40. Mare
Mare
Icould scarcely see the tree of my people anymore. By the time we escaped the storm’s bounds, its silhouette had melded with the night.
Fire burned behind me, where the others made camp. I stood with my arms tightly folded, trying to parse through my feelings.
Worry, disappointment, grief . . . they swirled within me, loud as the storm.
Reaching up, I pulled off my circlet. My mother’s circlet. Intertwining twigs, decorated with brilliant purple flowers.
Myrmidon crowns were woven from the great tree’s fallen branches. I ran my thumb across the wood, trying to still the sorrow surging through my heart.
My mother's necklace lay between my collarbones, cold iron against my skin. She and our tree had always been with me, through this necklace she had left behind.
“It’s unusual.” Reese’s voice drew me from my reverie. “For Brighid’s theories to be wrong.”
He stood beside me, hand balanced on his pommel. “I can’t imagine how disappointed you are.”
“At least I’m alive,” I said, returning the circlet to my brow. “Now I have nothing to bring my king, and nothing to win the people’s favor.”
Reese looked down at me, fingers dancing on his pommel. He always seemed to know what to say. How to comfort others.
In this moment, he knew to say nothing. I did not want to hear pointless platitudes about how I’d done enough already.
Because it wasn’t true.
He stepped closer and took my hand. “I’m sorry it has to be this way.”
Falling silent, he watched the distant storm with me. Warmth bloomed on the back of my hand, where his thumb drew comforting circles.
It was wrong to feel grateful for the closeness—to want to lean into him and collapse.
I could not trust him. And he could not trust me.
“Reese.” I lifted my head. “When we return to Aenir—what then?”
“That depends,” he said. “Someone is waging war on Forlaith. If they’ve come to Aenir, we will assist in its defense.”
“And if they haven’t?”
“Then we’ll personally seek them out—and ensure their war ends.”
Nodding, I watched his thumb trace across my skin.
Reese had been softer with me recently. And I was beginning to think my injury had little to do with it.
“You should get some rest,” he urged. "Come on.”
He placed a hand on my back, guiding me toward the campfire. Liam and Bláth stood together by the fire, arms folded, glaring at each other.
Were they flirting or quarreling? I could never tell.
Pausing by the fire, I tried to eavesdrop on them. Reese must have been nosy, too—he loitered with me.
Bláth planted her hands on her hips. "I don't believe you."
"It's all true." Liam folded his arms. "Ask me to bake something for you—you'll see."
"Well, I won't say no to that. But it sounds like so much work for a simple ruse."
"Can a man not have a hobby?"
"According to Mare, scouting wealthy manors for valuables is your hobby," Bláth teased.
Liam scoffed and looked away.
Reese leaned toward me. "Is there something going on between them, you think?"
"I can't tell," I whispered back. "Liam seems like he can't stand her half the time."
"Bláth seems to like him." Reese peered at them over his shoulder.
I studied his face, desperately searching for signs of jealousy. A tick or a frown to imply he wanted Bláth's attention for himself.
But I saw only nosy curiosity.
Relief surged through my chest.
I caught my brother’s eye, and he smiled insincerely at me. For the past few hours, he’d pretended all was normal.
I knew it wasn’t. Back in the mountain village, he'd signaled to me a need to speak alone, about something important. We had yet to find a moment to ourselves.
Breathing in the warmth of the fire, I turned away.
Reese escorted me to my tent, pulling the flap aside for me to duck through. He lingered on the threshold. “Do you need anything?”
“You’re not my servant,” I said, kicking my bedroll open. “What happened to not coddling me?”
“It's getting harder, each passing day.”
“Why?” I placed a hand on my hip. “Am I growing more pathetic by the hour? Are you beginning to doubt you can mold me into a weapon?”
“Not at all.” Reese’s confident stance shattered. He reddened and played with his hair. “It’s just, well—”
Brighid shoved him out of the way and stepped into my tent. “I always knew you’d make a wretched teacher.” She flicked her fingers. “Shoo. I need words with the lady before we let her sleep.”
Reese scowled like he wanted to toss Brighid from the tent. Breathing in, he calmed himself. “What’s wrong?”
“It's called girl talk, Reese. Take a hint.”
Sighing, he rolled his eyes. “I’ll take first watch and wake you for second, Sunshine. Call if Brighid tries to dissect you.”
My eyebrows flew up as he walked away, the tent flap fluttering closed behind him.
"Sunshine?" Brighid questioned.
"That's his name for me, when he's in a good mood."
Fiery veins still traced across Brighid’s skin.
She rubbed her eyes. “You’ve been acting like a grieving widow, but there’s no cause to despair.
” Lowering her arm, she pointed at Cierthine on my hip.
“We’ve learned something valuable—Cierthine has everything to do with that storm.
Never before has a Paragon weapon disobeyed its living wielder. ”
“Save for when it disobeyed Killian,” I mused, shifting my leg to better see my sword.
“But why?” Brighid rubbed her eyes again. “I need to sleep on it.” She chuckled. “Curse you all, for leaving Ferris to his fate in Tsuyan.”
“I doubt he’s still there. In fact, I’d bet my inheritance that the little delinquent’s broken out of his jail.”
Brighid stared at me, ruby eyes burning into me like flames. I thought she might say something, but she didn’t.
“Rest well, Lady Rohan,” she said, slipping back outside.
Alone in the darkness of my tent, I considered going out and checking on Liam. The storm had battered and bruised me, and exhaustion won out. Removing my sword belt, I crawled onto my bedroll and curled up, hoping to silence the swirling thoughts running through my skull.
Sleep didn’t come, though the hours trickled by.
I tossed and turned, waiting for Reese to wake me for the second watch. It felt like a lifetime had passed by, in agonizing boredom and tumultuous, unsteady thoughts.
Sitting up, I pulled out my broken pocket watch and checked the time. I didn’t know why I bothered. The hour hand was still damaged, endlessly twitching between four and five.
Whatever the case, I was certain more coddling was occurring.
Reese did not intend to wake me for the second watch.
Grabbing my sword, I strode out into the darkness. Reese sat on a rock by the dying embers, watching the darkness that led toward the wall.
“Surely,” I said. “It's far past time for me to take over.”
Reese glanced over his shoulder. “I must have lost track of time.”
“Is that right?” I arched an eyebrow.
“I figured you wouldn’t mind the extra sleep when you woke.”
“I couldn’t sleep.” Touching his arm, I beckoned him up. “Let me take over.”
Sighing heavily, he stood. “I’m getting worse at being your knight by the day. Do you remember when I beat you into the ground? I doubt I could spar with you at all, at this rate.”
“Should I irritate you beforehand? That would help you beat me senseless.”
He chuckled, gaze lingering on my face. Eyes narrowing, he drew closer. His thumb brushed my jawline, gently tilting my head. "When did you get this?"
Breath catching, my eyes flicked down to my neck. A burn traced my skin, nearly hidden beneath my tunic's collar. "That must have come from Brighid's shield. I was so distracted, I didn't even notice."
Without removing his thumb, Reese reached into the bag at his hip and produced a vial of poultice. He snapped it open and brushed back my collar.
"The first time I met Ferris," he said, dabbing poultice onto the burn. "He was bleeding out—broken ribs, internal damage. Had I not been there, he would have died. In the years since, he's grown up, but I can't unsee that frightened, dying child."
I swallowed, trying not to look at Reese, trying to breathe.
"It's a bad habit of mine," he murmured. "You can’t keep getting injured like this, Sunshine. I won't stop being overprotective of you any time soon."
"You say that like I don't want your help."
"When I'm done training you." A smile tugged at his lips. "You will be an army on your own. And I'll have to learn to trust you."
Reese folded my collar down, studying his work.
"I understand," I chuckled. "I feel the same about Liam."
"I've lost so much, and I just . . . " He sighed, lowering his hand. "I don't want to lose anyone else."
My body tensed under his gaze. I should step away, out of his reach. I should stop this before it could truly begin.
But I didn’t move.
Reese grabbed a stray lock of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. Warring emotions battled on his face. One moment, I swore he was going to close what little distance separated us. The next, I could tell he was thinking the same thing I was.
Romance between us was forbidden.
Averting his gaze, Reese stepped back. “Bláth’s got third watch. She sleeps like the dead—kick her if you need to.”
Mentioning Bláth shattered the moment. I nodded. “I’m not sure she’d appreciate that from me, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
Reese offered a slight smile and returned to his tent. He paused and glanced over his shoulder, golden eyes watching me. Longing.
I returned the same look. Wishing things could be different.
A heavy exhale fled my lungs when Reese disappeared through his tent flaps.
Collapsing onto the rock, I stared into the darkness, tracing the distant shape of trees and flower bushes. Spring was coming. The air had warmed, and the snow melted, revealing new growth. It was the only spot of good news in an otherwise disastrous life.
Resting my chin on my hand, I turned toward Liam’s tent. Worry gnawed at my gut. We hadn’t talked about what was going on with him. There hadn’t been time.
Maybe now would do.
Standing, I walked over to his tent and gently parted the flaps.
There was no one inside.