52 Eira
Eira
Willow walked the three of them through a long hallway ending in a staircase that spiraled upward. Hugo grabbed Eira’s hand
as they walked, and Eira grabbed Evangeline’s waist with her other hand, silently supporting her.
Evangeline looked at her, a silent thank-you in her eyes.
As they ascended the staircase, Eira’s heart started beating frantically. This was the moment. She’d either get her memories
back and reckon with everything she’d lost returning to her . . . or she’d get confirmation that her memories could never
come back. There was so much she wanted to remember, and so much she almost wished she could keep behind the closed door.
Eira followed Willow through the door at the top of the stairs, into what Eira could only describe as a witch’s den. She hadn’t
seen anything like it since she’d last been in the Potions Patisserie, and a pang of sadness tore through her again. She could
never go back there now, no matter what.
A bed sat beside the tall window at the back of the room, but Eira’s eye was drawn to the potions corner. As she walked toward
it she let go of her friends, overtaken by excitement.
“You pretended to do potions to hide from the Iron Empire too?” Willow said as she began to braid her white hair in a crown around her head. Eira looked to see Hugo guiding Evangeline to a settee in the corner near a roaring fire.
Hugo kept stealing glances at Eira, something not unlike fear behind each look. He was worried about something, and it concerned
her. Her heart had warmed when he’d told her he loved her, and she . . . she was there too—but without her memories, she felt
like she didn’t truly know all of Hugo. Maybe this version of him was the version he truly was, but some part of her told
her that he was hiding something from her still.
“I did,” Eira answered Willow. She didn’t need to go into every detail about all of her capabilities right this moment, not when so much was about to change for her.
“You should have found a memory witch to put the spell on you,” Willow chided gently. “Self-inflicted memory magic almost
always goes awry.”
“We didn’t have much of a choice, from my understanding,” Eira answered.
“On the run?” Willow asked, grabbing a pin from the table and securing the end of her hair into the rest of the crown with
it.
“Evangeline and I . . . we had a few Iron Empire soldiers on our tail,” Eira said, and though she couldn’t remember the moment,
she was sure Evangeline hadn’t been lying about their journey together.
“Ah,” Willow said, moving to Eira’s hair and beginning to unbraid it. “That would do it. She got pretty hurt, it looks like.”
They stood in silence for a moment as Hugo walked over to Eira, kissing her quickly before grabbing her hands. “Are you okay?”
he asked. “All of this is up to you—you get to decide if we do this.”
“I’m going to go check on your friend, see if she needs her bandages refreshed,” Willow said, riffling through a drawer before heading to the settee on the other side of the room, sensing that Hugo and Eira needed to talk privately.
“We’re doing this,” Eira said firmly.
“Okay,” Hugo answered.
“Hugo,” she said gently. “If there’s anything you haven’t told me . . . if there’s anything I need to know . . . please.”
“Eira,” he said, placing a hand on her face. “If I told you everything I did in the years I’ve known you, we’d be here for
days. It’s easier if you get your memories back, and then I can fill in the blanks.”
Hugo wasn’t denying that he’d hidden more from her. But she could also see his point; instead of explaining it all, why not
wait until she had those memories back so the stories could be filled in from both sides?
“Okay,” Eira whispered, leaning in to kiss him.
Their lips touched and Hugo’s hand slid up to hold the back of Eira’s head as she leaned into the embrace. He was hungry for
her, opening her mouth with his tongue to kiss her deeply. It felt like saying goodbye. She supposed it was a goodbye, a farewell
to Eira Eckhart in favor of a return to the Viscountess Eira Westcotte. Or perhaps it was a hello to someone entirely new.
She pulled away from the kiss, putting her hand on Hugo’s chest and looking into his hazel eyes. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Hugo whispered, touching his nose to hers.
“For embracing Eira Eckhart for who she was.”
“She was just as amazing as the viscountess,” Hugo said.
“Will you miss her?” Eira asked, a single tear falling down her cheek.
“Eira, my love,” he said as he wiped the tear away with his thumb. “You will always be Eira, and Eira Eckhart isn’t going
anywhere. I’m excited to see the next version of you.”
He kissed her forehead as Willow walked back and touched her shoulder.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“Yes.” Eira nodded. “How does this work? I . . . don’t remember.”
“It’s a lengthy process. Your friends will need to get comfortable.” Willow motioned Eira to the bed by the window, and Eira
noticed a chair sat at the head of the bed, near the pillow.
“Removing memories is easy,” Willow said as she guided Eira to the bed. “It’s as simple as locking them behind a little bit
of the Flow inside your head, but getting them out . . . especially after so long . . . it takes time. The spell must be unlocked,
and then the memories must be returned to their rightful places slowly. With the Flow, I’ll be able to do it, but it will
take time.”
Eira perched on the edge of the bed as Willow handed her a deep purple potion.
“You will drink this,” she said. “It will put you to sleep and unlock the door, and then I will guide the memories back. You’ll
wake up when it’s done.”
Eira looked at the potion, panic settling in her gut for the briefest of moments before calm washed over her. Viscountess
Eira wanted her memories back, and she was the viscountess. It was high time she was whole again. Eira looked at Hugo, who
watched her from the middle of the room, frozen in place as she drank, the liquid cool and minty.
The final memory she had before falling asleep was of Willow’s hands guiding her to the pillow, and the sharp pain as her
subconscious realized someone else was in her head with her.