Chapter 22
Dig deep, Ember. That's all I can ask.
— ALARIC SARE’S PAPERS FOR EMBERLINE ARKOVA
Imagining tongues and teeth and Hart’s weight hovering over me was easier than I cared to admit.
We took turns taking lust from each other to help heal those injured by the mudslide.
It didn’t seem to qualify as lust for our shared adamas pendant, though.
By the time we waited for another trader to sneak us into the city, two days after the downpour and mudslide, I’d used memories of Hart to inspire lust a dozen times.
I was frustrated and unsatisfied, with no orange flash of light in sight.
He has to know.
Of course, I understood that the key to the trials was to share the emotion with each other.
It was the part I couldn’t bring myself to do.
I couldn’t bring myself to explain my every lustful thought about the man while thinking them.
This curtain existed between us; I could always pretend it wasn’t him I thought of.
Avoidance was no longer an option with the weight of the adamas around my neck.
“Fucking Chaos,” I whispered as we crawled into the trader’s hidden compartment.
It was unfortunately similar to the first merchant’s cart we’d used to smuggle ourselves into the city.
It was almost impressive how many different traders Hart seemed to have relationships with.
He knew where to wait and what their schedule would be.
This had been our first opportunity to return to Kavios.
The two days had passed quickly on the mountain with the Storm. Alysa and Reid had their settlement near re-established. A few more trips up and down the mountain had brought the remaining supplies and tents. Things felt almost settled.
Time spent with my mother only strengthened my determination to move quickly.
This high in the Pinnacle Mountains, youngleaf wasn’t as prevalent.
The herb’s supply, while still growing, was harder to access after the mudslide.
It angered me to think that much less would make its way into Kavios until the Storm could re-establish a pattern to retrieve it.
Whatever peace Hart and I found by the fire, I wasn’t sure what to do with it in the daylight.
For the immediate problems before us—namely envy, joy, and lust—I knew where we had to go.
Forest’s Edge was the one public place I’d let my lust for Hart show.
Somehow, that seemed safer than pulling him into a tent and speaking things that shouldn’t be voiced.
The alcoves for taking in Forest’s Edge were the safest way to do what needed to be done.
This new trader had much more space in his hidden storage. Hart and I could lie on our backs, side by side, in the compartment. It was a short time before we were past the guards at the Eastern Gate and unloaded as cargo at Forest’s Edge.
“I don’t remember ordering this,” Ava scoffed as we emerged.
Hart stood and straightened his clothes. “You should be so lucky.”
Something sticky flared in my chest at the teasing tone. That easy rapport was something Hart and I hadn’t yet found again. So much of the time, it felt like we walked on eggshells around each other, and I didn’t know how to change that.
Ava crossed her arms over her chest and nodded to me as I, too, exited the wagon. “We got worried when you didn’t return.”
I felt Hart’s gaze on me, and I turned to meet it. His brow furrowed, and his cheeks hollowed like he’d sucked a lemon. His attention was still locked on me when he responded to Ava. “We took a detour.”
She nodded. “Someone saw the guards chase you toward the castle. How did you get out?”
“I have my ways.”
She rolled her eyes at him.
The uncomfortable feeling in my chest eased. Ava’s question meant she was unaware of his mother’s altar, of the secret pathway between the castle grounds and the Oldwood.
“What do you need this time?” Ava asked.
Hart glanced over his shoulder at me. “We have a few more tasks to attempt.”
We’d discussed returning to the city to finish the remaining trials, but not the exact shape of each one.
Hart still wanted to preserve lust, since it granted healing magic.
We’d failed to preserve fear and our nightmare magic, but there was little to be done about that.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted regarding lust. His words at the campfire seemed to indicate I’d be able to stoke lust for him the same way he did for me. Maybe I wanted to prove it.
Either way, it was mid-afternoon, and I didn’t want to attempt to stoke lust in the tavern if it was empty. It would be no different than a private room. The more crowded, the better we’d blend in.
“Do you have anywhere in mind for joy?” I asked him. “Or envy?”
He searched my features in a way that I was sure saw too much.
“Maybe we could go to my father’s shop?”
Hart took a step closer to finish our conversation without Ava and the trader hearing. “For which emotion?”
I shrugged. “Envy, I guess. It never sat right with me that I did all the work, and my father’s name on the door meant that he got all the credit.”
“Ava,” Hart called over his shoulder. “Have there been eyes on the Arkova jewelry shop?”
She looked up from the list she reviewed with the merchant. “It’s less frequently watched than Alaric’s, but there have been patrols.”
Hart’s brow raised in challenge when his gaze returned to mine. “At least we know how to get out again if we have to run.”
I bit my lip to stop a smile. “You want to go now?”
He nodded. “In Woodside, there’s more activity to hide us during the day.”
That had always been true. The rest of the city quieted when the sun set, and all activity then happened here on Cross Street in Lower Hill.
We were still wanted. There was still risk to this plan, but I found that part didn’t worry me anywhere near as much in Woodside.
Or maybe it was because Hart would be with me.
“We’ll be back,” Hart called to Ava. He held my gaze when his hand closed around mine.
I let it. My hand warmed in my glove. I wasn’t sure whether it was the heat of midday or the heat of our connection, but my palm dampened with sweat.
Still, there was something reassuring about the spark between us.
Walking the streets of Kavios with Hart was so much easier than anything I’d previously experienced.
I used to spend so much of my time trying to be small—to not take up space, to not draw notice, especially in Lower Hill.
None of that was relevant with Hart’s broad frame between me and any passersby.
He didn’t drop my hand, though he glanced at me multiple times as if he checked my comfort.
When I’d been jeweler and he’d been my bodyguard, it never occurred to me to question whether he was Blessed.
I never saw his adamas, but something in the way he expected the world to move around him made it a foregone conclusion.
Now, I knew that confidence came not from a Blessing but from a summons.
His apparent pedigree, not of the Blessed but of the royal line.
I shook my head. That part would never get easier to swallow.
We might as well use the time to plan. He said we needed to decide together what to do once we made it through these trials.
If I couldn’t bring myself to discuss the remaining emotions, we needed to at least talk about next steps and whether he’d be part of them.
As I opened my mouth to broach the subject, a green glow pulled my focus.
A guard across the street … spoke with the shop owner. The green adamas indicated that the magic of persuasion was used to achieve the guard’s desired outcomes. Gooseflesh erupted on my skin. The shop owner handed over a bag of coins to the Blessed in uniform.
“Are they…” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence.
Hart’s hand gripped mine tighter and urged me forward. He spoke under his breath. “Coercing business owners to pay some kind of fee?” He nodded. “Looks like it.”
All businesses and citizens paid taxes, but that was an annual occurrence. Citizens took their contributions to a specific office of the king. This act had a decidedly less official feeling.
“They can’t…”
Hart urged me forward. “Unfortunately, right now, they can. The only way to change it is to finish these trials—to finalize our plans. Come on, Chaos. We can’t do anything for them on the street.”
I knew he was right. We’d only draw attention to ourselves and end up fleeing again.
It would simply be another setback to our goal.
I straightened my spine, walking with a confidence I’d never really had in the streets of Kavios.
We would take care of this, but first, I needed to determine if I envied my father.
With how poorly our attempt to enter Alaric’s workshop had gone, I was on edge as we let ourselves into my father’s.
Although, considering the shop Father’s truly was laughable.
After Mother’s accident, Father had all but stopped working.
I was eight when I began to shape quartz on my own and talk to customers like I knew what I was doing.
It was only Alaric’s tutelage that had seen me through.
Our shop had a back entrance, making it easier to enter unseen. I took a deep breath and searched the familiar space. Over time, it had come to look like Alaric’s. Mostly because he’d taught me everything I needed to know, and I modeled my work after his teachings.
Hart already knew a bit about my relationship with my father.
He’d observed some of the complications when guarding me.
This shouldn’t be hard to explain. Still, I tripped over the words.
“It was maddening when people would pick up their orders and tell me to pass on their compliments to my father. Like I could only be the shop girl, not the jeweler.”
Hart stood by the door and watched me pace the room.
I stepped into place behind the counter.
Maybe being in the position where it happened so many times would help me feel …
something. “His talent wasn’t even that great.
Father was fine at his job, but he never cared about the shape of the stones like Alaric and I did.
He never cared about finding the story the gem wanted to tell.
My skills increased dramatically when I started apprenticing with Alaric. ”
Hart nodded. “He was talented. I always assumed it came from his ability to sense the adamas. It makes working with quartz even easier.”
“I’m not sure if my father even tried to learn Alaric’s methods or if he was unable to. After Mother’s accident, he stopped caring completely.”
Hart waited, and I realized that this wasn’t quite the story of envy that I’d hoped it was. Resentment, maybe? A little anger, definitely. I didn’t know why I thought this would work. I shook my head, and Hart stepped toward the counter.
“Chaos?”
I shook my head faster.
“Talk to me.”
“This isn’t going to work. I felt a lot of things from my father’s actions.
I was sad that I didn’t seem to be enough to keep him tethered to this world.
I wondered why he wanted to spend all his time with Mother, who didn’t notice him there.
She was barely there herself.” I sucked in a breath.
“It left me to fend for myself in this goddess-forsaken city.”
Hart continued his slow steps toward the counter, and he carefully reached for my hand. “You’re still allowed to feel anger, sadness, resentment, any of those things.”
“They’re not the emotions we need.”
He huffed a low chuckle. “I’m not sure that’s how emotions work.”
He stroked his thumb across the knuckle of my hand. I wanted to pull it away. I wanted to jump over the counter and put no distance between us. I wanted so many things, yet I found myself unable to act on any of them.
What a mess. Even when I tried, I still failed.
“We should go back to Forest’s Edge. It’ll be late enough when we return that the tavern will be fuller.
” He raised a brow at me, and I realized I hadn’t verbalized that part of my plan.
I swallowed, not meeting his eyes that would see too much.
“I have full confidence in your ability to stoke lust for me, but I’d prefer it be in a public place—like the alcoves. ”
I dared a glance at him. He looked thoughtful. His thumb had stopped its steady movement across my knuckle and retreated to his side of the counter.
The silence was maddening. “It just makes sense. I know you wanted to wait, to keep the healing magic, but we need to make progress with these trials. I know this will work.”
Hart arched a brow at me. “The alcoves?”
I’d never heard two words infused with more disappointment. “Stoking lust is literally what they’re for. And if we’re on display, it won’t seem real.”
His gaze snapped to mine, and the spicy warmth of his anger danced across my tongue. There and gone as fast as I could catalog it. I pressed my lips together so that no more words could escape. I’d said far more than I intended.
With a deep breath, he tapped his fingers against the wood. “We might as well try.”
And somehow, that response made everything worse.
Try didn’t sound promising. Was he not sure I could stir lust in him?
That wasn’t how he made it sound only days ago.
The questions were too embarrassing to voice, and I had a feeling that if this conversation kept going, I wouldn’t like what else he had to say.
I’d learn the answer soon enough, I guessed.