Awake
Iwasn't sure how much time had passed before I opened my eyes. My legs were curled beneath me in the oversized chair inside Eravic's hut.
The memory was still there. My mother's voice. Her handwriting. Her promise.
A promise was made. When it is offered, accept it.
I sat up.
"Eravic."
He looked over immediately.
"I want it."
His brow furrowed. "The Arrolyn?"
I nodded. "My mother told me to accept what was offered." I swallowed. "She spent years trying to protect me. I am done letting things she fought for sit untouched because I am afraid."
His expression changed.
He reached inside his cloak and pulled out a small wrapped object.
"You just... carry it around?"
He shrugged. "Safest place for it."
"Your cloak is the safest place for one of the most important objects in existence?"
"At the moment, yes."
I stared at him.
He sighed. "I understand how that sounds."
"It sounds like something a person says before losing something incredibly important."
A faint smile touched his mouth. "Come here."
I immediately narrowed my eyes. "That sounded suspiciously like an order."
"It was not."
"Good. Because I am royalty."
"Yes. A very tired, poisoned royalty who just woke up from a memory stone."
I ignored that.
He unwrapped the Arrolyn. "I need you to understand something. I can place it. It will strengthen you somewhat, perhaps allow you to cross the wards a small amount like we discussed before. But I won’t activate it tonight.”
"Why?"
"Placing it and waking it are different things. Waking it has more consequences and isn’t a decision I’ll let you make tonight.”
“I thought you only had Vaelor abilities, not those of a Siren or Saren or whatever your kind are called.”
He chuckled. “Yes. If I have Saren gifts they won’t be awakened until Sarenal’s wards open.”
“Don’t you need those…gifts to put it in me?”
He held it carefully. "The Arrolyn was forged to recognize bloodline, not magic. I do not need Saren power to place it."
"And you know how?"
A pause. "Not exactly."
"Eravic."
"The ones who created it accounted for that. If the placement is wrong, if the timing is wrong, if anything about it is not correct—" He shrugged. "It will not take."
"So your plan is to press an ancient magical object into my chest and hope?"
"When you say it like that, it sounds less reassuring."
"It sounds exactly as alarming as it is."
He laughed. "I will not force it. If you are uncomfortable, we wait."
I looked down at the Arrolyn, then back at him. "My mother trusted you."
His expression softened. "Yes."
"So do I."
A long silence. Then: "Will it hurt?"
His expression turned serious. "I do not know."
My eyebrow lifted. "You do not know?"
"I have never done it before."
"And yet you are the one doing it?"
"I am apparently the most qualified person available."
"That is not comforting."
"It was not intended to be."
I looked at the Arrolyn in his hand. It was smaller than I would have expected. Black and smooth and small, about the size of the tip of an arrow.
I frowned. “It looks quite unimpressive. Are you sure you found the right one?”
He barked a laugh. “There is only one, and I am certain this is correct. Whenever I hold it I feel the ancestors whispering.”
“How strange,” I murmured. In truth it sounded terrifying to have dead relatives whispering and even worse yet that he has been carrying it in his cloak which means he must have them whispering at him all day.
I decide not to ask further questions.
“I am ready,” I said.
I unlaced the top of my leather dress, relieved that the corset was front facing tonight. I closed my eyes and said “Hurry up, then.”
I heard him chuckle and lean over. He placed it on the center of my chest. It felt cold and metal. “Are you with me?”
“Yes, because you haven’t done anything—”
A jolt of harsh, electric pain rushed through me before I could finish my sentence. I heard him say my name, his voice sounding worried. Then everything went dark.
When I opened my eyes, I was still in the chair, this time with a blanket over me.
“How long did I sleep?” I said immediately.
Colsar. I still needed to find him tonight.
“About an hour,” Eravic said calmly. He handed me a glass of water. “Does anything hurt?”
I stared down at my chest. “No, just a small ache from when you shoved it into my chest.”
He rolled his eyes. “I did not shove it. I gently placed it on top of your chest and the magic did the rest.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Lies. You most certainly shoved it in there.” I raised a hand before he could speak. Then I stretched my arms and legs, staring down at them. “Luckily for you, I feel better than I ever have since dying,” I said.
It was true. I felt lighter. Energetic. Almost like myself before all of this. I looked at the loosened front ties of my dress and began to tie them. It was not cold in here at all. He had likely placed the blanket over me to cover up my very-exposed cleavage.
A gentleman, most certainly.
I sat up. “Am I supposed to feel this lovely? I feel incredible.”
“Aye,” Eravic said. “The healer told me you will feel better in the night time, but in the day you’ll likely feel tired, and you may find that the cough returns or even worsens.”
I nodded, unbothered by the daytime consequences. There was not much to do in this sordid kingdom anyway. Sleep was probably the most interesting daytime activity available.
I looked around the room. “So you stayed here the whole time, watching me sleep?”
“You drool quite a bit, so it was more entertaining that you’d imagine.”
Without intending to, I immediately rubbed my face. It was dry.
I narrowed my eyes. “More proof that you can lie, Lord Vaelor.”
He laughed. “Drool dries, you know.”
I glanced at the pile of coins on the table, picked one up, and threw it at him.
He ducked.
"Your aim is as terrible as your gambling."
"You know, one time I gambled with Sevrin, and he found my gambling skills impressive."
"Did he now?"
"Not really. Maybe." I frowned. "In truth, I forgot to ask."
A laugh escaped him.
"That isn't the point," I insisted. "The point is that I'm an excellent gambler and now that I have this Arrolyn I bet my skills have only improved, despite the fact that I am likely still slightly drunk on antidote poison.”
He blinked.
"Antidote poison?"
"Clearly that's what that is.” I gestured toward the empty vial from earlier. "It tastes like something one would use to scrub the palace floors after a cow wandered inside and left dung everywhere."
Eravic nearly spat out his drink.
"Why would a cow be inside the palace?"
"It was a metaphor, Lord Eravic." I sighed dramatically. "Do they not teach such things in ship school?"
"I, unfortunately, never received an extensive education in shit."
I reached for another coin.
Before I could throw it, one struck me squarely on the nose.
"Ow." I rubbed it with a scowl. "That hurt."
"Like your ego the next time I beat you.”
He chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. Then he took another sip of his drink.
I narrowed my eyes.
"You said you didn't have ale. I thought Vaelors couldn't lie.”
"They can't."
"But this isn't ale?"
"It is a brew."
I rolled my eyes.
"Clearly they did teach deceptive semantics in ship school."
His jaw twitched.
"I never attended a ship school."
"Then wherever one learns to become this insufferable."
His mouth betrayed another smile.
"Why am I somehow tired and awake at the same time?" I paused. “And giddy, too.”
"The Arrolyn and the treatment will do that." He leaned back in his chair. "You'll feel more alert at night and exhausted during the day until we can get you the antidote."
"Ah." I nodded. "You did tell me that."
"As for the giddiness..." His grin returned. "I am both charming and amusing, so the explanation seems obvious."
I reached for another coin.
Another flew at me first.
I ducked.
"You nearly took out my eye, Sir Eravic."
He laughed.
I smiled despite myself. Something in my chest warmed. My new knowledge of the past had made something in me lift, as though I had always wondered why the Baron hated me and now I finally understood. The hurt was not gone, but it had certainly lifted.
Moreover, one thing had become very clear these past few days: my mother had loved me.
“I am glad you appreciate my humor," I said. "I had forgotten I still possessed any."
His smile softened.
"Has it been that way since arriving in Morrath... or since arriving at Rathmor Palace last year?"
The room fell quiet.
I looked down at my hands.
"Are you implying, Lord Eravic, that without your sailor humor I am incapable of joy?"
A slow smile spread across his face.
"I'm implying—"
"Do you have any sweets?" I looked around the hut. Chocolate would be exceptional.
A strawberry cake even better.
Strawberry cake. Colsar. Fuck. I needed to go.
His laugh escaped before he could stop it.
"I absolutely do not have sweets.”
I tilted my head. “The same way you don’t have ale?"
"The same way you're not a lad."
I thought of Colsar, the tunnel, and everything waiting outside these walls.
I stood up carefully. I did not feel dizzy. I felt strong. “I should go."
"Tomorrow, then."
"Tomorrow, Lord Eravic."
“I prefer just Eravic.”
"Sir Eravic."
"Asharin."
"Eravic of the Sea."
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"It really isn't that difficult.”
"Duke Eravic of the Dunes."
I frowned.
"Wait... dunes are sand."
A thoughtful pause.
"Duke Eravic of the Seas of Doom."
I waited.
He considered it.
"I'm not convinced that's an improvement."
"I'll continue practicing."
By the time I left the shoreline, I was surprised to find Fiersa waiting for me.
"Why are you here?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise.
"I considered myself thoughtful enough to leave sweet bread beside your bed," Fiersa said. "Imagine my disappointment when I found your room empty. Naturally, I was forced to investigate."
"Stalk."
She ignored me.
"Without me, you'd be eaten by creatures of death before you could even protest."
"I thought they abhorred leather." I gestured toward my dress.
"I abhor water," she replied, looping her arm through mine, "but I'd still drink it if I were thirsty enough."
Something inside me warmed.
I still hated being dead.
I still missed my children.
I still missed Colsar.
But this was the first evening since arriving in Morrath that it did not feel as though my heart was being ripped from my chest.
"Who exactly abhors water?"
"Fiersa of Morrath," she declared, throwing one hand dramatically toward the sky.
Despite myself, I smiled.
As we passed the tunnel, my eyes lingered on its entrance.
I will come back tonight.
I could not trust anyone here.
Not completely. Not even Fiersa.
The tunnel was mine. So was Colsar. No one would know of either.
When we reached my wing, Fiersa waved lazily over her shoulder.
"Get some rest."
"You as well."
She disappeared around the corner.
I waited.
One minute.
Then I turned, grabbed a lantern from the mantle, and quietly made my way down the back stairway, which was not hard since there was no guard there.
Teorin must have killed whoever used to be stationed there.
I walked out easily. Then made my way away from the palace and back toward the tunnel.