Chapter 26
JO
The clock on my desk ticks the night away until the sky begins to lighten, the rising sun casting a haze of gray across the sky. I tap the end of my charcoal pencil against the parchment on my desk.
My mind has been spinning all night, sleep a futile endeavor.
After Acker left, Fredrich gave me a wolfish grin, and after making a teasing remark about hoping my Match had as much fun as he did, he left before any awkwardness set it.
I still can’t believe Acker was able to withstand the three layers of mangi I was wearing.
On the rare occasion I’ve removed the stones from my body, it felt as though the far end of the tether was unmoored.
Like a fishing line that snapped in the ocean.
I’ve never tried to follow it, assuming any attempt would be in vain, knowing how smothering the mangi can be.
But Acker’s found a way. He’s conditioned himself to withstand the power of the stones.
It’d be impressive if it wasn’t horrifying.
My mind is in chaos as I try to untangle the memories.
There were so many nights I’d awoken from a dream that felt too real.
Or mornings where I’d find something wasn’t where I’d left it the night before.
Letters shuffled around on my desk, texts open to a different page, the blanket pulled over me when I had no recollection of covering myself.
Mind tricks meant to torment me, to figure out my agendas.
But the haunted look on his face when he saw me with Fredrich has polluted my mind, filling me with doubt.
That moment when he realized there was nothing he could do to stop Fredrich.
Despite that, I don’t regret my decision.
Not with the way Acker’s gaze had heated and he decided to give rather than take away, as if it were his taste and his voice and his touch driving me to the peak, eclipsing everything else.
I look at the ticking clock once again. I’m supposed to meet Messer for conditioning soon, but there are only a couple of hours left before Drake is due to escort Acker and Irina to their awaiting ship.
I’ve spent all night wavering over whether or not Acker deserves to know the full depravity of his father’s doings, or if he’ll just use the knowledge to further hurt me.
I suppose I’ll find out.
By the time I get dressed and make my way to the stables, the sun has made its full appearance. The stable boy is unprepared to see me at this hour of the day, but he’s quick to get a gelding tacked and ready for me. I slip him a couple of coins as an apology for disrupting his morning chores.
The horse handles well as I push him into a full gallop once we’re outside the city.
The wind is frigid, the sun not yet having had the chance to burn off the early morning chill.
I head east toward the farmlands, where the river flows from Mount Zallis and curves far inland before swooping back toward the gulf.
Farming families flourish near the fresh water.
Cottages dot the landscape, but there’s one in particular I’m interested in.
Once I see it from a distance, I stop the gelding, allowing him a moment of rest and a drink from a shallower stretch of the river.
I refill my waterskin and take the opportunity to wash away the fine layer of sweat that chills my skin.
I wipe my forehead dry with the back of my riding glove before I remove them both and stuff them in my pocket.
As I reach for the layers of stones around my neck …
I hesitate. I chose not to take them off the entire way here just in case I changed my mind, but now is the moment of truth.
I decide to quit letting doubt dictate my decisions.
I take off the necklace and then the gyve, having to lift my shirt to pull it from around my abdomen.
My magic immediately responds, coming alive below my sternum, warming me from the inside out.
A slight glow radiates from my hands as I prepare my mind to split, for the Bond to take me to Acker of its own volition.
But when long moments pass and nothing happens, I feel for the tether.
Unlike how it’s felt for years, lax and unattached, it’s now clearly anchored to the other side.
Keeping a hand on my horse’s reins, I follow it.
His voice reaches my ears before I see him, inflamed temper evident in the way he clips his words.
“—told you I would, didn’t I?”
When I open my eyes, I’m standing in the bedroom of the cottage. Acker’s pinched gaze swings to me instantly.
I’m relieved they’re at least dressed.
Irina doesn’t notice the shift in his demeanor. “If I get on that ship, I’m never going back home, Acker, and you know it.”
His eyes never leave me, as if we’re the only ones in the room. “Let me talk to Jovie. I believe after last night she owes me a favor.”
Arrogant of him to assume …
“She wants to return to Strou?” I ask Acker.
“Yes,” he says with a small nod.
Catching on, Irina’s eyes widen as her gaze flits about the room, but of course she’s unable to detect my presence. “Please,” she pleads, knuckles white as she grips the footrail of the bed tightly.
I consider the odds that they’re hiding motives unknown to me, but I can’t think of any reason Irina returning home would benefit either of them.
“I have something to show you,” I tell Acker.
He looks at Irina. “Give us a moment.”
She’s not happy with the lack of engagement from either one of us regarding her situation, but at least she knows better than to push.
Acker shuts the door behind her. A new tension settles over the space between us.
When he left last night, it was with a look of mixed anger and desire, and it seems he’s still battling with himself, unclear on which emotion supersedes the other.
“There’s someone I need you to see,” I say, before he’s able to decide.
“It wouldn’t be the executioner, would it?”
I’m surprised by his levity, and I shake my head with a small smile. “No, but you may witness my own life end, depending on what kind of mood she’s in.”
“She?” he asks, stepping closer.
“It’ll make more sense if I show you, instead of trying to just explain.”
He eyes the open pack on his bed. “I’m supposed to be getting on a boat in an hour. By your order,” he reminds me.
“Yes, but I can’t let you go back without knowing everything. We should have plenty of time if you follow me through the Bond.”
For the first time since I appeared to him, his defenses lower the tiniest amount, and he nods in acquiescence.
He sits on the bed with his back to the headboard, feet crossed at the ankles and hands folded over his stomach.
There’s something so inherently primal about seeing him laid out on a bed that I take a fraction of a moment too long to look away.
He smirks. “After you,” he directs.
Back in the field, I refocus on the reins in my hands and the wind in my hair. Acker appears moments later, blinking against the sun. He takes in our surroundings and the cottage in the distance, before setting his dark eyes on me.
“That’s where we’re going,” I say, nodding toward the cottage.
I lead the horse by reins, and the gelding moves smoothly beside us as we traverse the field of tall grass.
I’d expected things to be awkward between the two of us after last night, but we fall into a comfortable silence.
Even during those first days when he was hiding in my shiel in Alaha, after I broke him out of the brig, it was easy to be in each other’s presence.
It doesn’t, however, make it easy to look at him. That’s more painful than ever.
My curiosity gets the best of me. “Why does Irina want to return to Strou?”
“Her life at the capital hasn’t been easy for her,” he says, walking with his hands in his pockets. “She’s homesick.”
Interesting. “And you convinced her to flee the palace with you?”
“I promised I’d do my best to get her home in exchange for her help protecting us from your armada as we crossed the gulf.”
I’m perplexed by his answer. I inspect him for any sign of dishonesty, but can’t find any in his seemingly open expression. Then I recount Irina’s pleading when she realized I was present in the room with them and it felt like raw emotion.
“I can’t help facilitate her over the Strou border,” I tell him, “But if you want to sail across the gulf to their shores, I won’t stop you. I’ll tell my armada to stand down to let you through.”
He tilts his head to look at me, and it makes me feel out of depth for a moment. “That’s very kind of you,” he says, almost as of he is shocked I’m capable of kindness at all.
Once we reach the cottage, I speak as if I’m whispering to the horse as I tie him to a post anchored in front of the short path leading to the front door.
“I can’t let on that you’re here, so don’t do anything stupid.
” I check the windows to the cottage before risking one last look at Acker. “No matter what you learn, okay?”
He must sense my nervousness because he takes my warning seriously, eyes searching my features for an explanation. “All right.”
His steps sound behind me as we walk up the stone pathway.
While none of the plants and bushes lining the path are in full bloom this time of year, there’s no mistaking the care and love that went into maintaining them.
The garden curves around the steps, along the front of cottage before disappearing around the small home.
Taking a deep breath, I knock, nerves sending my heart into a frenzy.
When the door finally opens, Grenadine’s appearance is exactly as I remember it from our time in Alaha, when she lived in the shiel below mine on Urchin Row.
Gray hair, withered features, and a hunched posture.
Her expression is as derisive as ever, a smile revealing yellowed teeth.
“Brynn,” she says. “Or do you go by Jovinnia, now?”
I lift a brow. “Either is fine. Although, ‘your royal highness’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”