27 Eira
Eira
The next morning felt uncomfortable to Eira. The routine she and Hugo had been building over the past week had been completely
interrupted by the presence of what felt like a hostile wraith in the form of an exceptionally beautiful woman.
Princess Evangeline wasn’t at all what Eira had expected. Every conversation the princess had with Hugo was stilted and sharp,
but the moment Eira spoke to her in any way, she would soften and act like she was in a fine mood. Eira couldn’t quite figure
out if it was because Evangeline hated Hugo or felt so bad for Eira’s ruined memory spell that she was being overly nice.
Finally, as they had nearly finished packing up the campsite, Eira snapped.
“Evangeline,” she said a little bit too loudly.
Evangeline whipped her head in Eira’s direction, Hugo followed suit as he strapped bags to Arthur.
“Is this just how you are? Mean and argumentative?”
Evangeline laughed. “When I’m around the brute? Yes,” she said, jabbing her thumb toward Hugo.
“Admittedly,” Hugo said, “you never really talked to me before the Iron Empire took over.”
“That’s actually a fair point, Commander,” Evangeline sniped back, and Eira watched Hugo cringe at the title. He truly seemed to hate it, and Eira hoped that was
a sign that she wasn’t being lied to. Eira hadn’t forgiven him for hiding that he was one of the Iron Empire’s chosen few,
but there had to be some truth to the fact that he’d defected; why else would the knights keep coming for them? She just wondered
why the Iron Retinue was so insistent on killing him. What did he have that they needed . . . or needed to hide? There was
more to his story than he was keeping from her, and Eira had every intention of figuring out what it was, and soon.
“I wasn’t ‘nice’ to him before because I found his presence overbearing and, quite frankly, I didn’t trust his qualifications
for guarding your family. Besides, after everything he’s done, I think we can agree that I was right to be skeptical of him.”
“His qualifications?” Eira asked.
“Legitimately not relevant now that he betrayed my family,” Evangeline said, shoving a bag into Hugo’s waiting arms. “Once
you get your memory back, you’ll remember how much you love my attitude,” Evangeline continued, a smile on her full lips.
“Wait,” Eira said, turning to Hugo. “How are we going to travel? Arthur can’t hold three people.”
“I—” Hugo started.
“I’ll just turn back into the rabbit,” Evangeline interrupted.
“You don’t need to do that,” Eira said, shaking her head fiercely.
“Obviously I do,” Evangeline answered. “It’s not like I’m not used to it, Eira. It’s been three years.” Silence hung in the
air as they all sat in discomfort, the idea of Evangeline being trapped in rabbit form making each of them uncomfortable.
“Wait, did you ever turn into yourself while we were in Cilirien?” Eira asked, horrified at the thought of Evangeline being stuck as a rabbit every day for three long years.
“I did,” she answered as she folded a blanket. “When you came home from the Honeyed Horn, I’d sometimes sneak out and spend
time there as Evie.”
“And no one recognized you?” Hugo chimed in, curious.
“The Iron Empire had started to spread the news that the entire royal family had been executed. They had no reason to think
I was anything but a woman that looked a little bit like the princess had.” Evangeline shrugged.
“That still sounds hard,” Eira said, watching Evangeline.
“It was,” she said, gently handing the blanket to Eira. “But it means I’m used to it, so let’s just get this over with.”
Eira found herself getting lightheaded as she held her breath, waiting for the princess to turn back into a rabbit. Shape-shifting
magic was so unbelievably rare that Eira was shocked she’d ever had the capability to do it. She certainly knew she wouldn’t
be able to reverse it, which got her thinking about the memory magic that she’d apparently cast on herself. Every time Eira
learned something about her past, the more confused she got. It was like she was collecting magical capabilities that didn’t
ever mix. The Flow spoke to witches; that’s how each witch had their magical capabilities—it was as if they could speak that specific
language to the Flow and get a response, whether that was summoning elements or conjuring hands. But now Eira was grappling
with the idea that she could speak so many more languages than she had ever known was even possible.
Eira snapped out of her thoughts as she heard the crack of what sounded like bone. It was. Evangeline’s transformation took
a few seconds that felt like they dragged on for an eternity as Eira and Hugo watched with horror. Evangeline’s bones cracked
and snapped as they shrunk, her hair transforming into the rabbit’s fur, half of it changing into the beige that spotted Pennyroyal’s
coat.
“That’s horrifying,” Eira whispered once the rabbit had stopped transforming.
Pennyroyal—no, Evangeline—stomped her back legs in what Eira assumed was a yes. It finally hit her that all those times she’d
thought the rabbit was answering her or giving her attitude, it had been Evangeline answering her.
“I hated that,” Hugo said beside her, a strand of his dark brown hair askew, hanging over his brow.
That made two of them.
Eira stepped toward where the rabbit-form of Evangeline sat on the ground to pick her up, but the toe of her boot got caught
in a wayward root. Eira felt herself stumble and screamed, a whoosh of cold air around her head as she braced for impact on
the ground. Perhaps this would be an actual fall that made her lose more of her memory; that would be just her luck.
Instead, a firm arm grabbed her waist. Eira’s eyes opened to see Hugo holding her, catching her at the last second. One arm
was snaked around her waist, and the other was on the ground as he knelt, holding her easily and saving her from the fall.
Eira could feel his hot breath on her skin just inches from hers. It was as if the horror of what she’d just seen left her
mind, just the desire to touch Hugo overwhelming her senses.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Hugo didn’t speak yet, his eyes flicking to Eira’s lips as he licked his ever so slightly. If Eira had blinked, she would
have missed it.
“Eira . . .” he said only her name.
She moved closer to him as she started to close the gap. Would this be too bold of her?
Eira heard the rabbit titter beside them and stomp her paws .
. . or rather, her feet? She blinked, the world around them coming back to her as she tried to place her hands on the ground beneath her.
Instead of letting her, Hugo picked Eira up in one swift movement and slowly lowered her to her feet, their bodies pressed against each other as she was eased back onto the ground.
Eira stepped out of Hugo’s arms as both of them awkwardly looked away from each other, the moment lost but certainly not forgotten.
Eira scooped up Pennyroyal—no, Evangeline—and silently cursed her for interrupting them.
The ride through the countryside, in the opposite direction they’d come from, was more awkward than any of Hugo and Eira’s
travels had been. In the past few days they’d taken time to actually talk, and while it had mostly been Eira talking about
the last three years, it had been nice to just talk.
Now, knowing that Evangeline had been listening to everything they said and was unable to contribute to the conversation,
Eira could sense the awkwardness through Hugo’s firm back as she gripped him.
Around sundown they finally arrived at a tavern on the side of the road, one of the inns that cropped up exclusively for travelers
who were on long journeys. Eira hopped off Arthur, noticing her ankle had completely healed since the fight a handful of days
prior . . . much quicker than it should have. She decided not to dwell on why that could be. While Hugo led the horse to the
stables in the back, she instinctively went to pet Pennyroyal—no, Evangeline—on the head, sticking her hand in her bag before realizing that that had probably been weird for Evangeline the whole time.
“If me petting you made you at all uncomfortable in the last three years I am so, so sorry,” Eira said in a whisper toward
the opening of her bag, mortified.
“Let’s go,” Hugo said as he rounded the corner and headed into the tavern, his hand brushing Eira’s as he walked past her.
She watched him flex his hand slowly as he opened the door, another small and silent physical response to her.
Five minutes and two rooms later, Eira stood in her first room alone since she’d fled Cilirien. Until a few moments later when she heard the familiar, but no less horrific, crackle of bone, and Evangeline now stood in the room with her.
“You know, it never gets more enjoyable to do that,” she said before brushing off her skirts and sitting on the bed nonchalantly.
The two sat in an uncomfortable silence that stretched on and on.
“This feels weird,” Eira finally said.
“Yes.” Evangeline turned to her.
The silence crept over them again.
“Wh—”
“Ho—” They both tried to speak at the same moment, locking eyes with each other before breaking into twin fits of laughter.
“This is insane,” Eira gasped through her laughter.
“You’re telling me,” Evangeline chuckled. “I’ve been a rabbit moonlighting as a person for three years.”
Their laughter calmed, the two of them watching each other—Eira searching for something familiar, and Evangeline searching
for something in her own right. Eira could imagine that at one point, before her memory had vanished, she might have been
able to pick up what Evangeline had been thinking. But now? It was just a face she was making.
“I didn’t know what to do,” Evangeline said, breaking the silence. “When your memory didn’t come back.”
“You said it was only supposed to last half a year?”
“That’s what you told me,” Evangeline said. “I said I didn’t want you to cast it, that I thought there were other ways we
could get around a truth-sense witch. You told me that there wasn’t, that it was the only way to make sure we weren’t caught . . .