25. Elorie
Elorie
My hair fans out across the water. Strands dance with the sprigs of lavender on the surface. Steam curls up my cheeks, bathing me in warmth. Behind me, the door to the bathing chamber cracks open, and I sense aether stirring before Wilder enters.
His footsteps pad across the stone floor until he’s standing over where I’m floating in the large tub.
“Are you going to stand there and watch, or are you going to join me?”
His gold eyes flicker at my offer. “As much as I’d like to join you, I’m quite fond of this view.”
Wilder drops to his knees, resting his forearms on the ledge of the tub and planting a kiss on my forehead. His fingertips dance in the water, teasing the ends of my hair and sending a flush of aether over my body.
He’s been busy with his court for the past few days, to the point where I’ve hardly seen him. I’m asleep by the time he climbs into bed, and although I feel the sheets shift during the night, he’s gone again before I wake.
Between our search for a way to open an Arch and the pressure on Vaelier’s battlefront, there’s no shortage of things to worry about. Which is why I’ve been spending more time training with Greer, sharpening my skills, and finding something else to focus on.
What’s inevitable will happen. I’d rather get ready to fight than sit around worrying about it.
My arms rest on the sides of the bathing tub. Flecks of magic spit from my fingers. What used to be nearly impossible to summon flows freely in Vaelier. Especially now that my magic has recovered from months on Alyssium.
“I haven’t felt your presence today.” My wet fingers brush the back of Wilder’s hand. “Did you leave Quietus again?”
He shakes his head. “I was meeting with Darvel, and there were magics in place to ensure no one could overhear us. We don’t want anyone to panic.”
“Things are that bad?”
“Worse.” He runs his wet hand through his hair.
“There’s been a surge at Orehla—the lake I used to train at before the war.
A vein from the Well has nearly split Everquell in half.
It’s almost at the border, putting pressure on Andare.
Darvel had to pull the army back, and Zealeh refuses to assist from the north.
He’s frustrated by their lack of cooperation.
He wants Rior’s help convincing Celeste to get involved. ”
“Celeste?”
“The Lady of Zealeh.”
“Why would she listen to Rior? You’re her king. Or almost her king… Why do you keep putting off the ceremony?” Water sloshes as I sit up, turning to face Wilder.
His smile quirks. “So many questions.”
“Indeed. So are you going to answer any of them?”
He chuckles, his chin dropping. But even with a smile on his face, his gaze is heavy. His shoulders are stiff.
“Vaelier isn’t like Lyrichia. Malachi requires the territories to bow to him.
He sees them all as one—as his land. Here, each lord and lady holds a say over their people for the most part.
If Celeste does not wish for her army to assist Andare, I’ll abide by that wish as long as I possibly can.
At least, until her resistance affects Vaelier as a whole.
But yes, technically I can order her to cooperate. ”
“Yet you don’t?” Confusion laces my tone as I try to make sense of what he’s saying.
Even in Alyssium, we were expected to bow to the Fae king. Yet here, it’s not the same.
“The crown is a symbol of my loyalty to my people. The royal family’s devotion to assisting all territories equally.
To build diplomacy between them and to represent us as a united front with other realms. I can overrule a territory’s leader, should it become absolutely necessary, but I trust those who rule them.
If I didn’t, they would not remain in those positions. ”
Because he wouldn’t let them.
He doesn’t say it, but it’s clear. Each territory holds individual power, but they follow the royal family regardless.
I brush Wilder’s hair from his forehead, leaving a wet trail across his skin. “Do you think Celeste should dispatch her army to help with what’s happening at Orehla?”
“Darvel has it under control for now.” Wilder sighs, seeming only somewhat convinced by his own words. “So long as that remains the case, it’s better not to force Zealeh into assisting. They will when the time is right. Celeste isn’t heartless, even if she’s forgotten that.”
I sense there’s more to it because if Darvel truly had it under control, he wouldn’t ask Wilder to intervene.
And Wilder wouldn’t look so torn about the fact that he hasn’t yet.
There’s uncertainty when I look at my mate.
A male refusing to claim his crown for reasons he’s yet to fully divulge to me.
“You mentioned Rior.” I shift the conversation. “Why would Darvel think Rior could convince Celeste? Do they have history?”
“Not the kind that puts Rior in a position to negotiate with her.” Wilder breathes out a laugh. “They spent time together centuries ago.”
“Romantically?” I guess, and Wilder nods. “Did something go wrong?”
“Not between them.” Wilder drags his hand through his hair. “He met her when he followed me to Quietus to join the court. She was a member of my mother’s most trusted circle at the time. They were quite close until his brother, the Lord of Zealeh, visited, and the mating bond snapped into place.”
My eyes widen. “Rior’s brother is Celeste’s mate?”
“It was… unexpected. She claimed to love Rior but told him that her love for him changed when the bond with his brother took root. She left Rior for Roane and returned to Zealeh with him, leaving Rior here. He didn’t take it well.”
“I’m guessing Rior hasn’t met his mate yet?”
Wilder shakes his head. “He still loves Celeste and refuses to accept that she’s bound to his brother. Though, he’ll never admit that out loud.”
Rior’s animosity makes more sense now. He’s wary of my relationship with Wilder because of his personal experience with the mating bond. He doesn’t trust it to be a deciding factor when all it’s done is break his heart.
“Could Rior reach out to his brother instead? Maybe if they talked instead of Celeste—”
“Roane was lost to a mission at the start of the Realm War.” Wilder’s voice grows cold. “It’s just Celeste now.”
A knot thickens in my throat.
Rior lost his brother. Celeste lost her mate.
I can’t imagine.
“Losing Roane only made Rior and Celeste more distant.” Wilder shakes his head. “He’s here because he’s loyal but also because there’s no returning home for him. There was a time he thought Celeste was his. She isn’t. She made that clear, no matter how much he refuses to accept it.”
“I can’t imagine.” My eyes burn, and Wilder reaches for my hand. “I remember thinking Aurora was your mate before I knew that you were mine, and the thought of it—” I shake my head, my throat tightening. “It was nearly unbearable.”
Wilder’s eyes churn with the emotion swirling in them. “Watching you at Malachi’s side. Him putting his lips on you”—his grip on my hand tightens—“I understand why you felt that way.”
“I’m yours, Wilder. Only yours.”
“Same for you, Starfire. The fates really blessed me.” His smile is sad.
I lean in, water dripping off my body as I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him close. He seals my body to him, not caring that I’m soaking wet and messing up his clothes. He holds me tight, pressing our foreheads together.
“They blessed me too,” I say, pressing my palm over his racing heart. “The fates knew exactly what I needed when they gifted me you. You see me even when I can’t see myself. You found me in the darkness of the prison—of my soul. You saved me in every way.”
“I’ll always find you,” he promises.
“I know.”
Wilder’s eyes close. “I need to claim my crown. My discussion with Darvel simply reinforced it. The territories are restless. They need something to believe in, but…”
“You don’t think they should believe in you,” I guess.
“I already failed them once. Failed their queen. Failed my sister.”
“You were set against impossible odds. You were Cleaving. You shouldn’t have survived that battle. No Fae can.” My fingers trace a rune on his neck. “But you did. You’re here, and I know that when you’re ready to be there for them, you will be with every fleck of your being. It’s who you are.”
“A king?”
“A protector.” His eyes flash open, meeting mine. “A weapon for his realm. A shield for his people. Bearer of impossible weights. Surviving a century in that horrible prison for them. You will find your way. I believe in you.”
“My Starfire.” He sighs, cupping my cheeks. “I don’t deserve such unwavering faith.”
“You don’t see yourself like I do.”
“A failure?”
I shake my head. “You aren’t a failure. You lost a battle. There’s a difference. You fought for your people—sacrificed it all for them. They’re lucky to have you as a king.”
“Gods, you make me wish I could join you in the tub right now.” He groans against my mouth when I kiss him.
“Then do it.”
“Unfortunately, I came in here to get you.”
“Is something wrong?” I pull back.
“No, but Callum found something.”
“A way to open the Arch?”
“I believe so.”