62. Ellowyn
Chapter 62
Ellowyn
T he sky whirled overhead, the storm of colors and magic even more tumultuous than before. The wind whipped my hair and tossed it into my face. I looked across the barren landscape to the mountains in the distance.
The home of the gods.
I wasn’t shocked that I was pulled into the dreamscape tonight, especially with the stress of Lord d’Refan’s arrival and his announcement about Peytor.
Poor Peytor and Finian .
My heart ached for them, but I was too tired and too preoccupied with my own problems to see a way around his demands. Peytor would be Bonded to someone with Mage Sickness and underhandedly pressed into the service of Lord d’Refan.
I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for either Torin or Fate to make an appearance. I was growing increasingly irritated, and the lack of communication from Torin in the real world wasn’t helping my mood.
“Child.” The raspy voice spooked me, and I jumped before turning around to face Fate. They appeared as they always did—a floating specter covered in black robes.
“Hello, Fate,” I said, suddenly emboldened, something I simply couldn’t be outside of the dreamscape. Fate wouldn’t hurt me, of that much I was certain .
Fate cocked their head at me. “You’re in turmoil.” It was a statement, not a question, and I laughed sardonically.
“What gave me away?”
They didn’t say anything, just regarded me in quiet.
“Your path narrows soon, Child.”
“What does that mean ?” I practically yelled at them. I was tired of the cryptic messages and lack of understanding. “I don’t know what you mean when you speak in riddles! I have no patience or time for them right now, Fate. If you were unaware, things are happening out there in the real world. Bad things. Things I have no control over, and I’m pulled in so many different directions that it makes my head spin.” Fate just floated in silence, letting me unload on them. “And where is Torin? I haven’t seen him or spoken to him in weeks, I don’t even know if he exists out there, or if he’s simply a figment of my imagination.” I threw my hands up in the direction that I thought was the real world.
I didn’t know anymore.
“You’ll see him soon, though not under the circumstances you believe.” At least that was less cryptic.
“Great. Thanks for that, Fate. So my path narrows and my life is going to go to shit. Can we just cut it with the secrets already, please?” I practically pleaded.
“Not yet, Child. But soon.” They drifted closer to me, but I held my ground for once and lifted my chin in defiance. “For now, play their games. You are destined for more than petty human machinations, Child.”
Thunder rumbled and lightning cracked as Fate floated even closer.
“Time to wake up, Ellowyn,” a voice said, but it didn’t sound like Fate’s. I opened my mouth to ask what they meant, but I was abruptly pulled from the dreamscape.
I groaned, a throbbing behind my eyes matched the rhythm of my heart. Pip stood next to my bed, wringing her hands slightly, but that was the only sign she was uncomfortable.
She’d grown much more confident over the past few months, and it showed in her quick and deft movements as she bustled around my bedroom, preparing everything for the day.
Bonding day. Peytor’s getting Bonded .
It was an uncomfortable thought and I groaned again.
“Pardon me, Miss Ellowyn, but it’s time to wake. Your mother already selected a gown appropriate for today and we must be in the city center in less than two hours, so it will be a quick morning,” Pip said as she pulled a dress out of my armoire.
“Okay,” I croaked. Coming out of the dreamscape was always exhausting, even when I woke on my own. To be pulled from it was something else entirely. It felt like I hadn’t slept all night, and my mind was already whirring with what Fate communicated. The details were a bit fuzzy, but the implication remained emblazoned in my memory—there were secrets layered on secrets, and I seemed to be at the center of them all.
Or maybe everything is just made up in my head and none of it was real .
I wasn’t sure if that thought was more or less comforting than it all being real.
With another groan, I pulled myself from my bed and quickly washed for the day. I didn’t bother washing my hair, Pip would put it into a braided style anyway, which held better when it was dirty.
When I returned from using the facilities, the bed was made with today’s dress lying on top and the curtains were pulled wide. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, and it lit the forest and gardens with a golden glow.
I sighed as I stripped from my nightwear and pulled on fresh undergarments. Today would be a beautiful day to sit in the garden and push my hands into the soil, maybe practice with my Creation Magic a bit while I gardened. But I highly doubted there would be any time for that type of relaxation, at least while Lord d’Refan was here breathing down our necks.
Pip helped me into my gown—a lightweight light-green linen with a sharp square neck and three-quarter sleeves—it was loose so I wouldn’t overheat in the sun but was still elegant enough that there was no mistaking my place as the Lord of Hestin’s daughter. I was honestly shocked that Mother picked the dress, she tended to favor more conservative pieces.
I was silent as Pip gently brushed out my blonde curls before swiftly braiding them in a crown around my head and securing the braids with pins. She pulled a few strands out so a curl or two bounced around my face, and she finished the look with some light makeup. I was extremely impressed with her handiwork and loved how confident she’d grown.
“Thank you,” I said as I gently squeezed her forearm, and I was rewarded with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. Pip’s cheeks pinked a bit, and she bobbed in a quick curtsy .
“Of course, miss. I’m glad that I’ve been able to learn so quickly for you.”
I smiled again and rose from the chair. “These styles are good practice, Pip. I hear it’s rather hot in the Southern Territories, and I’ll need your invaluable help when we move there to be with Lord d’Eshu.”
Maybe I could summon him simply by sheer will and desire.
She bobbed her head again in acknowledgment before exiting the room.
I took one last look in the mirror, appreciating Pip’s work, before I also strode from the room in search of my family. I had no doubt that we’d be arriving together, but I was shocked speechless when I nearly ran into Lord d’Refan hovering just outside my door.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, my hand flying to my chest where my heart threatened to beat straight out. “Lord d’Refan, I didn’t see you there. Please excuse my rudeness and clumsiness.”
He gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes—eyes that were zooming about again. Lord d’Refan was dressed in his typical all-black ensemble, but the fabric of it was clearly well-tailored. The crown of a thin band of gold rested against his forehead, which contrasted well with the black of his hair.
If not for the slight paunch and whizzing eyes, he could be considered handsome. But the effect of Lord d’Refan had worn off considerably for me, especially after dinner last night. Still, I kept my father’s initial warning in the back of my mind while I worked to keep my mother’s teachings at the forefront.
Gods, this will be an exhausting day.
“Now, Ellowyn, how many times have I told you to call me Alois?” His words carried an undertone of anger, and I pulled back a bit.
I diverted my eyes to the ground and curtsied slightly. “Excuse me, Alois. I’m simply trying to show you the respect you deserve.”
He humphed at that and reached out to tilt my chin back up so my eyes met his. “We didn’t speak much yesterday, but I would like to rectify that shortcoming today. After the ceremony, you and I will dine in private.” His tone brokered no argument, and I inclined my head as much as I could with it still in his grasp.
“Ellowyn, there you are! Let’s walk down to the ceremony together.” My brother’s voice broke through the tension between Alois and I, and he released my chin sharply. I resisted the urge to rub where his fingers had been—the grip was borderline painful, and I couldn’t be sure there weren’t bruises adorning my chin.
“Lord d’Refan, good morning,” Peytor snapped with a sharp bow. His tunic was a lily white with deep-green stitching and pants to match. It was a sharp look, though I didn’t envy the heavy fabrics in the summer heat.
Alois grunted a response before whirling on his heel and striding away from us and down the stairs.
Immediately Peytor’s expression changed to one of worry, his brows set low over his eyes, and he raked his gaze over me. “You okay?” he whispered.
“I don’t know,” I said, honestly, finally giving in to the urge to rub my chin.
Peytor hummed before offering his arm to me, which I gladly took. We walked slowly and quietly, taking our time to meet the rest of our family at the carriages out front.
“Are you okay?” I finally asked, looking up at him. He ran his free hand over his freshly shaven jaw and nearly ran it through the waves of his perfectly styled chestnut hair but thought better of it at the last second.
“I don’t know,” he returned with a sad smile. I squeezed his arm in solidarity.
“It’s all going to be okay,” I whispered as we descended the stairs, but Peytor didn’t respond.
I hope .