CHAPTER 41 - Endure It
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Rumor traveled fast through halls of Lavender Castle. Some said the fleet was nothing but charred husks scattered along the coast. Others whispered the sabotage came from within, a treasonous hand hidden in his own ranks.
Whatever the truth, I cherished it.
Even if he rebuilt his shipyards, even if he commanded the shipwrights to work day and night, there would not be enough time to gather all the wood needed. And without ships, Sylvos could not hope to defeat Driftwoode.
This knowledge gave me a sense of peace for the time being.
Most of my days passed on the balcony overlooking the letter office.
When it wasn't Ryn keeping me company, it was my two companions.
Virella would sit with me often, fingers busy with her embroidery, while Sireen hummed to herself, feeding the vylnir scraps of meat.
The day before the Emperor's Birthday Ball, the air in the fortress shifted. For a fleeting moment, I thought the ball might not happen at all. Perhaps Sylvos would be too occupied looking for the culprit behind his fleet's attack.
But then, the news came...
The emperor had returned.
My mood soured like spoiled wine.
In contrast, excitement bloomed throughout the concubine castles like a disease. The ladies of Lavender fluttered about, gushing over gowns and jewels as though their lives depended on the emperor's gaze. Even Virella's cold composure cracked when her seamstress finally delivered her dress.
Though I suspected her excitement was less about impressing the emperor and more about depressing the Nightshades.
Despite all the commotion, I remained on my balcony throughout the day. By the time the sun set, Virella entered my chambers.
"I haven't seen your dress delivered yet," she remarked, handing me a bowl filled with whatever was served at dinner tonight. "The Ball is tomorrow, you know."
I accepted the food with a thankful smile and chewed on some bread, my gaze returning to the letter office.
"I won't be attending."
Virella's brow arched.
"Why not? You know how important it is to gain rank. If we are to overthrow the Nightshades—"
"I know," I said, cutting her off gently. "And I agree. But I must remain in Lavender for now..."
She rested her hand on her hip, glancing at the letter office, then back at me.
Though I hadn't said my plan to her in any detail, Virella seemed to get the idea.
Maybe it was due to us both being spies in our own right, but there was a silent agreement between us.
Work together but do not divulge. If one of use were to get caught.
.. There are plenty of ways to torture secrets from a person.
It was best we knew only what was needed.
"Very well," she said at last. "I'll wait for you in Dahlia rank then."
I chuckled at that.
"You're that confident in a promotion?"
"Of course," she smirked, flipping her blonde curls over her shoulder. "You just focus on keeping up, alright?"
"Ha. You'll eat your words."
With that, Virella said she'd better get her beauty sleep just to be sure. She bid me a goodnight and left. I stayed seated, wrapped in my cloak, watching the letter office below. The lamps flickered dimly through its windows, servants scurrying in and out like shadows.
The cold had deepened. Frost clung to the stone railing, glittering faintly under the moonlight.
But no snow yet.
A faint smile touched my lips.
Drakfjord was probably buried in snow by now.
With thoughts of my home, my eyelids grew heavy. The distant clatter of hooves on cobblestone below lulled me, and my head dipped, almost sinking into sleep—
I instantly gripped Raincatcher and pointed it toward the shadows pooling on the far side of the balcony. The vylnir was curled on my bed inside, so whatever made that sound was not it.
"It's alright," Ryn's voice whispered from the dagger.
Even with his assurance, I didn't lower the weapon. The figure climbing over the balcony railing was broad-shouldered, moving with both urgency and strain. A breeze pulled at the figure's hood, revealing blond curls.
My eyes widened just as the man swung a leg over and dropped to the floor.
"Sir Cavriel?" I whispered loudly. "What in the damnation are you doing climbing up here like a thief? This isn't one of the lower castles! There are guards, there are servants! If anyone sees you, we're both dead—"
"Shut up," he growled, staggering toward the room.
The sharpness of his tone cut through my scolding. Only then did I notice the way he moved... It wasn't with his usual stealth, but with pain. His steps faltered, one hand pressed hard to his side.
The vylnir stirred at the disturbance, stretching its foxlike form on the bed. It let out a low hiss, ears flattening as Cavriel stumbled forward.
He collapsed to his knees, then to the floor, clutching his side with a grimace.
"You're hurt," I breathed, rushing to his side.
His skin was damp and feverish as I helped him to his feet and guided him to the bed. He groaned but didn't resist, sinking onto the sheets.
"What happened?" I asked, my voice low but urgent.
He sucked in a breath, teeth gritted.
"Mission... went bad. Found where the fleet was being built. Burned it. But on the way back, we ran into the emperor's army."
My heart jumped.
"You burned the fleet?"
A bitter smile ghosted his lips.
"Believe it or not, but there's a reason Driftwoode sent me for this mission."
He tugged up his tunic with shaking hands, revealing a bandage wrapped tight around his middle. The fabric was stiff with dried blood, and fresh crimson had seeped through in patches. The smell of infection clung to it, sour and rotting.
I winced.
"Why didn't you go to a doctor?"
He let out a harsh laugh and tugged at the thorned vine coiled around his neck.
"Anyone can see I'm a Briarbound. If word gets out that I'm injured, they'll ask questions. And they'll know." His green eyes met mine. "I'm just supposed to be on message duty."
I swallowed a nervous lump.
"So, what exactly do you expect me to do?"
He leaned back on the pillows with a grimace.
"I don't know," he admitted. "But you're the only person I know that has magic. If anyone can make a miracle happen, it's you."
I snorted at that.
"What? You want me to dance on your wound?"
Carefully, I cut through the bandages with my dagger. But what waited beneath was nothing less than horrifying. The gash was deep, but more concerningly, infected beyond what I anticipated. Flesh had already begun to rot.
"If there's no hope for me," he said, "I won't mind a dance."
For a moment, I only stared at him.
"You... You don't have second chances. Why are you so eager to throw your life away?"
His eyes didn't waver for even a moment.
"I already knew my life was forfeit when I accepted this mission."
My brows furrowed.
"That's not certain. If Driftwoode wins, then—"
"These thorns aren't just for show," he interrupted me, gesturing to his neck. "The emperor trusts his Briarbound Knights with his life because if he dies, so will we."
My eyes widened and my heart raced faster. I'd always known the oath was for life, but I... I didn't expect it to be on a literal sense...
"So, whether it's now or later... Does it matter?" he sighed.
My stomach twisted in knots. It wasn't as though I was particularly attached to Cavriel, but seeing him so indifferent to his life...
I couldn't stand it.
"Stay still," I said firmly.
His brows flicked up for a moment before he obeyed, jaw clenched as I peeled away the rest of the blood-soaked bandage.
"I'm no expert, but I have a salve that works wonders. I'll only need you to close your eyes. So, I don't get distracted..."
He hesitated, then nodded and let his head fall back against the headboard, lids fluttering shut.
"I'll be saying a few prayers," I murmured. "Don't mind it."
"Pray all you want," he said.
Leaving him to be, I gathered a goblet and clean cloth from my table. My heart thumped hard against my ribs as I approached the vylnir on the other side of the bed. Vyvy watched me with unblinking eyes, its fur bristling in the dim light.
"Wι?? ?συ ?ι?? ?? ?σ?? σ? ?συ? ?α?ι? ?σ ?α?? ??ι? ?α??" I pleaded. "Lι?? ?σ? ?συ ??α??? ??..."
The vylnir's ears twitched, and it gave a low, throaty rumble.
"P??α??," I begged. "H? ι? α ??ι???. H? ?ι?? ???ρ υ? ????α? συ? ?????. W? ???? ?ι?."
The creature curled its lips back in a silent snarl, teeth glistening. For a moment, I thought it refused. But then I saw the drool begin to string from its fangs, dripping slow and steady. Carefully, I held out the goblet and caught each drop until it was enough.
"T?α?? ?συ," I breathed, bowing my head.
Turning back, I knelt before Cavriel on the bed. His face was tense, but he hadn't moved. Dipping the cloth into the goblet, I soaked it with the shimmering saliva.
"This may sting," I warned.
He only grunted.
I pressed the cloth to his wound. He hissed sharply through his teeth but held still.
At first, nothing happened, the knots in my stomach tightening.
Then, as I applied more, the wound began to knit together, slow and trembling, like cloth weaving itself.
My breath caught, heart skipping with relief as I watched the edges draw closed.
"Are you... peeling my skin?" he asked through a wince.
"Endure it," I said.
I continued applying the saliva until the gash had closed nearly completely, leaving behind only faint, pink flesh. Relief washed over me, and I sat back, setting the goblet aside.
"It's done," I said softly. "You'll still have a fever for a while, but it should pass."
When I turned, Cavriel was staring at his side in utter shock. His fingers brushed the new skin as if to test it.
"How... how did you do this?" he asked hoarsely.
I smiled faintly.
"I'm a miracle worker, remember?"
He continued to gape at me, then shook his head.
"Actually, it's best I don't know. This knowledge shouldn't fall into dangerous hands."
He stood slowly, still marveling, and then looked at me with something almost warm in his gaze. It was so unlike him, I was caught off guard, taking a small step back.
"Thank you," he said sincerely, the usual scowl lines on his face softening. He already looked much better, his skin returning to his original sun-kissed hue.
I couldn't help but smile.
"It's no problem."
For a heartbeat, neither of us said anything. Yet the silence wasn't noticeable. It was only after the vylnir let out a yawn that I realized we were staring at each other. Cavriel seemed to only realize it then as well, clearing his throat and breaking eye contact.
"Right," he said. "Before I forget."
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a folded, bloody letter, holding it out to me.
"From Drakfjord," he said. "Picked it up on my way here."
My chest tightened.
"Thank you."
I unfolded the parchment slowly and looked down at the words that awaited me.
My heart sank.
This was terrible news...
Pyree's support is crucial for what was coming. With Sylvos' fleet burned to ash, the war would not be fought at sea but on land. And Pyree's armies were unmatched.
But Skye was right.
Claude would kill the Pyreen envoy without hesitation. I had seen it myself — the way she executed traitors who tried fleeing the island. I had no doubt she would do the same here.
I pressed my lips together, forcing myself to think, then headed for my desk and grabbed a quill and parchment.
I folded the letter, sealing it with wax from my candle, and handed it to Cavriel.
"Please," I said. "Deliver this as soon as possible."
He nodded, tucking it into his cloak.
"I'll try."
He turned to the balcony but stopped, glancing back at me. The wind caught his curly hair, and in the dim light, he looked almost hesitant.
"Don't tell Ella about the oath's price," he asked. "And... I'll repay you for saving me."
I tilted my head at him with a teasing look.
"A smile would be enough."
He frowned.
"What?"
"Smile once in a while," I chuckled. "It's such a rare thing, that would be more than enough."
He stared at me for a moment, then, reluctantly, the corner of his mouth lifted. It was small and strained, but it was a smile.
I laughed and he immediately scoffed, turning away.
"Nevermind," he muttered, gripping the balustrade.
Still laughing, I watched as he slipped into the night.
I wrapped my arms around myself, staring into the dark where he had gone.
"What a tragic mortal," Ryn commented from the dagger.
My smile faded.
"If I kill Sylvos..."
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The next morning, I woke with a heaviness that clung to my bones.
My hands still smelled faintly of iron from scrubbing Cavriel's blood out of the floorboards.
I made myself a cup of tea and carried it to the balcony, wrapping a shawl tight around my shoulders.
Steam curled from the cup, warming my face as I sat, staring down at the letter office as usual.
The pathways and bridges beyond were already alive with motion — servants rushing, vendors shouting, carriages rattling past. Even inside Lavender castle, a feverish energy hummed through the halls.
I suppose it was only natural.
Tonight was the emperor's Birthday Ball.
A sharp knock broke through my thoughts. I rose with a groan, setting the cup aside, and opened the door.
The Lavender Madam stood there, arms folded, eyes sharp behind her spectacles.
"Why are you still in your sleeping gown?" she demanded. "There is plenty to do today."
I coughed lightly into my hand.
"I'm sick, Madam. I won't be attending the ball."
Her eyes widened like saucers.
"You—" She stopped herself and sighed. "Regardless, you have visitors."
Visitors?
I frowned.
"Give me a moment."
Closing the door, I quickly dressed in a simple gown and brushed the tangles from my hair with my fingers. When I stepped back out, the Madam was waiting, lips pressed into a thin line. She led me through the winding halls to the castle's drawing room.
The moment I entered, a handful of women in green dresses turned toward me. Their faces lit up, smiles warm as summer despite the cold season. They rushed forward, greeting me with curtsies and questions about my health.
I blinked at the Clover ladies, startled by their enthusiasm.
I had visited them only a few times recently, and mostly to make sure the repairs and upkeep were going well.
Never did I expect them to come see me.
But here they were — looking healthy, their cheeks flushed with color, their clothes lined with thick furs for winter.
"I'm happy to see you all looking so well," I said honestly.
"It's all thanks to you," one of them replied, her voice trembling with sincerity. "This is the first winter no one has fallen sick. The food is better than ever. We don't even feel like a bottom rank castle anymore."
A soft smile tugged at my lips.
"I'm glad to hear that."
One of the girls stepped forward, her eyes bright with determination.
"We've all been thinking for a long time about how to repay you. And we finally figured it out."
The others nodded eagerly.
"I know this isn't appropriate to say... But we sincerely hope to see you as empress one day," she continued. "We want to see you climb even higher. That's why... we wanted to help you for tonight's ball."
At her signal, two other girls stepped forward, carrying a large box. They opened it and presented it to me.
My jaw went slack at the sight.
The dress they lifted out shimmered like moonlight, the palest purple, almost white. Fine gems glittered within the sheer fabric, pulsing faintly with a life of their own. My heart lurched when I realized what they were.
"Storm-forged gems..." I whispered. "How—?"
The women beamed.
"We all contributed the gems the emperor gave us during the feast. A jeweler cut them for us into fine crystals. We wanted them to become something beautiful for you."
I stared, the words caught in my throat.
Such a gesture... it was beyond anything I had expected.
The Madam smirked knowingly.
"You'll make these ladies proud at the Ball, will you not?"
I looked at her, then at the women's eager, hopeful faces.
Ah...
Now I see why the Madam had allowed them to enter...
What a cunning woman.
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