27. The Promise
The Promise
“Flora?”
Flora groaned, gripping the blanket to her chin.
“Flora?” he called again. “Pixie, are you in there?”
Her eyes shot open as she remembered where she was. She stumbled to the floor, then pushed away the nightstand from the door before rushing outside.
“Noec?” she said as she emerged from beyond the pillars. He was standing just within the treeline, his shirt tight to his skin with sweat despite the cold. At the sight of her, a bubbling joy overwhelmed his face. He ran to her, and she ran to him.
“Flora, Flora, Flora…” he whispered, pulling her into him and spinning her around.
She giggled as her borrowed shoes glided above the ground. He combed her hair between his fingers, a brightness in his eyes that even put the night lilies to shame.
“Look at you, pockets and all,” he said, and with his smile, he made that stale forest feel as cozy and warm as a midsummer day.
Flora reached to touch the new scar on his cheek, knowing that just his warmth beneath her fingertips would be enough to make her whole again. Her hand hesitated.
“Noec, you shouldn’t be here,” she said.
“What do you mean?” He looked back and forth between her eyes. “Twenty-four hours came and went, and you hadn’t come home. I figured…” he trailed off as he looked over her shoulder. “What is this place?”
She looked beyond the rigid arch of his shoulder.
“Flora?” he implored, turning to follow her gaze.
“You should go,” she said, though her grip on his arm tightened.
Yellow eyes with a ring of fire. He cocked his head and shifted to one side, pulling one hand out of his pocket.
“I haven’t had this many visitors in quite some time,” he said, his velvety voice growing coarse as he gestured toward them.
Noec gently shoved Flora back and drew the dagger from the sheath at his side.
Siren’s eyes lit up, with a twitch in his lip. “Quite a pretty toy you have there,” he said.
“Not that I’d need it,” Noec threatened through his teeth.
“No, I don’t suppose you would,” Siren said, stepping toward them, the black waves of his hair tucked neatly behind his ears. He pointed to Noec’s hand, the jewels of the hilt catching in the pale green light beneath his fingers. “But, I do wonder. Where did you acquire a blade such as that one?”
Noec paused, though his stance held, and the smooth surface of his skin began to crackle. “It was my father’s,” he said curtly.
Siren’s eyes widened further as he continued forward. A grin swept across his lips, though in the flash of his teeth was something dark. Flora looked to his hand and saw where the ash fell beneath his fingertips, having shifted into silver claws like those of his white-eyed scythes.
“You gave me your word,” she said.
He paused, his grin fading, though his lip still twitched. “That I did,” he said, and his hand returned to his pocket. He stopped and looked Noec up and down. “Though I had no idea your ‘friend’ was that deceitful scoundrel’s spawn.”
“You don’t know a thing about my father,” Noec spat, with an acidity that seemed foreign from his tongue.
“Do you?” Siren challenged, his eyes shifting in and out as he caught a glint of ruby. “I watched your father gut mine when I was no more than a child. I’ve never seen a man take such pleasure in the destruction of another.”
His words gave Noec pause, though it seemed his confused expression was not lost on Siren.
Siren sighed, allowing his shoulders to relax just a bit. “Leave. I have business with Florabelle, the terms of which require your absence.”
“No.” Noec shot a brief glance back at Flora. “I swore to you that from now on, where you go, I go.”
“I know,” Flora said softly, her hand tracing his arm down to the dagger. “But, whatever this is, it’s something I have to do on my own. I’ll come back when it’s over.”
Siren sighed. His eyes met hers, though his patience was growing thin.
Flora slipped one hand around Noec’s, the dagger still in his grasp. With the other, she turned his head to face her as her thumb grazed his cheek.
“I’ll come back to you when it's over,” she said softly as his jade eyes searched hers. “I have to do this. So that our village can be a safe place again.”
His brow wrinkled. He didn’t understand.
“That is my promise,” Siren said. “Florabelle does as I say, and your village will be undisturbed—protected, even.” Noec shook his head at Flora, his eyes darting to meet Siren’s, who added, “If I have my way, the entirety of Emyre will cease to suffer at the hands of the Scytherax. But only if you remove yourself from my Forest.”
“Flora, I…” Noec stumbled.
“It’s alright,” she said gently. “I can do this.” She rested her hand on his chest, feeling the heart that raced in his chest. “Do you trust me?”
Noec swallowed, eyes wide upon her as he gripped her hand tight. “Always,” he replied.
Flora leaned in close, murmuring quietly, “It’ll be okay,” before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Come, love,” Siren said, walking past them. He caught Flora’s wrist and pulled it from Noec’s hand. Siren’s face froze at the touch, and she felt his hand begin to stiffen.
Noec snatched Siren’s arm and readied his blade with his other hand. “Harm so much as a hair on her head,” he said, “and I’ll hunt you down and make you beg for death.”
“So, you are no better than him,” Siren said coldly to Noec, his eyes fixed on the shrine ahead. Slowly, he looked down to Flora. There was a shine to his eyes, and his grip still faltered.
Noec let go, though Flora worried there would be no convincing him to leave.
“Please, Noec,” Flora said, sadness stinging behind her own eyes. “Please do this for our people.”
“I meant it, Flora.”
“I know you meant your promise, but this is bigger...”
“I meant it when I said ‘I love you’,” he said, and her breath caught in her throat. With a sharp inhale, Siren’s grip tightened.
“I...” Flora stuttered. She had to say it—she had always wanted to say it. Why couldn’t she say it now? Her brow furrowed as it struck her.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. She turned away just as her eyes began to well.
She couldn't say she loved him. Because those words would only be a thorn in his heart when she never came back to him. She walked on ahead beside Siren, not letting herself look back at Noec. Siren’s grip loosened on her wrist, but she could still feel the burn of his eyes on her.
“I’ll see you when it’s over,” Flora assured him. “I promise.”
Before Siren closed the door behind them, Flora caught just a passing glimpse of Noec with his dagger hanging limply at his side, staring at them. Flora cupped her mouth and fought the burning in her eyes. Siren didn’t deserve to see her tears.
“How on earth did he find this place...?” Siren muttered. His eyes flicked to Flora. “And why didn’t you... I know what you felt, so why didn't you say anything?”
Flora closed her eyes and lowered her hand from her lips. She steadied her breathing and glared up at him. She saw on his face that he knew exactly why.
Before a single tear could fall, she locked herself behind the bedroom door, and from then on there was nothing she could do to hold them back.
A day or two passed—it was hard to tell without a drop of sunlight ever touching her skin.
Flora sat across from Siren at the dinner table, staring down at the steaming soup in front of her. Her stomach rumbled, but she wasn’t hungry in the slightest. Her eyes felt raw and swollen.
“Can I help?” he asked suddenly, resting his elbows on the table. “If you’ll allow me, I can make the pain go away.”
“No,” she replied. “I want to feel this.”
He seemed puzzled at her response. “Why?”
“Because this should hurt,” she said, challenging the fire in his eyes with her own. “It should hurt to hurt him. Because I’m not ever really coming home to him, am I?”
Siren’s mouth opened, then slowly closed once more. Of course, she was right.
“My mother says she would like to meet you tomorrow, if you’re amenable,” he said, stirring his soup mindlessly.
“You say that like I really have a choice.”
He scoffed, but didn’t deny it.
There was a little comfort, though, in the thought that he still needed her alive for something. And if he did choose to harm her nonetheless, she found a sick satisfaction in knowing her touch would hurt him as much as he hurt her.
He leaned back and crossed his arms, eyeing her. After a moment, he commented, “I’ve never felt that before.”
She eyed him back, still unsure what to make of him. He hadn’t harmed her yet, but, clearly, there was something more coming. The light of the candle danced along the sheen of his hair, which was hanging down loosely today. They watched each other, but still she didn’t speak.
“What the two of you felt—it hurt,” he continued. “More than I thought it should. But it hurt even more when it was gone.”
“Yes,” Flora said quietly.
“He feels it just as much,” he added hesitantly. “If that helps.”
“Thanks.” She swallowed. “But I can’t say that it does.” His words meant Noec would only miss her all the more. Still, maybe they did bring a bit of selfish comfort.
When they had finished, he collected her dishes and brought them to the kitchen with the ramshackle bed.
“I have one more thing to ask of you,” she said. He smirked, but paused to listen. “Give Feya back to Noec.”
“I can’t just…”
“And why not?”
“Feya is not ‘Feya’,” he explained, setting a bowl down but never looking away from it. “And while she may have the same memories, she has absolutely zero emotion associated with them.”
“But she’s still his sister,” Flora argued.
“And she asked for this.” He turned to face her. “It would hurt him more than anything to see her the way she is now, to know that he could die in her arms and she wouldn’t feel a thing.”
Flora wished desperately that he wasn’t, but she knew that he was right. She rubbed the goosebumps on her arms as the cold chill seeped in from beneath the doorframe.
“There’s nothing at all you can do to bring her back? Even though you’re the one that did this to her?”