Seven
Gauzy morning light sliced through the sheer curtains over my window, and I watched in fascination as a handful of pale flower buds blossomed along the sill, opening their petals to the sun.
Vora had brought my things to my room the night before, but I hadn’t inspected it closely after my argument with Rorik.
I’d stormed up the stairs, pausing only for a moment at the final step as I recalled how Mavis used to slip quietly down the halls.
As the dying matriarch of the family, she’d been a silent, watchful eye, quietly steering me toward a truth I’d been unable to see.
She’d given me the power to stand up to Orin before she passed, and a twinge of grief plucked at my heart as I braced against the railing.
I’d set them all free of Orin’s wrath, just like she’d wanted, and that was enough.
I almost missed her unnerving, invisible stare tracking my steps as I moved to my room. But when I saw my bed already turned down and waiting, I simply changed into my nightgown and crawled into the sheets to sleep.
Now, though, I lay on my side and studied the earthly beauty.
All the furniture, from the armoire to the vanity to the low coffee table, was made of white oak.
The air was fresh and clean as if a spring rain had just cleared, and the rafters above my head were laden with the same climbing ivy as the ceilings on the first floor.
Even my four-poster bed had flowers ringing the wooden frame, and the canopy lightly draped along the top was a gossamer pale pink.
Ywena had returned while I slept, and she stirred now along the fabric.
“Morning,” I murmured to her. She chittered in response, sending me a series of images of my smiling face through our mental connection.
It was always weird to see myself reflected through her gaze.
Her depiction was filtered and warm, capturing the best version of me unmarred by sadness or the weight of my future.
Just me, moon-white hair mussed around my face, and a wide, easy grin without an ounce of worry in my dove-gray eyes.
Whenever she did this, I knew she was happy to see me.
“I missed you, too.” I stifled a yawn as I shifted in bed. “Have you been enjoying yourself?”
She let out another series of excited titters, accompanied by more images of the woods and the manor and the sprawling hills, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Well, don’t stop on my account. I’ll be busy trying to convince your daddy to help unlock my potential.
” Or maybe I’d start by checking in with Amalyss and Tasia; they’d mentioned some texts during dinner, and if Rorik wasn’t going to help, at least I could start there.
Pulling the sheets away, I slid from the bed and padded across the warm wood of the floor.
I’d just fully opened the curtains to gaze at the lawns when a sharp rap sounded, followed immediately by my door opening.
“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Vora strolled in with a silver tray in her hands.
Two steaming cups of coffee were arranged on thin ceramic plates, and cubes of sugar were stacked neatly beside dainty silver spoons and some creamer.
She set the tray on the table before settling onto the plush mauve couch.
“Back to work already?” I asked with a grin, sitting beside her.
Vora gave me a dismissive wave. “Old habits die hard, I suppose.”
“Fair enough.” I took a slow sip. “I talked to Rorik last night. He won’t be any help, either.”
She set her cup down and pressed her lips into a fine line. “Is he sick?”
I sank farther into the cushion as my chest tightened. “Yes.”
Vora cursed. Her head fell into her hands, and she held it there for several breaths before dragging her fingers down her cheeks. “How bad?”
“About the same as Seville.” Setting my coffee down, I ran my thumb along the pads of my fingers as I remembered the way I’d called on my power and examined the twirling aquamarine strands of his life force. “There’s still time. He’ll outlive us both.”
Tears welled, but she gave me a firm nod.
I reached over and held her hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.
She blew out a heavy breath, and her shoulders rolled forward.
For as long as I’d known her, Vora had always been a force.
A strong-willed, fiercely competent woman with a sense of self that sparked admiration deep within me.
I’d always known she’d cared for Rorik, but I’d never seen her break.
Not like this. But that was the problem with hope.
My curing Rorik had lulled her into a false sense of security. And I’d just ripped it away.
“I’ve never asked . . . how did you even meet Rorik?”
She smiled softly and looked toward the window, peering into a faraway memory.
“I’ve been with him for decades. He visited my town once on some errand mandated by his father.
I was only twenty at the time, and I was in the worst kind of way you could imagine.
” Her eyes fell, and she glared at the coffee table.
“My parents cast me out young. I had no money. I did everything I could to survive. He found me in an alley fighting off some men who had ideas for how I could earn some coin.” Tension flared in her hand, and I squeezed her fingers tighter to remind her that she was here with me now.
Safe. “Anyway, Rorik beat them senseless, and then he tossed them out into the streets for the town elders to handle.
I thought that would be the end of it, but he came back for me.
He was the first person to ever offer me their hand, to help me at all. And I just followed him.
“When he brought me to Fernglove, he told his family he’d hired a new attendant, and since I was already a lowly mortal, I wasn’t a threat in his father’s eyes.
Rorik branded me himself that day.” Vora peeled back the sleeve of her blouse, revealing the family crest along her arm.
With the barest of touches, she grazed the blade with her knuckles before letting the fabric fall back in place.
“I owe him my life.” She looked at me then, and the wrinkles framing her eyes seemed to grow impossibly deeper. “Living here wasn’t always easy, but it was infinitely better than what I had before. And I’d make all the same choices again if it led me right back to this manor.”
“So, you’ll come back here at some point, then?”
“Oh yes,” she said with a nod. “Not to work, despite me doing exactly that now. Perhaps when this is done, I’ll build a small cottage behind the main house and garden in my spare time.
When I left with you, Rorik essentially fired me—with an unnecessary amount of coin, of course. He wanted me to live, too.”
“Vora . . .” Emotion swelled in my throat.
She gave me a knowing smile. “He’s not all bad.”
He wasn’t wholly good, either, but I suppose there wasn’t anyone who was a true paragon of morality.
We were all just shades of gray, shifting between something darker and lighter with the choices we made and the circumstances thrust upon us.
Myself included. I’d ended someone’s life without a second thought and little—no—regret.
“I know,” I said.
“But enough of my past.” She nodded toward the serving tray. “Are you going to finish that? If not, I can clear it. I’m going to spend the day helping the attendants with a few things and catching up with some friends. Unless you need something?”
“No.” I waved her off immediately and stood. “You’re not my attendant anymore. Enjoy yourself. I’m going to meet up with Amalyss and Tasia first.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
I lifted a shoulder as I eyed the door. “Maybe Lydia has some ideas.”
Vora snorted. “Gods help you.” She reached for the tray and settled it against her hip. A quiet thread of hope wound through her voice as she spoke. “I know you’re doing this for you, as you should, but if you think of anything that can help him . . .”
“Of course.” I gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “I don’t want him or Seville to die.”
She let the door close gently behind her. I wrapped my arms around my stomach as I stared at the space where she used to be. Her story was still on repeat in my mind. The fear she must have felt, the relief when Rorik pulled those men off her. My heart twisted painfully.
My feelings toward Rorik were as conflicting as his shifting moods.
I dressed quickly, grabbing a smooth pair of silken pants and a loose, long-sleeved blouse from the armoire.
Then I traveled down the hall to a set of double doors I recognized as Amalyss and Tasia’s quarters.
After a quick knock, they called for me to enter, and I stepped into the room.
With vaulted ceilings and countless open windows, the space was bright and airy.
Two canopy beds manned the walls on either side, and a few heavy shelves of white oak framed the main bay window.
Weathered books were neatly tucked among vases full of flowers and golden bookends.
Amalyss and Tasia stretched out on an enormous fur rug before a marble hearth, and they had a small stack of tomes beside them.
“Edira,” Amalyss said with a smile. “How was your first night back?”
“Fine.” I sank to the floor beside them, crossing my legs and placing my hands in my lap. “What are you up to?”
“Helping to the best of our abilities.” Tasia had a book cracked open before her and flipped aimlessly through the pages. “I’m guessing Rorik was useless, as per usual?”
“That would be correct.”
“Asshole,” Amalyss muttered. “Well, we pulled a few books that mention heartbonds and family magic.”
I reached for the first book on the stack and flipped it open to find the title: A Beginner’s Guide to Familial Magic. “Your mother taught Clesian about Fernglove magic after they bonded, right?”
Tasia nodded. “She and Father went to town on an errand, but they’ll be back soon.”