14. Disruption #2
How could I explain to him what was really happening?
It was bad enough that Lenn knew my greatest secret.
I didn’t know how Lukas would react to learning that I shared my mind and body with a powerful, ancient spirit.
My cheeks suddenly burned as an unwelcome thought entered my mind.
Did she truly see and feel everything I did?
Please, Asvoria, the Shadow scoffed, I am quite happy to excuse myself when you engage in such activities. I’m not constantly connected to your mind, you know.
Clearly, I did not know, I replied, thoroughly embarrassed. But I was glad I at least had a small bit of privacy when it came to intimate acts.
Lukas smiled, completely unaware of that mortifying exchange.
“I hope the tea helps then,” he said, turning back to the bowl.
Reaching inside, he drew out a small white cloth and wrung it out, steam snaking off it in wispy tendrils.
“Put this on the back of your neck. Mother gets terrible headaches sometimes, and this works wonders for her.”
I took it gladly, swinging it over my shoulder and settling it on the nape of my neck. The heat from the cloth spread down over my shoulders and back, a relaxing wave of warmth. I released a heavy sigh without really meaning to.
He reached for my hand, raising it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss against each finger. “And I’m here to listen, if you want to talk about your trip to the Temple.”
My face fell as a chill suddenly crept over me. “It’s hard to explain… There’s so much to tell.”
He shifted his weight onto his other hip and settled into the large bed beside me, his smile unfaltering.
With his head propped up on his hand, he said, “We have all day, Vor. And I think it would help you to get it off your chest. Tell me what’s wrong?
” His voice was relaxed, free of coercion. So why was my chest suddenly tight?
“I…”
The words would not come, no matter how hard I willed them. It was only a dream. Why couldn’t I spit the damn words out?
Almond-brown eyes heavy with worry roved over my face. “Did something happen?” he asked. “Is it that dragon?”
I shook my head. “No, nothing like that.” I squeezed his hand for extra reassurance.
“There’s just…” I hesitated again, my heart warning me not to tell him about the dream.
I couldn’t explain why, but the alarm bells ringing in my head were impossible to ignore.
“I found out the identity of the assassin, Lukas.”
His eyes widened in shock. “What?”
“We found out what he is, I should say,” I amended quickly. “It doesn’t necessarily help us in finding him though.”
“What do you mean?” Lukas pressed closer to me, the warmth rolling off him smothering me like a quilt. He was unsettled—his control on his thread was slipping.
“The High Priestess found another feather near Fjollum. She thinks he’s a celestial being—a huathe —and that his presence in the human realm is connected to the increase in myrkva attacks.
I mean to journey north to find out more.
” The words rushed out of me, glossing over the finer details and completely withholding the strange writings about the darkthread.
Whatever reasons my mother had for telling Lenn our family secrets, I didn’t know if it was wise to share everything with Lukas yet.
“Is that safe?” he asked, reaching up and stroking my snowy hair away from my face. “This is some kind of godly being, Vor. If he came after your mother, he’ll come after you too, won’t he?”
“It’s a chance I have to take,” I said, my resolve solidifying. “I won’t brick myself up in my castle to wait for an assassin to find me while the world crumbles outside these walls.”
He pressed his mouth into a hard line, brows drawing low over his eyes. “That isn’t what I was suggesting, and I’m sorry if it came across that way. I only want you to be careful. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
Some of the hardness in my heart flaked away. “You’re not going to lose me, Lukas. I promise I’ll be careful. And the Talons will be with me.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” He chuckled lightly, but there was an edge to the question.
“I spoke with Talon Arlbright,” I said. “I trust that he means me no harm.” As the words spilled from my heart, I recognized the truth in them. Corbyn wasn’t going to hurt me—he wanted this assassin dead as much as I did.
Lukas pulled away to look me in the eye. “And the other one?”
My pulse quickened, remembering the sight of Trygg in three-quarter Shift. It was as terrifying as it was awe-inspiring. Not to mention the enormity of his beast form, or the complexity of his manner. And the way I kept getting distracted by his… charm.
Everything about him was a mystery, and I couldn’t shake my suspicions about his true purpose for being here. But there was something intriguing about him, all the same.
How could I voice any of that and still put Lukas’s mind at ease?
I gave him the most reassuring smile I could muster. “I’m the heir of Bridja Falk, Lukas. I’m not afraid of one little dragon.”
Little… Not quite, the Shadow muttered.
He returned my smile, his eyes softening. “That’s what worries me, my love,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But I trust you, even if I don’t trust them.”
I wasn’t entirely sure that was good enough, but I said nothing.
Lukas rolled off the bed and stood, straightening his linen shirt. “I’ll leave you to rest.” He gathered his jerkin from where he’d left it on a bed post. “Call for me if you need anything.”
I nodded and took a sip of tea. He left without another word, an icy draft following his wake. The small fire in the hearth guttered and the thud of the door echoed hollowly in the huge room. The Shadow remained quiet, deepening the silence.
The belief I shouldn’t tell Lukas about my nightmare wouldn’t go away. The intensity of it made a pinprick against my heart, opening a hole that ached in my chest. Where the feeling had come from, I didn’t know. What it meant, I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.
It wasn’t my intention to fall asleep, but exhaustion dragged me down quicker than I thought possible. When I awoke, the slanting light coming through the curtains angled at the ceiling instead of the floor. I sat up, disoriented for only a moment before I remembered.
These were my rooms now, not the chambers down the hall I’d resided in since I was a child. The queen’s rooms no longer belonged to my mother, but to me.
The plush, black carpet was a new addition, and her dressing table had been replaced with mine.
But everything else was the same. It was an eerie sight, to say the least. I half expected her to walk out of the bathing room, combing her lengthy hair after luxuriating in an even lengthier bath.
She loved to relax that way, and I loved helping her pick out her gown afterward.
But I would never sit with her in these rooms again, talking into the early morning hours and laughing ‘til we cried. The cold knife of grief sliced through my stomach.
Petra was always so kind, the Shadow said, making me jump. I wasn’t yet used to her popping into my internal thoughts unexpectedly. You Erling queens have a harsh sort of beauty, but Petra was… softer, in a way.
A sad smile crept onto my face. I used to think of her as a white rose—the kind that bloom in the gardens in late winter. Delicate, not cold. With the promise of spring on their petals.
I could still hear her laugh, clear as a bell; still see the way her eyes crinkled at the edges when she smiled. Could almost feel her fingers in my hair as she braided it. But more than any of that, I keenly felt her absence, like an open sore in a place that wouldn’t completely heal.
Does it ever get easier? I asked, hot tears springing to my eyes.
A feeling of comfort pressed against my sadness. I will not lie to you, Asvoria. It never gets better. The pain of losing someone you love will always be there… But it does get easier to bear, with time.
I wiped an errant tear away, sniffling. You’ve lost every one of them . How do you do it?
Do what?
My ragged breath fought past the urge to release a sob. Carry on, I finally said, misery weighing the words down like an anchor.
She was quiet for a long time. I pulled the blanket closer to my chest, shivering as a draft swept through the room.
And just when I thought she might not answer, she said, I do not know where I came from.
I have no earlier awareness than Bridja, and those memories began to fade long ago.
She paused, quivering. As long as the Falks continue to have daughters, I will continue to live.
Sixty-seven queens I have now served and co-existed with.
This is all I know—my only purpose in this life.
I consider myself very lucky to have been bonded to your family, Vor. If I can be of use, I can carry on.
Despite the tears, I smiled. Shadow…
What?
I raised a hand to my mouth, stifling a chuckle. You used my nickname, Shadow. You’re always so formal, I didn’t think you had it in you.
Tch, she scoffed, only the mildest bit of dismissal coloring her tone. You are so much like your great-grandmother. Always ruining a serious moment.
Really? I laughed, unable to help myself any longer. I never knew her. The Erling queens seem prone to premature deaths.
That is true, the Shadow replied, sad again. Bad luck follows the Shadewardens like Bloodrot.
There’s not much hope for me then, is there?
She bristled slightly. I don’t know, Asvoria. It’s hard to say, especially with these strange slips in control you keep experiencing. Things are… different somehow. I feel unbalanced.
The High Priestess said there is an imbalance between the human world and the celestial realm, I reminded her. Perhaps these ‘shifts’ can be attributed to that?
Perhaps, was all she said in response.