Chapter 25 #2
Our guide waited until we’d climbed out before hurrying us through the door, past the kitchen, and into a dark dining hall. Setting the lantern down on the long table, he bid us wait. “I shall fetch the good lord. Stay here.” He said quietly before slipping away.
Sighing with relief, Seraphim pulled down her hood, red locks spilling loose. Percy collapsed into one of the dining chairs, perking up and feeling the cushion. “Wow.” He murmured.
“Here at last,” Seraphim said. “We should be safe now.”
I paused in the pantry door, watching Seth haul his dog up the ladder. Setting down the shaggy mutt, he exhaled from the effort. Tapping the dog’s rear to get Whisper away from the lord’s food stores, Seth touched my arm as he entered the dining room and anxiously paced around the table.
“Are you sure your brother’s people can be trusted?” He asked.
“They’ve served my family for decades,” Seraphim said. “They’re loyal to him.”
“Hm,” Seth peered out the door. “You’d be surprised how little decades can matter to some people.”
Eleos stood beside me, and I stiffened. “I read his thoughts. He was relieved to see Lady Seraphim unharmed.”
“Of course he was.” Seraphim pulled her mask off. “He was steward when I was a child.”
Hurried footsteps echoed down the hall, and a man stepped through the door—Seraphim’s brother, Lord Phaedrus.
Fiery red locks tumbled around the shoulders of his luxurious silk robe, a beautiful black garment trimmed with silver.
His features matched his sisters’: sharp and handsome, but it was his eyes that drew my attention.
Sage-green. Blinking, I rubbed my weary face and met his gaze.
He smiled. “You’re late.” He tutted, striding to meet his sister. “I was beginning to think I’d need to go in your stead.”
Seraphim embraced her brother. An exuberant grin stretched across her face. Genuine happiness. “Sorry. There were a few bumps along the road.” She stepped back. “There is much to tell-”
“Tomorrow.” Phaedrus interrupted. “These are your people? And you trust them?”
“With my life.”
“I’d praise the gods if you didn’t look half-dead.” He said. “I’ll prepare rooms for you. Wait here. And, help yourself to the pantry in the meantime.” Bowing his head, the lord turned and departed.
Percy whistled. “A noble larder and room?”
Seth rolled his eyes as he threw open the kitchen door. “Percy, you were a lord.”
“Only a minor one,” Percy grumbled, chasing after Seth.
My appetite withered into nausea. Wondering what had come over me, I wandered down the dark hall and reclined against the wall, waiting for the steward to return.
Eleos followed me, hands knit hesitantly before him. “Lady Aethra. . .”
Summoning a smile, I folded my arms. “What is it?”
“I can read your thoughts.” He reminded me. “I know how much I hurt you.” He wavered, playing with a strand of his hair. “I’ve been trying to figure out what to say.”
“It’s alright.” I lied. “You were quite clear.”
“No, I. . .” He sighed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt you. But you caught me off guard, and. . .” He stared at me intently. “To say yes would have been cruel. Not when you don’t know the truth about me.”
Shifting, I dropped my arms, remembering what the Grand Cleric had said about psyches’ dangerous abilities. “Your father mentioned some of it.”
“He doesn’t know the full story.” Eleos avoided my gaze. “Far from it. He would lose the last shred of sympathy he still bears for me, were he to learn it.” Blinking, he stepped back. “But it’s more than that. I’m. . . broken.”
His voice cracked, and I stepped forward. “I’m broken, too. Whatever it is you think-”
“You’re not broken, Lady Aethra.” He shook his head. “Not the way I am.”
Grabbing his hand, I cradled it between mine. “Everyone thinks they’re worse than they are. I won’t think any less of you. Tell me the truth. It’ll take a weight off your shoulders.”
“My burdens aren’t yours to bear.”
“Neither are my burdens, yours. But you’ve listened, nonetheless.” I tilted my head, trying to meet his eye.
Eleos finally lifted his head. “Did you often deal with noble bastards?”
“Occasionally. I never transported them myself, but I would oversee their deals.”
“Then you know what happens to lords who consort outside the nobility. What if you had been born a lord’s daughter and fell for a common man?” He asked. “Would you pursue him, putting your child and love in danger?”
“You’re not a lord, Eleos, and neither am I.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “Just answer.”
Lowering my lids, I considered the question. Would I pursue him, knowing how the nobility viewed forbidden affairs? Would I choose my selfish desires over his safety?
“No,” I said. “I wouldn’t.”
Slipping his hand from mine, Eleos gently touched my cheek. “Sometimes, even if you love someone, it’s best to only watch them from afar.”
As his fingers trailed over my skin, my emotions shifted. Buried deep in my breast, Eleos found the nugget of hope I’d been carrying. Hope that he might return my feelings. Hope that we might succeed. It bloomed within me, swelling my chest with boundless light.
Exhaling, I felt like a thousand pounds had lifted from my shoulders. But they’d come crashing back the moment Eleos’ spell ended.
A lantern shone through the hall, matching my fake emotions. The old steward returned. “The first room is ready.” He said.
Eleos gently pushed me. “Go ahead. You need rest.”
Frowning at him, I dragged my heels as I followed the steward, gaze fixed on the scholar behind me.
I looked away only when we turned a corner and ascended the grand stairway.
In the darkness, and in my exhaustion, I paid no mind to the details around me: we might as well have been walking through a featureless, black space.
My eyes drooped and my steps slowed as we walked down a hallway. Eventually, the steward stopped, pulling open a door and beckoning me inside. A candle glowed on a nightstand, illuminating a bed. Overcome with fatigue, I limped toward it, yanked the sheets off, and collapsed on the pillow.
The door clicked behind me, the last noise I heard before darkness consumed the world.
Eleos had never looked at me the way Seth did. Never. Maybe romance wasn’t in the cards for us.
But I wanted to protect him. To hold him close, listen to his troubles, and tell him it would be okay.
Two words echoed in my dreams, fractured and painful. “I’m broken.”