Thirteen #2
“I wouldn’t call him a father by any stretch of faith.” Rorik looked at his nails. “What does he want? He’s spent his entire life ignoring my existence, and I quite liked that.”
“You seem rather healthy. All of you do.” Kara pointedly looked around the room until her stare landed on me. “I wonder why that is.”
Rorik stilled. Only his eyes revealed a sliver of the torrential storm that must’ve been brewing in his chest, because I felt a flicker of pure hatred trembling through our bond. “I think you should leave.”
“Oh, certainly. I don’t plan on staying.
” Kara stood abruptly and grinned. She made a show of patting her corseted vest, and then she slipped her hand into one of the pockets along her rib cage.
With dexterous fingers, she retrieved a small envelope sealed with a wax E and dropped it on the coffee table.
“I would, however, highly recommend reading that.” She nodded to the correspondence without taking her eyes off Rorik.
“I’ll give you the night to consider its contents, and I’ll be back tomorrow to collect your answer.
But do keep in mind that Lord Embergrave would be .
. . remiss if you were to decline his kind gesture.
” She slipped her hands into the pockets of her wide-legged trousers as she breezed by, pausing only for a moment at the threshold of the library.
“You were so very close, though. I hear you managed to round up all but one. I guess you can figure out where that one is.”
Her tinkling laugh rang through the air as she sauntered out.
No one moved until the front doors slammed shut.
And even then, everyone was silent for a moment longer.
So much was said in the looks shared by the Ferngloves as I stood on the outskirts of their unspoken conversation.
Finally, Rorik cursed and began to pace.
“What did she mean by ‘all but one’?” I asked.
“Attendants,” Seville said, her clipped tone full of venom. Rorik glared at her, but she didn’t balk. Lydia dropped her head in her hands and pressed her fingers firmly against her temples.
Clesian placed a thick hand over her knee before directing his attention to me.
“When the manor collapsed, several attendants didn’t return.
We don’t blame them for that, of course,” he said pointedly, giving Seville a warning look.
Seville scoffed. “They weren’t sure what to expect, and so they sought employment elsewhere.
And when you’ve worked for an Ever household before, it’s fairly easy and familiar to step into that world again.
Their new employer could strip them of our crest and apply their own, giving the attendants the same comforts they’d grown accustomed to here. ”
“The problem isn’t that they sought new work,” Lydia said as she raised her head. Her expression was haggard, her eyes far away. “The problem is what they saw here, and what they might tell their new lord or lady.”
“What they saw here?” I frowned. Orin had been a horrific partner and a monster to his family, but I’d never witnessed any sort of abuse toward the attendants.
Maybe they feared stepping out of line, but that hardly seemed like it would cause another Ever family to come calling.
Plus, Orin was dead. I’d seen to that myself when I drained the estate and the family of blight and shoved it down his throat.
Kara’s laugh reverberated through my bones. You seem rather healthy.
A dull ringing sounded in my ears as the room began to sway.
Slowly, I turned my head until I caught Rorik staring.
“You and Seville . . . you weren’t just gallivanting about Glaes for fun.
You were covering up what I did to Orin and how I cured the family.
You didn’t want the other Evers to find out. ”
Seville nodded. “We either offered them reemployment or paid them off and enacted an evervow. A life of ease for never speaking about what they saw or heard. Most didn’t witness it directly, anyway, so we thought we were fine.
But some had lingered in the woods to watch.
And apparently one slipped through our grasp. ”
“But what of the Waterstones? Ossanna clearly knows,” I said.
“She’s proven trustworthy. When a few attendants came to her estate, she alerted us immediately. If she wanted to do something, she would have already,” Rorik said.
“No one thought to tell me about any of this?” My own anger began to claw up my throat.
“I wanted to tell you immediately.” Seville shrugged and then folded her arms across her chest. “Rorik didn’t want you to have to worry about us anymore.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t say something.” My voice climbed higher, and I itched to tear apart the wall blocking his end of our heartbond so I could better understand why he’d kept this from me.
Rorik turned sharply and stormed toward me, heat turning his eyes molten gold. “You never wanted to see me again.”
The rage budding in me came to an abrupt halt. “I think this particular scenario at least warranted a heads-up, even if it wasn’t from you directly.”
“Noted.” He stared at me for a moment longer, and then he blew out a breath as he turned to his family. “Now what?”
“I think we start by opening that.” Lydia pointed one delicate finger at the envelope.
A dull ache simmered behind my eyes, and I pinched the bridge of my nose. Evers and their fucking envelopes. At least the last letter I’d opened from one of them had saved me from a fate I hadn’t even predicted. I doubted this one would do the same.
Rorik picked it up and broke the seal with ease, and his tight gaze flew over the contents in a matter of seconds.
The paper crinkled as his fingers shook.
Then he thrust it to Seville. “It’s an invitation to a coupling fete in seven days’ time.
” She snatched it out of the air and devoured the formal, looping handwriting that dominated the page.
With a long breath, she handed it to Lydia. Both her and Clesian’s faces blanched.
“They are known to host them from time to time.” Lydia shook her head. “A perfect excuse to invite the family and a potentially powerful threadmender into their home.”
“We’re not going,” Rorik hissed as he began to pace again. His agitated gait ate up the room in a few long strides, and the floorboards beneath his feet groaned as he stalked back and forth.
“Do we have a choice?” Seville asked cautiously, her stare tracking Rorik’s movements.
“I doubt they’ll take no for an answer.” Clesian ran a hand over his shorn hair before leaning back into the sofa. “It’s only addressed to Rorik, Seville, and Edira, though.”
A twinge of relief coursed through Lydia’s expression. “The girls will be safe.”
“I would’ve thought you’d want them to attend,” I said as I finally sank into one of the spare armchairs and tucked my feet beneath me.
“The Embergraves think they’re superior to everyone else because they have the most direct bloodline tying them to the first Ever.
They view marriage into that family as a gift beyond measure, even more so when a child is involved.
” Clesian’s gaze cut to Rorik, who had stopped before the bay window to brood.
“But they are not known for their kindness. Throughout the years, Evers have flocked to Stormsend and created a community of their own, hoping that one day one of their children will grab the attention of one of the Embergrave descendants and elevate them to a life of self-imposed royalty.”
“My sister . . .” Lydia pursed her lips, stealing a quick glance at Rorik before returning her focus to me. “She never really explained what happened. She and my mother went to one such fete purely to maintain a modicum of civility between our houses, and she came back pregnant.”
“That is irrelevant,” Rorik grumbled. He abandoned the window to stand behind the couch and gripped the polished frame so tight his knuckles turned white. “The point is those fetes are dangerous. And Zeverin will stop at nothing to get to Edira if he thinks she can cure him.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek for a moment.
“So we go and show him. We show everyone at the fete that you’re not healed.
” They all looked at me, and I shrugged.
“I didn’t cure you. I still haven’t figured out how to do it now, even with Rorik’s magic.
” Despite the healing pool’s best efforts, exhaustion had found purchase in my bones, and I settled deeper into the chair with a yawn. My eyelids threatened to close.
Rorik’s eyes narrowed as he studied me. Seville reached for one of the teacups and drained it, clearly not caring that it was cold.
“That may be true, but we’re still healthier than most. Likely even the Embergraves.
You might not be able to cure blight, but you certainly gave us back some lost time—and I bet any Ever would do anything to have that same gift. ”
I nestled farther into the chair. Yawned again. “Maybe.”
“We’ll discuss more later. Edira needs to rest.” Rorik moved toward me and, with annoying ease, slipped his arms beneath my body and lifted me from the chair.
“I can walk,” I mumbled with not nearly enough protest. Rorik only raised a brow, and I resisted the urge to toy with his twin dermal piercings just to irritate him.
No one said anything as we left. He carried me up the stairs, never looking down to meet my eyes, and I quite frankly didn’t care.
I was tired. And that headache was becoming bothersome, and the prospect of sleep was too tantalizing to deny.
So, I didn’t argue when he breezed into my room and drew the curtains shut.
Or when he tucked me gently into bed. I only stilled when he brushed a loose strand of hair out of my face.
“Sleep,” he whispered, his fingers still lingering against my cheek.
I fell asleep with the memory of his touch still warming my skin. And I didn’t wake up once.