CHAPTER FORTY
The past forty-eight hours had worn immensely on Ethenn. He was proud of himself for withholding his emotions. Through every moment, he’d been present for Ilain, offering her support no matter how ready he was to collapse and break apart himself.
Of course, he didn’t grieve like she did. He’d hardly considered Auden a friend, let alone a brother. The Day Mage’s missing presence was oddly draining, but he didn’t feel the loss.
No, it wasn’t mourning that caused Ethenn such internal discomfort. It was the memories that formed the agitation currently rising in his chest like a burr under a saddle.
Ethenn shut them out as best he could, only accessing what personal experience he possessed as a means of helping Ilain through these first unbearable days.
He knew the pain of loss just as he knew that the best way to get through it was not to coddle or smother her with care.
Ilain didn’t need him to babysit her. She needed him to trust her, support her, and let her live.
As the sun faded to a yellow-orange glow on the horizon, they neared the town of Kesgrave.
They pulled to an early stop by a grove of trees.
The settlement’s buildings awaited them down the road, shops and homes all clustered together.
He eyed them longingly. Ethenn was weary of constant travel.
He’d grown up going on long trips through the forest, but none of them had lasted for over three months.
After his time with the Third Volunteer Company and then joining the mission for the Alliance, he was ready for an extended stay in one place.
“We’ll stop here for training,” Deckard announced, and Ilain shifted in her saddle beside Ethenn. “Thom, Rafferty, and Vayden, you can spar together, then go into town early to get us a place.”
The three men nodded, dismounting to lead their horses into the trees.
Deckard continued giving his orders. “Ilain and Isla, I’ll need your help while Brea continues to train Evylin and Ethenn.”
“No,” Ilain said flatly.
Everyone turned to her in surprise. At the edge of the woods, Vayden looked back, his brow furrowed. “Lainy—”
“No,” she repeated, facing him this time.
“I’m sorry,” Deckard said, leaning toward Ilain with a confused expression. “I don’t understand what the problem is.”
Ilain turned back to Deckard with an imperious stare, and Ethenn’s jaw tensed, somehow already knowing what was coming. “Ethenn will not be training with Breata anymore,” she stated firmly.
Grinding his teeth, Ethenn fought the urge to snap at her.
It was ridiculous. It was childish. It was petty.
Of course, he was going to train with Brea.
He didn’t have a choice. If he wanted to be a better Warrior—one who could defend Ilain and become the man that she needed by her side—then he had to train.
But he shoved down his rising anger, even as the heat crept along his spine. “Ilain,” he said softly, “my training is necessary.”
“I don’t disagree,” Ilain said. “That doesn’t mean you have to train with her.”
A scoff slipped out of him. “Who would you like to train me?”
“Evylin was doing a splendid job of it a few weeks ago.”
“It wasn’t enough.”
The troop watched them, frozen in silence, eyes darting between the couple. Ethenn’s neck grew hotter. Ilain’s expression grew harder.
“We’ll discuss this later,” he said, preparing to dismount and follow Evylin and Brea into the woods.
Ilain’s hand snapped out and clutched his wrist. “We’ll discuss it now.”
A long, painful silence stretched.
Thom cleared his throat and gave Deckard a pointed look. With a sigh, Deckard nodded, and Thom tugged Rafferty with him into the trees. Vayden met Isla’s stare, looked between Ilain and Ethenn, and then he departed too.
“Evylin, Brea, go ahead,” Deckard said. “Isla, if you don’t mind. . . .”
“Not at all,” Isla replied, but she urged her horse to Ilain’s side. She whispered something in Schonese. Ilain pursed her lips, and then Isla followed Deckard farther down the road to where the trees thickened in the distance.
Effectively alone, Ethenn held Ilain’s challenging gaze, fighting the anger rising within. She was no fool. She knew better than to set out ridiculous ultimatums like this. So why behave so irrationally? Mourning didn’t excuse idiocy.
“Shall we take this somewhere more private?” Ilain asked. “Or are we to have this conversation by the road?”
Without a word, Ethenn turned his horse toward the town. If he was going to miss training, he may as well do something useful with his time.
Leading her into Kesgrave, they wound their way through the narrow streets in silence.
A large market filled the town center. The populace was comprised mostly of women closing up shop for the day.
It was easy to find the inn, a squat but large building with colorful bunting hanging around its entrance.
They stabled their horses, paid an urchin to keep an eye out for their friends, and entered the inn.
Ethenn secured their rooms for the night and declined the dinner the barkeep offered, stating that they’d wait for the rest of their party’s arrival. With that, he took Ilain’s hand and pulled her to the back of the inn, where their room awaited.
Once they were inside, and the door was shut, Ethenn turned to glare at his wife. She wore an indifferent expression as she took in his tense demeanor.
“Are you going to chastise me, husband?” she asked with a snide tilt to her voice.
“Why do you do that?” he said bluntly.
Her brow furrowed, and for a moment, he saw her guard slip. “Do what?”
“Pretend to be petty and illogical,” he said. “You’re not an idiot, Ilain. You know I need to train, and you know Brea is the only one who can do it. So why act like an unreasonable child?”
Ilain’s lips parted in shock. “You’re rather testy today.”
“And you’re pushing my patience,” he said. “Why?”
She crossed her arms, the fabric of her dress rustling with the movement. “I just lost my brother—my closest friend—if you’ve failed to remember.”
“Of course I haven’t.”
“Yet, you ask me to be reasonable in my time of grief.”
Ethenn pushed away from the door. His chest was beginning to burn, so he unbuttoned his coat, looking for some relief from the sensation.
“You were reasonable the morning after his death,” he said, keeping his gaze averted.
“You were reasonable when you healed Thom. Why shouldn’t I expect you to behave the same way now? ”
“She’s the reason he’s dead,” Ilain spat. “Why is it so much to ask that you reject her the same as I?”
“Because she didn’t have a choice,” Ethenn returned, fully shrugging off his coat. He turned back to her. “As I don’t have a choice. I either train with Brea or I don’t train at all. Do you want that?”
Ilain didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Ethenn gaped at her, incredulous. “How can you be so irrational?”
“How can you not see that I’m mourning?” Ilain demanded. “That this is my greatest fear come to life?”
Ethenn’s shoulders slumped, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. The truth was, he did see those things. It hurt him to see her in such deep pain. But the world didn’t stop, no matter how much life took from you. He’d learned that the hard way.
“What do you want me to do, Ethenn?” Ilain demanded in his silence. “I am working to hold it together. I am trying to be ‘rational.’ But when I look at her, I see my brother ripped apart in front of my eyes. How am I supposed to feel about that?”
Ethenn didn’t have an answer.
Ilain took a step closer, pressing her hands to her chest. “I don’t want you to be around her because I don’t trust her. Can’t you understand that?”
“No,” Ethenn admitted. “No, I can’t. She didn’t intentionally kill him. You have to see that.”
“I don’t.”
“You refuse to acknowledge it is what you mean,” he corrected, the heat climbing up to the base of his skull. “Ilain, I understand that it’s difficult for you. But you know—you know that I need training. You fear losing those you love, but what about me? What about what I fear?”
She stared at him, uncomprehending.
Ethenn grabbed her arms, holding her gaze. “If I don’t get stronger—if I don’t become a better Warrior—it might be me who fails next time. What if my lack of training causes Vayden to lose his life? Even worse, what if my failure costs me you?”
Her lips pressed together at his argument.
“I have to train, Ilain,” he insisted. “And that means it has to be with Brea.”
“No.” She shoved his hands away, pulling out of his grip. “You can train with Evylin—with Thom and Rafferty. You don’t have to work with her.”
Ethenn’s hands balled into fists. He fought back a growl of frustration, yet his next words slipped out unbidden. “Why are you being so deliberately illogical?”
The curl of Ilain’s lips showed her building rage. “I’m sorry that my grief makes me so illogical, darling. Would you like me to pretend that everything is all just fine? Perhaps I should forget the heartache of my loss.”
Ethenn threw his hands in the air, the heat blazing in his cheeks. “We’ve all lost someone, Ilain. Shall the rest of us join you in your madness? Or are you to be the only one who gets to fall into delusion while we poor saps are resigned to reality?”
Ilain froze, mouth agape at his outburst.
Realizing the harshness of his words and the aggression in his tone, Ethenn sighed. He’d gone too far, letting his emotions get the better of him. This was why he was so careful with his feelings. If his heart wasn’t involved, if he locked it away, he couldn’t get angry. He couldn’t hurt someone.
Ethenn opened his mouth to apologize, but Ilain drew back, her composure regained as she studied him. Her jade green gaze bore a sly glint, and suddenly, he realized what he’d confessed.
“Who did you lose?” Ilain asked.
Ethenn’s throat burned, and his heart stopped. “No one.”
Ilain’s eyes narrowed. “You just said you did.”
“I meant—” Ethenn fumbled, working for an excuse. “That’s not—”
He stepped back as Ilain moved in closer. “Who did you lose, Ethenn?” she demanded.