26. Veiled threats and olive branches
VEILED THREATS AND OLIVE brANCHES
MAKSYM
“Oh, it’s not good, Max. It’s not good again.”
Eilir was going to go bald at this rate.
They materialized in the war room just seconds earlier, startling the ever-loving hell out of Gallan and me, and immediately dropped two of their head leaves onto the table.
That was three in a damn week.
I pulled a loose sheet of paper over the map we had just been mulling over and fixed Eilir with a pointed look. “What is it?”
The sprite let out a noise, as if it were deflating, and flopped onto the table with a dramatic thud.
“Nora and Jasper. They were going at it again, bickering back-and-forth, back-and-forth. And she was mad at him, and he upset her real, real bad. Then… And then—” Eilir sucked in a breath. “He showed her his…his…”
The sprite pointed at its stomach, and I knew immediately that Jasper had fucked up in a way I didn’t think anyone was equipped to deal with. Gallan walked away with a tsk as I braced my hands on the table, hanging my head. “He didn’t.”
“Oh, he did,” Eilir sighed. “She’s so upset. So, so upset. Stormed right out of the archives. She’s in that gigantic bed all by herself now, crying her poor eyes out.”
When Jasper made me agree to let him determine when Enora found out the truth about his departure from Odessa, I’d desperately hoped he would handle it with tact, wait until it made sense to deliver the information to Enora, and deliver it delicately.
Clearly, that hadn’t happened.
From beside me, Gallan let out a whistle and dropped into a chair. “I’m sure that wining and dining is going to go swell tonight, my liege,” he chuckled. “Godspeed with that.”
Fuck. There went that entire well-intended gesture.
With the assumption Enora and Jasper’s time in the archives wouldn’t go terribly, but also maybe not well, I’d thought it wouldn’t hurt to have dinner alone with Enora, perhaps as a do-over from the last awful time I tried to host her, when my nerves were fried, and I was drained from filling the wards.
We were, after all, going to be married one day soon.
There was no better time to build that bridge than now.
I hadn’t thought their studying would go that badly, though.
“Oh no.” The sprite shook its head at me. “Whatever you were planning on, you cannot seduce her like this. I think she’ll take your head, especially after your last dinner.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “Thank you, Eilir. I was not planning on seducing her.”
“You could always take her to Embervale,” Gallan piped up with a shrug. “She seems like the type to lose herself and her woes happily in the Wench.”
“No—I mean, yes, she seems like the type. But no, I won’t be taking her to a fucking tavern.”
Gallan held up his hands in defense. “Look, I’m just trying to help you out with these early marital struggles.”
“Yes, help,” I scoffed. “That’s definitely what you’re trying to do.”
Fuck, I just need a minute to think.
Wining and dining in the traditional sense was no longer a viable option. But neither was leaving Enora stewing alone in her room after Mina only knew what Jasper had said to her when he showed her his exile brand.
The Agōn Ferr was happening so soon.
We couldn’t afford to have Enora slip now.
She needed to be focused and clear-headed, Jasper be damned.
She needed to be learning and training, absorbing everything around her. For her sake and for mine, she had to succeed in these trials and see our bargain fulfilled.
“Change of plans,” I said. “Eilir, I’ll need some urgent help if you don’t mind.”
The sprite was upright in an instant. “Of course I don’t mind. Anything for the princess.”
“Good. Go see Malva for me. She was seeing to the arrangements for our dinner tonight. Tell her to scrap it all. Fetch some mead, meat, and cheese. Fruit, even. Ask her to pack it all in a basket and bring it to the study. Make sure it’s there by sunset.”
“Sunset. How romantic,” Gallan chuckled and walked away from the table again as Eilir’s eye started to twitch.
“Are you…? A…a picnic?” they sputtered. “My dear, sweet Max. Enora is hardly feeling well enough for anything of the sort right now.”
“Sure. A picnic.” I waved my hand. “We can call it whatever you want. And I told you I needed your help, didn’t I? Not your opinion.”
Eilir grumbled many unsavory things under their breath, including their favorite—overgrown bat—right before they stuck their tiny black tongue out at me, buzzed right by my head, and vanished.
A labored groan took every ounce of air from my lungs as I dropped into the closest chair.
“This day just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?” Gallan quipped as he joined me, armed with two cups of dark spirits.
At least he always knew what I needed.
“I don’t think it can get any worse, at least,” I mumbled with the glass pressed to my lip before I drained it in one go.
Gallan did the same and hissed out, “Be careful what you say, my liege.”
We were beyond being superstitious about things.
The two of us sat in silence for at least a few minutes, both of our attentions half-absent, half-focused on the table, before Gallan asked, “You sure you didn’t want to tell Eilir about any of this?”
He gestured to the now-covered map we had been working over and to the open missive beside it.
The missive whose broken wax seal bore the crest of Odessa’s king.
“No, Goddess, no. Not yet.”
“How about Jasper?”
I sighed. “I’m sure he knows already, but I’ll go fill him in. Make sure there are no surprises, because he clearly isn’t thinking straight.”
Gallan nodded for a moment before he drawled with hefty caution, “You know…”
I fixed him with an annoyed glance.
“It’s not too late to cancel the Agōn Ferr. Put the start of it on hold at the very least. If any of what we’ve learned today is credible…”
“Absolutely not. We go ahead with the tournament as planned, and no one speaks a word of it to Enora unless there is a legitimate threat of danger, understood?”
“Understood, my liege.” Gallan rapped his fingers on the table. “And good luck with her tonight. You’re going to need it.”
To my pleasant surprise, Enora agreed to meet me.
A cowardly move, perhaps, to send the sprite to extend an invitation in my stead, but I knew Enora had developed a soft spot for them, and I’d be damned if I didn’t lean on that when I needed to.
I sent my tiny emissary early enough to give Enora plenty of time to get ready and asked she meet me outside her quarters around sunset.
What a foolish sight I must’ve been, standing in the hall with my hands clasped behind my back as soon as the first inkling of russet hues hit the sky.
Not that I was eager, but cautiously hopeful.
Hopeful that maybe, just maybe, I could move in swiftly enough to undo some of the destruction that Jasper had caused that morning.
The urge to knock was almost inarguable by the time Enora’s door opened.
Goddess below, she looked beyond exhausted.
Not devastated, like I thought she’d be. Hell, there wasn’t even a hint of anger on her face. Just a bone-deep weariness that made my chest ache.
She offered me a wan smile. “Hey.”
Not an ounce of fight to be seen anywhere, and Mina, that was worrying even for a woman I barely knew.
“Hey, you,” I returned gently before I offered her my hand.
She regarded my bargain-marked palm with a hefty amount of unease. “Eilir said something about dinner, and I didn’t want to be rude, but…” She looked at me and winced. “I’m not hungry at all. So I don’t know if…”
Leave it to the sprite to fumble that one.
“It’s nothing fancy, I promise.” I took the loss and let my hand fall to my side. “Just somewhere I’d like to show you, where there will coincidentally be a bit of food if you find yourself peckish.”
The corner of her mouth tugged up, and she nodded. “All right.”
One step at a time.
“A bit of context is probably good.” I gestured down the hall. “I’m not sure if you realized, but we actually share this wing of the Keep.”
Her attention drifted all the way to where the doors to my quarters were tucked at the other end of the hall. “Right. That makes sense, I suppose.”
“Convenience and all that.” A joke was poised on the tip of my tongue, ready to drop if she showed an inkling of reaction, but the princess didn’t even look at me.
So, I scrapped it and set my hand on her back instead, giving her a gentle push forward.
“And through these doors in between is a common area. Go on.”
The space that adjoined our quarters was part library, part lounge—full of plush furniture, flanking hearths, and even a daybed tucked beneath one of the alcove windows.
The perfect place to unwind after a meal, to host a few companions, or relax on a dreary afternoon.
Decades of neglect had left the space a bit to be desired, but I’d seen it thoroughly cleaned to start; a more thorough restoration could come later.
Enora still hadn’t uttered a noise, but she was walking ahead of me, trailing her fingers over the scalloped back of a sofa.
“Those panels to the left of that fireplace open into your room, and the ones to the right of this one open to a hall that leads into mine.”
She glanced from one side of the room to the other in a slow sweep and nodded. “It’s nice in here. Cozy.”
“Very. And completely at your disposal should you ever feel the urge for a change of scenery.”
That was the worst thing to say, apparently, because Enora tossed me a tight smile over her shoulder. “Because I’m still not allowed to go anywhere else on my own, right? Criminal and all that.”
Fuck me.
“That’s not it at all. But let’s focus on getting through the Agōn Ferr before you’re gallivanting around Grimmoria, okay?
” Not a reasonable recovery, but the truth of why I didn’t want her wandering while the Keep was teeming with Elixia and written threats wasn’t an option.
“And I’ll make sure the panel to my quarters is always unlocked now too, in case you ever need me.
I’m rarely anywhere other than there, the war room, or the archives. ”
A slow nod. “I’m not sure if that was the worst proposition I’ve ever received, but I won’t risk walking in on anything unannounced.” There was that unsettling smile again. “I’ll go around and knock if I need anything.”
There had been a point in my life—a substantial part of it, actually—where I’d been formidable in my ability to negotiate and win over even the most inscrutable of minds with a single, carefully guided conversation.
But clearly, something happened when Enora landed on my fucking doorstep, because I’d become capable of doing nothing but turning my words into paste.
“No, no. That was not a proposition, trust me.”
She scoffed and muttered, “Goddess forbid.”
I…was at a complete loss.
My soon-to-be wife implying she wanted me to proposition her should have come as a relief, if only she were in a mental state that even somewhat resembled sound.
We could grapple with her physical wants when I wasn’t confident she was teetering on the edge of breaking irreparably.
Ideally, once I’d wrapped my head around navigating my own challenges with intimacy too.
But I had to focus.
“I wanted to show you not only this room, but what lies just beyond those.” I came up beside her and gestured at the doors set into the far wall, placing my other hand on her back to guide her along again.
“There’s a small terrace outside, but also access to an underground path I get quite a bit of use out of. ”
Enora cast me a look full of unease, her back tense under my hand, and I could tell she was on the brink of leaving.
“I wanted to take you to the place I go when I need a distraction or to clear my head,” I said and, with a knowing look, added, “Or, when my mind feels like too hostile a place.”
Her eyebrows drew together, and she sighed. “I will not make good company today, Max,” she said softly. “Don’t let me ruin somewhere special for you.”
Max.
A small win—I’d gladly take it over her insistent use of my full name, even if I wished she’d said it with any amount of happiness.
“I’m not looking for good company.” That much was simple. “But I recall explicitly being told there was a sliver of your heart I was responsible for caring for. Was I not?”
Now, she hadn’t said those exact words when we’d gone toe to toe at our last dinner, but her meaning had been clear. As her husband, I had expectations laid on me she clearly thought I’d never meet, and I looked forward to proving her wrong.
When Enora glanced up at me, confusion graced her devastated features.
“Your words have value here, Enora, whether you think they do or not.” The last thing she likely wanted to hear about was anything related to the mage who’d rattled her day, but I had to add, “You’ll notice something the longer you are here at the Keep.
Most of us had no say in the hands we were dealt, but we play with what we have and make the most of it. Together.”
My sentiment clearly landed, because her mouth twisted and her throat bobbed, but she nodded. I knew that would be the best acknowledgment I’d get.
Enora treated me to a hefty dose of silence and a hesitant expression as I offered her my hand for the second time. She took it, though, and trailed beside me as I grabbed a filled basket from the drawing desk.
I led her through the exterior door and a set of stone steps dusted with drying puddles from that afternoon’s rain.
Just below the overhang of the terrace, another door—unlocked simply by my presence, and now hers—led us down one further set of stairs into a roughly hewn stone passage beneath the Keep. Enora tried to slip her hand out of mine twice, but I kept a tight grasp on purpose.
We had one potential hurdle to overcome before we reached our destination, and I did not plan on giving her a chance to bolt.
“What…is that?”
That being the curtain of shimmering aether a dozen feet down the passage, throwing off an otherworldly iridescence that was rightfully earned.
While still moving, I tossed her a cautious smile. “A tear in the planes. Eilir built it for me.”
“Oh, absolutely not.” Enora planted her heels as I pulled her, vehemently shaking her head. “I will never—MAKSYM!”
I yanked her forward, quickly dropping her hand to band an arm around her shoulders, sending us forward together.