Chapter 30
Mora
“My mother would faint if she knew royalty sat at her kitchen table,” Eris said over his shoulder, twirling his dagger between his fingers, sapphires glinting in the low light.
With his free hand, he plucked a carrot slice from an old wooden cutting board and sank his teeth into it.
Humming as he savored the sweet taste. “Then again, she’d likely banish me to the potato cellar for letting you see her home in such a state.
Gods forbid it look lived-in when we have company. ”
A wicked grin played on his face when he turned, flipping the dagger one final time before pointing it at Mora.
“Do me a favor, Vicious Thing. Keep this visit between us.” Dark eyes dropped briefly to her lips before Eris turned back toward the counter, preparing their dinner.
Her heart fluttered, flashes of a starlit gaze playing in her mind.
Have I gone mad?
“Stop flirting and finish the soup,” Imani spat. “We’re starving.”
“Shush!” Jade slapped Imani’s shoulder, hazel eyes narrowing in warning. Gone was the swelling, their wounds healed by Mora’s hand, yet Imani hadn’t softened, uninterested in a kinship with the Princess of Berwick.
Eris chuckled shamelessly, the rhythmic chop of his blade never missing a beat. It joined the gentle bubble emanating from a cast iron pot he’d placed over the hearth, its warmth cuddling against Mora’s skin, now swathed in a faded green tunic belonging to Eris’s mother.
Or perhaps the heat came from within—a flush darkened her cheeks, spreading to her ears.
Mora’s eyes dropped to the tabletop, her palm flattening over a knot in the wood.
Chair squeaking in protest as she shifted her weight, eager to free herself from Eris’s presence and the Halflings’ judging stares.
At her side, Castellan surveyed the room. Arms crossed, back straight with the perfect posture of a noble son. Fingers tapping his sword’s pommel. It was odd to see him in so few layers, a borrowed red tunic straining against his muscular arms.
“Patience is a virtue,” he murmured, sharp stare trained on Imani.
It would be a while before they earned his trust after what they’d done to him.
Imani sneered, happy to share in his animosity. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
“Is it now?” He arched a brow.
Tension faded from Imani’s face when Jade placed a hand on her forearm, fingers swiping gently back and forth over her baby blue sleeve. “The castle must have kept you well fed,” Jade said, angling her head, examining Castellan’s face.
“Indeed, they did.” Castellan traced the silver filigree over the sword handle, pursing his lips. “For the most part.”
“Those last few months were rough,” Eris added, elbows propped on the counter.
Vegetable peelings and sprigs of dried herbs littered the polished wood, a delectable blend of rosemary and summer savory permeating in the air.
He inhaled deeply through his nose and hummed.
“We certainly weren’t eating like this near the end. ”
“Would you have revolted?” Mora asked quietly.
“What?”
She plucked an apple from a white ceramic bowl at the table’s center and rolled the fruit around in her palm. “If you had run out of food, would you have given the rebels what they wanted and ended Dother yourself?”
“I...” Eris’s throat worked. He shot a look at Castellan as if to say, help me. Did he fear she’d turn to smoke and dive on him again if he shared more details of Castle Berwick’s final days?
... Would she?
Candlelight shone on the fruit’s skin, tumbling over streaks of red and yellow. Despite the saliva pooling on her tongue, Mora couldn’t convince herself to take a bite. Her stomach turned as she awaited their answer, Dother’s laughter pressing against her skull.
Had she been wrong to assume they’d turn on him once the food stores were gone?
Castellan’s hand stilled. “That’s a complicated question, Princess,” he said, voice grave.
A muscle ticked in her jaw, nails digging into her fruit until its juice dripped down her fingers.
“Not really,” she replied, with less venom than she felt.
“There are few things more visceral than our need to eat. The desperation that comes with hunger, well... it’s worth killing a tyrant king over, anyway. ”
He shook his head. “Eris and I were making plans, but you’ve seen for yourself, Mora; appeasing the masses wasn’t as simple as handing them the king’s head.”
“Certainly. But you can’t deny things would have been different.
” She sighed, dropping the apple on the table, watching it roll until it bumped into the bowl.
Studying the Halflings in her periphery.
“Regardless, I think Imani was saying patience comes with the knowledge that your next meal is a guarantee. Not everyone has that privilege. A lesson you may have learned in those final days.”
“Don’t speak for me,” Imani hissed, nostrils flaring. As she glared at Mora, the fruit split, two green leaves sprouting from within. “They may not have taught me courtly manners in the years I spent in a glorified prison on Cannamar, but I can fucking speak for myself.”
“Can we not!” Eris barked, earthenware bowls plinking against one another as he pulled a few free from the cupboards.
He used his forearm to push the peelings aside and plopped the dishes down.
“You and Jade promised to give this a chance. And, for the love of the gods, don’t destroy my kitchen with your trees.
” Swiping a wooden ladle from its hook over the hearth, he turned, face grave when he pointed it at the Halflings.
Though he couldn’t hide the mirth in his eyes.
“It’s the least you two owe me for taking you in. ”
Jade cupped Imani’s cheek. “She was trying to be kind, Mani.”
They stared at one another until Imani leaned her forehead against Jade’s and took a deep breath. The apple sprout curled, shrinking back into the fruit until it disappeared.
“Thank you, Jade! I know who I’m making pleading eyes at next time I piss Imani off,” Eris declared, twirling the ladle lazily around his fingers, dark eyes landing on Mora. “Not sure how I’ll manage the same with you, Vicious Thing. Though your wrath seems like something I wouldn’t mind.”
“I somehow doubt that,” Mora shot back, pulse racing. Her gaze trailed up the muscular forearms straining against his long sleeves before she paused to admire his broad shoulders. It was no surprise he was a King’s Guard—Eris was built.
Would the feel of those arms around her be as comforting as the Fae’s? It was almost as if someone had plucked him from her dreams and made him human, his features close enough she could pretend, if she wished.
Though, did she? Sweat pooled in her sticky palms, joining the apple juice clinging to her skin, her fingers trembling as her mind wandered. This desire was terrifying—when she dreamed it felt natural, but... could she stand to have someone touch her in the waking world?
Castellan stretched by her side, shoulder brushing gently against hers. It lasted a second, yet she flinched, her pulse morphing from a flutter to a pounding rush in her ears.
No. No she couldn’t.
Flashes of azure haunted her and she knew exactly what Dother would say.
Dreams and nightmares are intertwined, Treasure. Test me and I’ll show you how thin the veil between them can be.
Mora looked away, back to the knot in the table, but she felt those dark eyes watching her until Castellan interrupted.
“You have yet to tell me how you all met,” he said, leaning back in his chair.
“Must we get into that?” Eris whined.
Imani giggled, running her hand idly through Jade’s shoulder-length hair. “Afraid you’ll look bad, huh?” Her voice lowered after she pressed a delicate kiss to her lover’s crown. “Should we tell them, angel?”
Jade worried her lip. “If Eris trusts them, then I suppose we can too.” She leaned into Imani’s touch, brow wrinkling with worry.
“Some guards prefer the old ways—there were a few of them in the mob today, actually. They were always quick to get violent with Halflings, so we made it our mission to learn about every guard who passed through here. It helps to know who to avoid and when to be extra cautious.”
Fury flared in Mora’s bright eyes, her fingers curling into tight fists—was that why Arlen had recognized her?
Who among the crowd had served the castle?
Or... served to destroy it? Not simply by joining the siege, but by abusing their power and fostering the flames of fear and hatred consuming Berwick.
Imani gave Mora a once-over, her upper lip curling, the motion pulling at her scar; if she read the emotions on Mora’s face, she was unimpressed.
“Then, Eris rolls into town and decides to make it his business to learn about every damned Halfling he could find,” Imani added with a bemused smile, ruddy brown eyes flicking to the guard in question. “Why don’t you tell them how Jade and I almost killed you?”
He pursed his lips, tapping his finger on his chin. “I’d rather not.”
“Oh, but it’s so funny.”
Castellan snickered. “I’d certainly like to hear it.”
“You’re making me sound like a fool.” Eris sighed, dunking the ladle into the pot.
Chunks of chicken and vegetables splashed into the bowls, bits of broth slipping over the sides.
“I noticed you following me, so I followed you instead. Your attempt to kill me, as you like to call it, is what outed you.”
“Mmhmm,” Jade hummed, the sound ending with a snicker.
Imani joined in, her laughter light and airy, so unlike the hard front Mora was growing used to. “Whatever makes you feel better.”
“Have I not kept you safe these last couple weeks?” he asked with mock indignation, plopping their meals down in front of them. Pieces of potato swayed on the surface as the soup settled, savory steam drifting upward to tease their senses.
It was Jade who answered. “Do you want our praise?”
He pouted, sliding into the seat at the head of the table, spoon in hand. “A little recognition wouldn’t hurt.”
Imani rolled her eyes. “How about a few answers? You did promise to give us some of those.”
“Yes, how do you plan to save the Halflings?” Jade asked.
Mora tried her best to ignore the flutter in her stomach when Castellan and Eris shared a look. What had the gallant knight dragged her into? “I’m with them; whatever you’re planning, it’s time you let us know.”
The scrape of Castellan’s chair over worn hardwood made Mora flinch. He stood, hand coming to rest on the back of her chair, a dark curl caught beneath his palm. “There’s only so much we can do with what little power we have. If we want to make change, we’ll ultimately need more influence.”
A chill ran up Mora’s spine. She turned in her seat to look up at him, numb to the sting in her scalp when her hair ripped free from his grip. “What exactly are you proposing?” she asked, silently begging him to say anything but what she knew was coming.
The sag in his posture was minute, but Mora didn’t miss the dip in his shoulders or the pity brewing in his stormy eyes as he backed away a step. “When the time comes, you and I will take the throne.”