Chapter Forty-Six Riela
Chapter Forty-Six
Riela
I curled my fingers around the edge of the stone bench so I wouldn’t launch myself out of my seat and out of Garrick’s castle
entirely. The one thing he’d wanted for a hundred years could be his for the price of one untrained human mage he barely knew.
Even my value as a focus couldn’t compare, and the favors Garrick owed me couldn’t harm him or his court—and asking him to
decline Roseguard’s offer and leave the door sealed would harm both.
Had Garrick said all those nice things just to soften me up so I wouldn’t fight him when he handed me over? He could’ve sent
me off thinking he didn’t care. This way was almost crueler: he did care, just not enough.
I held his gaze. If he was going to sell me to his nemesis, then he was going to have to do it to my face. “What will you
do?”
His eyes flashed. “Do you really have to ask?”
“No, I suppose I don’t,” I whispered through stiff lips.
Garrick’s head jerked back, then he cursed darkly. “After everything I just told you, you still think I’m going to give you
up.”
“Of course you will. You’ve wanted the door open for a hundred years, and you’ve known me for a matter of weeks. There is
no comparison. Right now I’m useful because I can open the door, but if the door is unsealed, then you no longer need me.”
Fear crept through me like a thief, stealing my ability to think right when I needed it most. I could run, but thanks to the
pendant, it wouldn’t do any good. I chuckled bitterly. My desire to read had really fucked me this time.
Warm hands closed over my shoulders, and I blinked to find Garrick crouching in front of me, his face far too close. “I’m not giving you to Feylan,” he murmured. “I swear it. Not for the door, not for my court, not for anything.”
I frowned. “I don’t understand. This is exactly what you wanted.”
“Do you really think I value you so little?”
“No, but I think you value the door more.”
Garrick looked like I’d slapped him. He let me go and stood, every line of his body taut with tension. He stalked around the
small clearing as a colorful litany of curses spilled from his lips.
“How long do you have to decide?” I asked slowly. If I could break the seal on the door, then Garrick wouldn’t need to hand
me over at all.
Garrick spun to face me, his expression caught somewhere between anger and agony. “There is no decision. I vowed to protect
you, and I just swore I wasn’t handing you over, yet you still don’t believe me.”
I wanted to believe him, but after my father died, my value had been measured by how much others could get out of me: how many rows
would I plant in return for lunch; how many rooms would I clean for a stubby candle or two. I was intimately familiar with
my perceived worth.
And one mediocre mage who couldn’t even stay in Lohka for a single day was worth far less than a fully functional door.
Garrick stormed back to me and leaned down until he was nearly close enough to kiss. His eyes blazed with silver. “I am not
giving you to Feylan.” He bit out each word with furious force.
“But the door—”
“Will open because we opened it, not because I gave you to an enemy in return for a worthless promise.”
“Ahhh,” I breathed, suddenly understanding. He didn’t trust King Roseguard to keep his promise, so keeping me around to open
the door poorly was better than being unable to open it at all.
It wasn’t safety, exactly, but it was better than being carted off to another court. Still, I needed to unseal the door quickly, especially now that Roseguard knew I could travel through it. That information likely wouldn’t increase my life expectancy.
Garrick straightened and frowned down at me like he wanted to keep arguing, but I cut him off. “Why would King Roseguard offer
to let me visit if his ultimate goal was for you to hand me over?”
“So I could tell you that you would be safe in his court and it wouldn’t be a lie.” Garrick’s shoulder lifted. “Some magic
users are better than others at sniffing out lies.”
“Would he keep that promise? If I visited his court, I mean.”
Garrick scowled. “Unlikely. Breaking the rules of hospitality carries heavy consequences, but it’s not difficult to find ways
around them.”
“Why does he want me?”
Garrick’s expression was guarded. “You can open the door. He wants to know why.”
“So do I,” I murmured. I stood on legs that trembled. “Speaking of, we need to return for dinner.”
“We don’t have to go,” Garrick offered quietly. “We can stay and keep searching the library here.”
The temptation was almost impossible to resist, but I’d pulled Garrick and Vastien away earlier without warning Bria. She
was probably frantic, and Garrick’s court would notice his absence at dinner. I couldn’t stay here.
No matter how much I wanted to.
“We should go,” I said with a sigh.
Garrick nodded and extended his elbow. I steeled my spine before crossing the few steps that separated us. His arm was tense
under my fingers, and he didn’t move. I could feel his gaze on my face, but I stared straight ahead.
“Your worth is not tied to your ability to open the door,” Garrick murmured, his voice no less intense for its softness.
He stepped in front of me so I couldn’t avoid his eyes.
“Even if you couldn’t open the door at all and you had no magic, I still wouldn’t hand you over to Feylan.
You are safe with me. You will always be safe with me.
I care for you far more than is wise, Riela. ”
My name on his lips tugged on something low in my belly and warmth seeped into my chest, but a tiny, niggling doubt remained.
“So I’m not just a problem for you to fix?”
His head tilted and he frowned at me in confusion. Humiliated heat climbed my cheeks at the need to explain. “You told me
my problems were your problems.”
His confusion deepened. “Your problems are my problems.”
I flinched and tried to duck away, but he refused to let me go, so I stared at his collar. “I know I can’t keep us in Lohka
as long as you’d like—”
“Is that what you think I meant?” he asked sharply. When I remained silent, he brushed his thumb over my jaw. “It wasn’t an
accusation, Riela. You’re in my court, under my protection. If you have a problem, I will help you solve it. Just like if
I have a problem, I hope you’ll want to help me.”
My gaze darted up, and my eyes widened at the sincerity on his face. “If that’s true, then why won’t you let me help now?
If I focus your power—”
He sighed in exasperation. “It absolutely infuriates me that you are so willing to harm yourself to help me, and before you
interrupt, focusing my power could harm you, little tempest, if not kill you outright.”
“But it might not.”
“That’s not a risk I’m willing to take,” he said.
“Why don’t you trust me?”
He slanted a glare at me. “I do trust you. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to agree to try something that might kill you.”
When I opened my mouth to argue, he quelled me with a look, so I changed topics. “Why doesn’t Vastien trust me?”
“That’s his story to tell, but I can tell you my part of it.” Tension threaded through Garrick’s body. “Many years ago, when the despair of failing to open the door was still fresh and sharp, Feylan convinced a human mage to infiltrate my castle by posing as an innocent.”
My head jerked up, but Garrick’s expression was taut with bitterness and rage.
“Grim was the one who found him and led him back here. The mage was trained and his magic was strong. He stayed for nearly
a year, slowly gaining my trust and friendship—and more.”
“What happened?” I asked softly, my heart aching for him.
“Grim left to patrol and give me and the mage some time alone. The mage seized the opportunity. He tried to kill me, and he
nearly succeeded because my magic was critically low. That was the period when Feylan was trying to starve me out by not opening
the Blood Court’s door. Grim found me near death and nearly killed himself in order to save me.”
“And the mage?”
“I killed him.” Garrick’s voice was absolutely flat, but there was a wealth of pain hidden beneath the simple words.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. Some of my hurt unknotted. Vastien was responsible for Garrick’s safety, and the failure must haunt
him still. He was trusting me far more than I might have, had our situations been reversed.
Garrick blew out a slow breath. “It was a long time ago, but it’s one of the many reasons I want Feylan dead.”
“Why didn’t you just kill me in the forest?” I asked quietly. “Why risk another betrayal?”
“I’m not a monster, Riela. And if you’ll recall, I was highly suspicious of you at first.”
“You say that like you’re not still highly suspicious.”
His eyebrow quirked. “You threw a plate at my head.”
I opened my mouth to argue that I’d been aiming for the lua when I noticed the teasing glint in his eye. I sniffed. “Maybe
you deserved it.”
“Maybe I did, little mage. Maybe I did,” he agreed with a soft smile.
As Garrick guided me away from the moonlight roses and back toward the dais that would take us to Lohka, I quietly asked, “Did you speak to Bria?”
His arm stiffened against my back. “I did. Despite what she might have led you to believe, she has no designs on me romantically.
But the betrothal is convenient for her, since it keeps her family from pushing for a different alliance.”
My heart twisted. Bria might not want him, but she had him nonetheless. “I understand.”
He stopped and turned to me, and his eyes narrowed at whatever he saw on my face. “Do you?”
“Yes. She is your friend, and you’re helping her, which I admire. But as long as the betrothal stands, you and I will be allies
and nothing more.”
“It’s not real.”
“It is in the eyes of your court.”
His jaw locked, but he didn’t try to argue with me. I changed the subject again. We might as well get all of the painful topics
out of the way at once. “Explain why a blood bond is a bad idea.”