21. Can’t even grieve in peace #3
I knew immediately what I preferred, but I cast my attention back out to the pyres, trying to give Maksym the impression I was giving his offer thought. Finally, I sighed and said, “I’d prefer to be alone. Thank you, though. For all of this.”
He nodded in my peripheral vision. “Take a lantern with you on your way back? The path can be tricky in the dark.”
“I will.”
There was a long beat of silence before Maksym said with a heavy dose of remorse, “Take care of yourself tonight, Miss Wynn.”
His presence left my side a moment later, and I blew out a slow breath as crunching footsteps contended with the crackling of the pyres and trailed away behind me. I waited until I could no longer distinguish his footsteps before I took a glance back across the split in the cliffs.
It had been foolish to think Eilir and Kieran wouldn’t still be there.
As if it would have been hard for either of them to take a page out of their king’s book and give me a moment of privacy.
Thankfully, there was a small ledge a reasonable distance away from the pyres to perch on that allowed me to give my onlookers my back while I tried to mourn in peace.
I settled on the rocky surface, drawing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms tightly around them as I watched the nytefire consume, serving as such a sobering reminder of the turn my life had taken in such a short time.
Half a year ago, I’d been so foolishly carefree, taking my simple life and my father’s beating heart for granted.
I’d never fathomed I could ever find myself in Grimmoria unless under the pretense of war, and only under the banner of my home.
But that had changed so fucking quickly.
And not that the results of my strained relationship with my half-brother came as any surprise—we were each other’s antithesis, after all—but I’d assumed he’d assign me out to the furthest reaches of our kingdom indefinitely, or see me sent on vague official business in Elysia or across the chasm with no end in sight.
I’d never thought he would use me as fodder for his own personal gain.
Was there a chance Calder was swindled by the very man I was now bound to?
It was possible, as anything in life seemed to be, but I couldn’t see any tangible benefit in it for Maksym.
So, had it been my brother all along, trying to put a dramatic end to the constant reminder of the love he never got from our father?
Completely possible, if not out of character for the boy who’d never known a day of effort in his life.
I couldn’t parse the benefit for him in it all either; to kill me and his countrymen in such an elaborate ruse when there were dozens of simpler options.
Or, the least comforting option—I was fighting my way through denial about what kind of man my brother really was.
All I knew for certain was that whatever cruel act of fate had played its hand, it saw me go from a bride-to-be delivered to a trespassing criminal and bargain-bound captive in a matter of days.
I’d suffered less whiplash being bucked off wild steeds.
And that was without acknowledging the events of just that afternoon.
I desperately needed to deal with one life-altering crisis at a goddess-damned time if I had any hope of seeing a thread of my sanity intact, which felt incredibly fucking important with the tournament weighing on me.
But, of course, life wouldn’t see fit to allow me the grace of a clear mind, not even on a night like tonight, when I was watching an unworldly blue flame eviscerate the bodies of my friends and countrymen.
The pyres were only half burned, their brightness and crackling having settled significantly, when I heard the crunch of footsteps coming up behind me.
Half of me expected to see Maksym trailing back in the distance, having decided he should check on me in case I tested the temperature of the water in the strait, but the other half of me knew better than that.
Of course, it was Kieran. No Eilir, though.
Just the mage who had hurt me in ways I struggled to give form to, walking up with his hands in his pockets and an apprehensive look on his face.
He said nothing as he lowered onto the rock a few feet beside me and drew his own knees up.
I cast him a sidelong glance, and he met my gaze with his single, mossy green eye, his eyebrows drawn together and his white-blond hair messy, like he’d been running his hands through it endlessly.
And fuck, the sight of him, with that eyepatch and his scars, made my chest ache.
I lasted seconds before I had to turn my attention back to the dwindling pyres.
Not a moment of fucking peace.
Maybe he thought the silence was enough to not make his presence imposing, even though it sucked in every bit of salty ocean air around us, leaving only the acrid scent of charred flesh for me to breathe.
I knew, rationally, I couldn’t actually feel him, not when he sat feet away from me, his gloved hands braced on top of his knees, but the fucked up familiarity he exuded may have very well punched me right in the gut for how hard he made it to breathe.
It made time pass at an agonizing rate.
For as long as it took the pyres to half-burn, it took ten times as long for the nytefire to gutter.
The moon hit a peak in the night sky just as the remnants of the pyre frames began to crumble, sending flakes of blue embers and ash kicking up into the air.
When the last of the ten finally burned out, I felt all of Kieran’s suffocating attention turn to me.
“Nora,” he said in an unmistakably pleading tone.
The tension that kicked up in my jaw made it feel like my teeth were about to crack.
“No,” I gritted out. “Don’t make this about you. Not now.”
He’d already effectively ruined what should have been a solitary night of mourning, but I would be damned if he took any more of my attention from the lives that had just been lost. I’d promised myself so many damned years ago that he wouldn’t take up any more precious space in my mind, and like hell that was going to change tonight.
He let out an aggravated sigh as I pushed up from the plateau and brushed off the dusty debris.
“At least let me walk you back, please.” He was right behind me, but I was already moving to grab one of the nearby lanterns and make my way up the cascading stone. “It’s not safe, Enora. With the shifters, and the—”
“I know, Kieran,” I bit back with a glance over my shoulder, and I could just make out the wince that graced his face. “I can look after myself, just like I’ve managed to for fifteen fucking years without you. I’ll take my chances with your sick dogs.”
I trudged on ahead, not bothering to look back again, but I still heard him say, “Please stop calling me that.”