Chapter 13 #3
“Very much so,” he whispers. Our eyes lock for a moment and I swear I can see an ounce of that pain behind his gaze.
Eager to feel more warmth, I swim past him, confident the dark skies hide most of my body. Flipping on my back, I float and still my limbs. I do love swimming.
Changing the subject, I think of the only thing boggling my mind right now.
“Who were we to each other?”
Cedric shifts in the water. My eyes are still trained on the moon, but I feel the waves as he drifts closer.
“Well, that is a loaded question, Liv.”
I flip back up and begin treading water again. From this angle, Cedric’s face is completely illuminated.
“How so?” I frown.
“If I tell you everything, I risk overwhelming you. If I hold back, I risk losing what sliver of trust you have for me.”
I hate to say it, but he has a point.
“Tell me half of it right now. Explain fifty per cent of what we are to each other.” I wade a bit closer, not wanting to mishear what he has to say.
Cedric releases a breath and slicks back his hair with the water.
“We were childhood best friends. We share a birthday and our parents raised us together. If one of us had a first, both of us had a first. We argued and sometimes stayed silent for weeks on end. Actually, we spent one whole season in silence over an argument. But we always came back together, whether it was as friends, enemies, confidants or… lovers.” He struggles on the last word.
His features sharpen for a moment as he twists away from me slightly.
I sigh and do the same.
“I think what we mostly were to each other wasn’t a physical connection, it was spiritual. That is the part I miss the most.” We’re now facing each other, floating aimlessly in a lake in a kingdom I have never heard of.
“Thank you,” I whisper. His honesty seems so unscripted and raw. If this was a ruse, he could fool an army.
Cedric and I change into our dry clothes and just when I think he is going to fast-sprint us to the castle, he doesn’t. I’ve already wrapped my arms around him for no reason at all.
“Are we going to go?” I ask, loosening my grip a bit.
“I—” he starts, pausing to laugh. “I wanted to walk a little before that.”
I withdraw my hands and smooth out my dress. The sticky feel of awkwardness pulls at my skin.
“Let’s walk then,” I say, clearing my throat. Cedric laughs again and begins walking into the grove of pine trees. I follow next to him, slightly struggling to keep up with his pace.
“How long until you fast-sprint us there again? I want to steel my stomach beforehand,” I say, picking my skirts up to avoid the pull of branches.
“Fast-sprint?” Cedric chokes out, folding himself in half as he laughs.
I stop too, caught off guard by the sudden comfortableness in this moment.
A host of fine lines crinkle by his eyes as he tries to catch his breath.
I fold my arms, not sure what was funny.
He reels back in, only laughing again at my stance.
“It’s called apparating, officially,” he says as he shoves away his last laugh. “Only vampyr can do it.”
“All vampyr?” I say and he smiles.
“We can travel through little blips in the world, we just have to have some visual context to where we are going. Imagining a forest or a distance, a clearing we are aware of. Shorter distance gives more opportunity for guessing but longer distance is the challenge. We simply appear or yeah, the opposite.”
A thought dawns on me. “Then why did we apparate here together?”
Cedric stills. His face tenses but his body eventually slackens, hands going back in their pockets. “Safety and you don’t have your powers back, remember?”
We make it about twenty minutes before coming upon a large home adjacent to two other connected smaller cottages.
Large pine trees sprout from the middle of them, shooting into the night sky.
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The homes are faded golden-yellow, like the color of the dirt my ceiling was made of at the farm.
It starkly contrasts with the deep browns and greens of the forest and its floor.
We follow a stone path which forks, one route leading to the rounded front door and the other to the side of the cottage.
The house is teeming with energy. Through the windows I can see bodies packed together.
We take the path to the side of the house, but I still arch my neck to see the liveliness of the party indoors.
Behind the cottage is a courtyard lit with the light of firepits, shadows being cast on the trees surrounding the place.
Musical notes float through the air. There are twice as many people filling the outdoor space but it feels less stifling than the dining hall at Demis.
From one of the side doors, a person exits the cottage, striding towards us.
“Do you give me permission to touch you?”
“What?” I gasp.
“No.” He smirks. “Not like that. Trust me?”
The male stumbles around a large stump and I quickly nod my head. Cedric reaches for my hand, pulling me to him. Lazily, he throws an arm over my shoulder, his hand resting on it.
“State your business,” the male says as he approaches.
I expect him to shirk under Cedric’s glare, his presence, his kingship, but the male simply does not show any sign he recognizes who he faces.
The light barely gets through here, but he looks about middle-age and slightly drunk.
His body is smaller in stature than Cedric’s, but I can tell he is also vampyr.
My magic seems to respond in an odd way when I’m near one.
“We were drifting around Spring Lake and saw the smoke. We figured someone is celebrating or lighting the forest on fire,” Cedric answers, squeezing my shoulder. Realizing we’re playing a part, I lean into his touch awkwardly and smile.
The man huffs, folding his arms. He looks unfazed by Cedric’s attempt at a joke.
Cedric continues. “So, which is it? Party or pyro?”
I smile tightly, unsure what is expected of me in this situation. I’ve lied before. Some days I couldn’t tell the truth from the lies when I had to negotiate at the market. If life were easier for me when I was in my coma, perhaps my tongue would have lost its silver.
The revelry gatekeeper looks back and forth between Cedric and me. He turns from us and begins walking back to the cottage, no words given. Cedric and I look to each other.
Do we follow? Do we continue walking?
Do we apparate so we don’t get murdered?
The man stops and gestures with his arm to follow, not even looking back at us.
Again, we look to each other for support. I shrug, giggling at the situation. Cedric responds by taking the lead and begins to walk forward, tugging me with him.
“How did he not recognize you? And what are we doing?” I whisper from the side of my mouth. Cedric moves his hand from my arm. I slacken my shoulders, feeling my breath come back since I lost it back there.
His hand finds mine again and I suck in a breath. The touch alone sends shivers down my spine. The amount of touching is completely unexpected and nearly too comfortable.
“Not everyone has seen my portrait when they send it around the continent. Plus, I have been away or secluded most of my life. It was a longshot so, I say, let’s be normal.
I want to see how my people live. And honestly, we both could live a little, too.
” Cedric loosens his grip on my hand but still holds it well enough.
He asked for permission.
“They won’t know who you are?” I ask, imagining the scenario. He’s their king, how would they not notice him?
“Let’s hope not. My portrait made its way around from my youth but it has been years. I hope I look a little better now.”
The man opens a gate, leading us into the back courtyard of the cottage. I latch it shut before letting Cedric pull me forward. The light brightens as we turn the corner.
A medium-sized crowd is gathered, mingling as if all great friends. To the side, a small quartet of musicians strum through notes, caught in their own sounds. Perhaps a wedding.
To my left, a door to the cottage opens, a few men and women filing out. The women hold each other’s hands and when the men come out, they too hold steadfast as one leads the other into the crowd. Firepits are spread throughout the yard, drawing small groups of people over.
The air is scented with mead, wine and blood. Of course it would be, but my stomach pangs with hunger.
The man stops and turns to us, folding his arms again. In the light, he looks as old as Ma, hair mostly gone grey.
“Hope you like mead,” he says. I raise an eyebrow at him. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. Nephew just had his Bloodrite, if you’re wondering.”
Cedric steps forward and claps the man on the shoulder.
“Thank you,” Cedric says as we walk into the crowd. I slide my body past women and men who are aimlessly dancing around each other. We move into the middle of the crowd, Cedric turning to say something. This close to him, our chests inches apart, it feels intimate.
“Isn’t this exciting?” He has a boyish grin on his face, his eyes jumping from person to person. Is he truly that awestruck by peasants?
Someone bumps into my back, pushing me forward and into Cedric. We both lean, nearly bumping someone else. Busy with observing the crowd’s movement, I can feel Cedric’s stare. Not see, feel. I look up and Cedric grins, swaying his hips.
“Dancing?” I ask, now watching him sway towards me, his tempo matching the crowd and the music.
He grabs my arms and pulls me forward into the denser crowd. His eyes are intent and he starts swaying again, practically forcing me to join.
“This is what normal people do, right?” he asks, now wiggling my arms around. I twirl under his arms and in this moment I am so delightfully happy that I forget where I am altogether.
“Yes, I think normal people dance,” I say, shoving the nervous pit in my stomach away.
The musicians finish the song and the crowd responds with applause. Cedric and I tear our gazes to the small stage.