
Gently poking me in the ribs, she teases, “Oh, he is. Until he has to choose between us.”
I shake my head with a laugh. “Well, consider that argument settled. Fine, you can come with me tomorrow. But for now, you need to rest. You’re not getting out of that.”
“Of course, I’ll go lie down on the bed, my prince. Anything you say, my prince,” she giggles, with a cheeky glint in her eye. And I have to remind myself that she’s still healing and not quite ready to do “anything I say” just yet.
But for her, I can wait.
For her, I can do anything.