59. Ellowyn
Chapter 59
Ellowyn
I somehow made it through the rest of the day, my head a mess and my thoughts in a jumble. I didn’t try any of Mistress Lautaro’s focus exercises. I didn’t practice my magic. I didn’t even go outside to the garden.
Instead, I sat and thought.
The pressure to do right, to do what my family wanted and needed was all-encompassing and crushing. It felt like there was a solid weight on my chest and shoulders—a burden I bore alone.
How could the decisions of one person affect everything?
It seemed almost impossible, and I laughed to myself at the absurdity of it.
I hoped tonight that, maybe, Torin would pull me back into the dreamscape with him. Each time it happened, the storm above the cracked landscape grew more volatile and restless, lightning sometimes striking out at us as we called on our magic.
I sighed at the fact that it’s just another mystery, another secret, added to my plate.
My trips to the dreamscape, and my conversations with Torin, I kept close to my heart. No one, not even my parents or Peytor, knew about my adventures at night, and for some reason I preferred to keep it that way .
It was something that was just for me , and I didn’t want it to be dissected or tainted by concerned looks or the rolling of eyes.
The weight of hidden information—both mine and my family’s—sat heavy on my chest, constricting my breathing and scrambling my thoughts.
So many burdens to bear on my own.
A soft knock on my door broke me from my musings.
“Come in,” I said softly, tightening the robe around my body.
Peytor poked his dark head around the door, and I relaxed slightly.
“Hey, sis,” he whispered, “come join us!”
I pulled my loose hair into a quick bun on the top of my head before shoving my feet in a pair of silk slippers and practically running for the door.
“Why are we whispering?” I asked as I ducked out of my room and ran across the hall to his.
“I don’t know! Makes it more fun,” Peytor whispered as he pulled open his door.
His room was awash in the glow of the fire, Finian was perched shirtless in one of the armchairs, a book open on his lap.
“The trio is complete!” Peytor exclaimed before grabbing Finian’s jaw and planting a deep kiss on his lips. Finian’s face glowed pink with embarrassment, and he rolled his eyes at my brother’s actions.
I giggled and sank down on the couch that was positioned between the two armchairs. Peytor grabbed two glasses of whiskey, offering one to me before throwing himself in the armchair opposite Finian.
“You know, I’d say I want the couch with Finian and give you an armchair, Ell, but I doubt I’d be able to keep my hands off him all night if I did.” He propped his head in his hand and let his darkened gaze roam hungrily over Finian. “Doesn’t he just look so handsome with his shirt off? The firelight illuminating those chiseled pecs and abs of his. And so studious with that book. I could just eat him up right now.” A wistful sigh left Peytor’s lips as he took a healthy swallow from his whiskey glass.
I giggled. “Oh, so handsome,” I placated, taking the tiniest of sips from my own glass. I gagged at the burn. “Ugh! How do you guys like this?” I coughed and passed my glass to Finian, who took it and shot the contents back in one sip.
I gagged again.
Gross .
“Better than cucumber water, sis,” Peytor said as he tipped his glass to me, finishing off his pour as well.
I rolled my eyes and relaxed back on the couch. I loved these nights with Peytor and Finian. It’s the only time, apart from the times in the dreamscape with Torin, when I truly felt free from expectations and secrets. A small smile came to my lips unexpectedly at the thought.
“What, or who, has you smiling like that?” Finian asked gently. “You look like Peytor when he looks at me. Must be a d’Aelius thing.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “No one, nothing. Just happy to be here with you both,” I said, my words not entirely a lie.
“Hmm,” Peytor hummed. “I saw you had an impromptu meeting with Mother and Father today. Want to tell us about that?”
I paused, gently picking at a loose thread on Peytor’s couch, contemplating my words, the heavy weight of my choices resettling on my chest.
Do I tell them everything? Is that a major decision that could impact everything? Do I keep it all to myself? If I don’t say something, I might explode.
“Hey, earth to Ellowyn!” Peytor called, waving his hand in front of my face. I knocked it back with a snort as it came close to hitting me. “Now, that is a noise Mother would not approve of, young lady,” he mocked.
I rolled my eyes. “She doesn’t approve of much these days.”
“She’s hard on you because she loves you, wants you to do well and thrive when you head south,” Peytor explained. “Father is the same with me, and Matteo is the same with Finian. It’s just different because you’re a girl and have different . . . expectations.”
I grunted at that, slightly displeased that my lessons dealt with parties, babies, and pleasing my husband.
“What, you mean Father doesn’t talk to you about parties, babies, and pleasing your wife?” Peytor choked on the last of his drink at my words and Finian barked a laugh.
“I mean, that is part of it, I suppose,” Finian mused. “Though we also get the whole ‘affairs of State’ talk and such.”
“So, you two know about Lord d’Refan coming, then?” I hedged.
“Yes,” they said in unison, and I nodded.
“So, what’s going to happen? Are you signing up? Apparently, the majority of Mages who are sick need some type of Elemental Vessel . . .” I trailed off, expectantly .
Peytor and Finian shot each other a few secret looks, communicating with just their eyebrows and facial expressions.
“We’ve . . . discussed coming out to our parents,” Peytor finally said, and I gasped.
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” I shot up on the couch, beaming at my brother and his lover, but my face fell when I took in their expressions. “Isn’t it?”
Finian gave me a small, grim smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’re . . . concerned about the backlash, obviously. But this visit from the Warlord feels . . .”
“Odd,” Peytor finished for him. “And the fact that they’re looking specifically for Elemental Vessels? In Hestin? Where I, the heir, am an Air Vessel and Finian, second-in-line, is a Water Vessel?” He shook his head and set his glass on the table with a thud. “Something doesn’t feel right, I just can’t put my finger on it.”
Silence encased the room for a few minutes as we all sat with our thoughts.
“What would his play be, though?” I mused. “We’re already allied to him. I don’t get it. It wouldn’t make sense to target you and Finian.”
Peytor shook his head and Finian shrugged his shoulders. “At this point, your guess is as good as mine, sis.”