20. A devastating mirror image #3
Her hand was deceptively small for how forcefully she’d wielded that quarterstaff, but a swath of bruising was already blooming over the tops of her slim fingers.
It was a contrast I had a feeling I would find in her in endless ways, a mix of delicate edges and brutal finishings.
I didn’t dare voice it, but she had more in common with her old friend than I was sure she would ever want to admit.
A reassuring smile was not something I’d ever been credited with having, but I tried my best to plaster one on. How an Odessan felt about my horns or my eyes was to be determined—I’d had an endless slew of comments from Jasper when we’d first met—but I had to work with what I had.
“I’m Max,” I said, and Enora stared at me like I’d spoken in tongues.
“Maksym, if you’d prefer, even though I really wouldn’t.
I know we’ve clearly never met before now, but seeing as we’re going to be getting married relatively quickly, I thought you should know I enjoy reading, swimming in the coves at night, pissing off the council, and annoying the shit out of my mage and Eilir, but I try to give the sprite a break sometimes.
They’ve had to deal with my antics since before I could walk.
I make decisions that seem incredibly impulsive on the surface, but I promise, they always have well-thought-out intent, even if I never share what that intent was. ”
Clearly, I’d hit my mark with the sort of personal sharing I did not enjoy, because, despite her hand shaking in mine and her eyes still rimmed with tears, the corner of her mouth tugged up.
“Hi, Max,” she rasped.
It shouldn’t have felt as nice as it did to hear her say that, but a sliver of warmth unfurled in my chest like a leaf.
I clasped my other hand over hers, giving it a gentle squeeze, and found I didn’t have to force my smile. “Now, seeing as I heard you may or may not have had a terrible few days, I don’t expect you to divulge all your worldly secrets at this precise moment. But I trust you will in time?”
She gave me a reserved nod. “I don’t have as many hobbies as you do.”
If it wasn’t for how utterly devastated she looked behind that flicker of happiness, this would have been downright pleasant. “All in due time, Miss Wynn.” I hesitated before I added, “There is something I do need to ask you about, though.”
Her brows pulled together, but she said nothing.
“The pyres. We can reschedule them for another night.”
Enora shook her head, but I didn’t miss the resignation that passed over her face. “No. Tonight is fine.”
“As long as you’re sure...”
“I am.” Clearly, she tried to give me a reassuring smile, but it was anything but. “I don’t want them down there like that anymore. They deserve their last rites.”
“Very well. One more thing, if you don’t mind…” I rose from my perch and encouraged her up with me.
She didn’t look entirely pleased about it, but she took the opportunity to re-bundle herself in the blanket before trailing after me.
I skirted a couple of pillows that had found a home on the floor and an overturned vanity chair before stopping at the partially folded piles Eilir had clearly left on her bed in a hurry.
She came to a stop just beside me, bundled in her soft, sweeping armor, and a flicker of embarrassment passed over her face.
Whatever happened with Eilir and Gallan was not my subject to broach.
“I wasn’t sure how you mourned in Odessa.” I straightened out one of the piles. “So I asked Eilir to find a few options for you. Black, white. Blue as well, it looks like. If none of those are right, though, or if there is any other—”
She touched my arm. A light, shaky touch, but it was a little jarring. “These are fine,” she said. “Thank you, Maksym.”
Ah, right back to the full name. It had perhaps been a stretch to think I had a chance of winning her friendship so easily.
“Right, then. I’ll leave you to it.” I cast her one final, appraising glance before deciding I definitely needed to give her some space, for my benefit maybe more than hers.
I wasn’t sure if it was some weird, proxy phenomenon because of her association with Jasper, or if I had royally fucked up some part of our bargain, but I was feeling an undercurrent of obligation I didn’t want to acknowledge.
Not yet. “Do you remember how to get to the atrium on your own?”
Her brows drew together over bloodshot hazel eyes, and she glanced back over her shoulder before nodding. “I think so.”
“I’ll meet you there at sunset then.”
She gave me another nod and turned all her attention to the spread of garments laid out on her bed.
A little selfishly, I watched on for a moment as she discarded her protective blanket and started sorting through the options Eilir had gathered.
To the sprites’ credit, they’d proffered quite a selection.
A few lengthy strides took me back across her room, but I only made it three-quarters of the way to the door.
“Wait. Maksym?” she called out in her warbled, defeated voice. “I need white paint and a brush. For their bodies. And…and mourning vine, if it grows here? Or another white flower. Whatever you have.”
I turned and inclined my head. “You’ll have it all. Send for someone if you think of anything else. I’ll make sure it’s ready for you.”
Now, I had to go deal with my damned mage.