Chapter 46
I slept deliciously well in my new room, with privacy and my own bed. I was able to lie on my back too. No more smushed belly sleeping because of my wounds, no more pain or uncomfortable itching on the slow-healing skin.
It was blissful.
When a knock comes on the door, I get up from the pillowy mattress and find Frena outside, holding a tray of food and a bundle draping over her arm.
“Frena!” I exclaim before opening the door wide. “Please, come in.”
She patters in and sets the tray of food on the small circular table in front of the window. “Frena, I’m glad you’re here, because I wanted to apologize to you,” I say, and I notice her shoulders stiffen slightly. “I’m so sorry about what I did, tricking you like that. I shouldn’t have done it.”
Frena turns to face me and gives me a quick smile. “It’s alright, miss.”
“Please, call me Esti.”
“Esti, it really is alright.”
I shake my head. “It was bad of me to put you in that position, and you got reassigned to the kitchens because of me. I’ll talk to Varrik—Lord Varrik, I mean,” I stumble, my face heating at the casual address.
“No, really, I’m glad to be reassigned to the kitchens,” she tells me, her expression earnest.
My lips part in surprise. “You are?”
She lets a tiny conspiratorial smile lift her lips. “It gets me away from Miss Wend.”
“Oh. Well. I . . . completely understand that.”
We look at each other for a moment, and then she starts to giggle, making me join in, until she slaps a hand over her mouth to staunch it. “You should have seen her face when you escaped. I’ve never seen her so worked up.”
My smile falls as I wince. “Yeah. She doesn’t like me much.”
“Wend is very harsh,” she admits, before glancing around like she’s worried Wend is going to pop out from somewhere and yell at her. “Oh, I almost forgot. Here.” She passes me the bundle still in her arms. “A couple new frocks and a bodice for you.”
“Thank you.”
She looks over at the clock propped on the mantel. “I need to get back, but enjoy your breakfast. I made sure to bring it up myself after finding out what Wend served you yesterday.”
I give her a grateful smile. “I appreciate it, Frena.”
She nods and takes her leave, and I let out a breath, feeling even lighter in spirits than before. Breakfast is delicious, with venison and fluffy bread smeared with butter, and sliced fruit with a dip of peppery honey.
Much, much better than what Wend served me.
I leave my tray on the table and go into the washroom to clean up. It’s smaller than Varrik’s, but there’s an ornate silver mirror hanging beside the tub, and the walls are paneled with wood and painted a soft blue, making the whole space inviting and pretty.
After cleaning up, I grab one of the new frocks and pull it on.
It’s not nearly as elaborate as the dress from last night, the neckline more modest, the fabric thicker, but the bodice I fit over it is a soft lilac that nearly matches the walls in the bedroom.
There’s a normal linen veillet too, but instead of wearing that, I pick up the veillet from last night and fit the rings over my horns, and I smile in the mirror.
I find I like not hiding my horns. I like not having to feel ashamed of them like I did in Hamelyn.
A knock sounds on the door and when I go to open it, Varrik is there. He looks me up and down, and notices my choice of hair veil. “You look beautiful.”
I blush. “Thank you for the clothes and the veillet.”
“I’m glad they’re to your liking.”
“And thank you for the room. It means a lot.”
“I want you to be happy,” he replies, and I can hear the honesty in his words. It makes my insides melt. “If you’re ready, we can go to the burg where I’ve brought all the collected fiends and fae.”
“Stolen,” I correct. “But yes, let me just get my shoes.”
“When are you going to drop that?”
“Probably never,” I reply as I leave the doorway and find the same slippers from last night and ease them on.
When I’m done, Varrik leads me downstairs. “So, are you going to tell me what my stars really said yet?” he asks.
“Yep. Arrogant, demanding, and prone to kidnapping,” I tout. “Pretty on the nose, don’t you think?”
He casts me a look of mirth before his gaze flicks down to my fingernails. “Silver? Is that the color of lying or amusement?”
I hide my hands in my skirts with a shrug. “Hard to say.”
He chuckles as we head outside, and there, I see Conrad’s group gathered ahead.
“They’re coming too?”
Varrik nods. “They’re going to see if they can find their Latch,” he tells me, filling me with surprise.
“So that’s why the stolen fae are staying there,” I muse. “It’s where you bring other Core fae to see if their magic latches to one of them.”
“That’s the idea.”
“Has it worked?”
“More than a dozen times already.”
My brows jump in surprise. “That’s . . .”
“Impressive, I know,” he says with a smirk.
We near the leyline and go straight for a pair of pillars that have strips of faded red painted on the base, where Conrad and the others are waiting.
The marble pathway stretches quite far, and I take the time to count each pillar.
“How many places can this single leyline take you?” I ask curiously.
“Why, going to the desert and fighting off a serpill wasn’t enough excitement for you?”
I shudder just thinking of that horrible furred creature. “That was awful.”
He hums thoughtfully, like it wasn’t awful at all, and I whip my head to look at him. “You got pierced with its fangs!”
“I also got the most memorable kiss,” he practically purrs. “Though, it was a bit muddy.”
I nearly choke on my tongue. “And it’s the last kiss, muddy or otherwise, that you’ll get from me.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” he murmurs, tone as thick as honey.
My face heats. “Now who’s doing a good job at deflection?” I counter.
His lips twitch with amusement. “Ten. I can get to ten different spots from this leyline.”
“Wow. That’s incredible.”
“That’s what you should’ve said about my kiss.”
I jab his stomach with my elbow, making him chuckle.
We stop on the grass in front of the pillars. “Everyone ready?” he asks the group.
When he gets nods back, Varrik turns and takes my hand as we go up the slight slope, past the pillars, and onto the marble. The magic grips us, making his castle grounds disappear. I fall through nothing, and then I’m surprised to find myself in a large room that smells of wine and vegetables.
I look around the wooden walls. “Where are we?”
He releases my hand. “A tavern right in the middle of Wystinn Burg. We built it around the leyline so that we could bring in people without being out in the open—just in case.”
“Shit,” I hear, just as shoes smack loudly against the floorboards.
I look behind us to see Conrad appear. He brushes a hand over his floppy orange hair before straightening his jerkin. “I loathe traveling by leyline,” he says with contempt.
“I loathe hearing you whine about it,” Varrik drawls.
Conrad casts him a glare. “Why can’t you simply be supportive?”
Varrik rolls his eyes. “Come on.”
He leads me up a staircase just past a row of wine barrels. Behind us, I hear more people appearing and Conrad asking if they thought it was as terrible a journey as he did.
“I’m just saying, there are merits to horseback riding!
” Conrad calls, practically running to catch up with us after we get to a door and go through a narrow corridor.
“Not only does it ensure fresh air for lively lungs, it’s also incredibly good for my musculature,” he says, patting his thighs and stomach.
He leans in toward me and drops his voice.
“And, someone good at horseback riding is almost always very good at . . . other kinds of riding,” he says with a wink.
“Conrad, if you’d like to keep your musculature intact, I suggest you shut up,” Varrik says.
Conrad sighs. “Fine.”
Amusement winds around me as we step through a doorway and into the tavern’s main room. The space holds polished wood floors and an exposed beam ceiling, with a long bar just to our right. There’s a fiend there wiping down tables, his horns black with a hue of midnight blue to them.
He jolts when he sees us. “Lordship! Gave me a scare.”
“Apologies, Alinthe. I should’ve sent word ahead.”
“No need. Come on through. Bit busy at the moment, so mind your way.”
We start weaving past tables filled with patrons. The scent of alcohol and stew brines the air with salt and wheat, as daylight soaks in through the windows. Varrik gets several head nods and greetings before he takes us through the jingling door and onto the street.
It’s nothing like his city in Penbroge—at least, not what I could see of it from a distance.
These buildings don’t have ancient charm or swaths of aged greenery growing up around the stones.
Everything here looks new. The brick road is clean, and the buildings are all uniform, varying in shades of fresh paint.
“This is the market block,” Varrik says beside me. “There’s a grocer, a tailor, a healer, a butcher, an apothecary, and even an inn. We import everything they need, but the burg is working toward becoming self-sustaining.”
Varrik lifts a finger, directing my gaze. “We got seeds in the ground on that plowed field for an early winter harvest. Started small, but in a few years, we should be able to grow what we need.”
“And this is where all the fiends are? And the fae you took?”
“Yes.”
I nod, looking around at the people walking or gathered at market stalls and loitering on benches. There are both fae and fiends, and I even see some unfamiliar Core, their ears tipped in red.
A few kids are running around, splashing at the burg’s water well in the middle of the road while parents holler at them from shop doorways with smiles on their faces. Varrik is silent beside me, letting me take it all in.
But there’s no denying it. The people look content. Happy, even. Which brings back my conflicting thoughts. Because I know he’s doing good . . . but I also know how we all got here.
I just hope that the ends justify the means. That a world without Plagues is worth it.
I just hope that through it all, he’s doing the right thing.