Chapter 4
Elsedora
Itook the palace stairs in a bounding stride. My spirits lifted to the ceiling and built with each step.
I could give Emmerick his family back.
No tomb-raiding rush had ever lit my hopes this way. How many dreams had I had as a younger immortal about speaking with my mama or papa again? Countless.
I’d never deny someone such a chance, even if it meant withholding the truth from my friends. I burst through the doors into the rose garden; its abundant blooms filled the air with sweetness.
Emmerick’s adoptive parents visited him often. I’d run into them a few times—kind, hardworking, and loyal folk. They lived in one of the few cottages that stood within the palace walls. His father was the palace’s longest tenured groundskeeper, and his mother the head baker.
Sybilla had shared that Emmerick’s father had refused to retire, even after his son had worked his way to the rank of Constable. Knowing that Emmerick inherited the riches of Helos had changed nothing. Leo still maintained his position and kept the gardens manicured to perfection.
I smiled, thinking about bringing them to the King’s bedchamber to speak with their son.
Rounding the path toward the east gates, I nearly slammed into Krait. He held a now very awake Lark, who grasped onto the flowers of an unruly lilac bush with a hearty giggle.
“Whoah,” he said as I steadied myself. “You’re on a mission. Where are you going?”
My cheeks heated. “Oh. Well…”
Krait’s brow furrowed.
A glow of pink, red, and deep burgundy roses adorned the walkway, and I watched a bee nestle into delicate petals.
What to tell him… what to tell him.
I picked a rose and smelled it.
“El?” Krait waved his free hand in front of me.
“Sorry,” I sputtered out. “The flowers look gorgeous.”
Fuck it all.
I hated lying to him, of all people.
“You nearly leveled us,” he said. “Where are you rushing off to?”
Why did he always have to be so damn perceptive? I finally answered, “I’m fetching Leo and Angeline. Emmerick was groaning in his sleep when I passed by on my way to your office. I felt maybe their presence would do him some good today.”
Krait’s gaze softened, and he nodded. “That’s kind of you.”
He’d accepted my half-truth.
Wanting badly to run from my dishonesty, I leaned down and placed a quick kiss atop Lark’s head and then tiptoed to peck Krait’s cheek.
“Plus, I have lords’ disputes in Helos to settle, an estate to renovate, and a muddied tunic to change before dinner. Maybe then your wife will let me hold this little one. I must hurry.”
I’d been appointed as advisor to the North Corridor. Krait and Sybilla couldn’t be in three places at once.
“I heard about the orchard,” Krait said as I skirted around him. “Else, wait.”
I pivoted and waited for him to call me out on my horrible lie.
Larkspur tugged on a lock of Krait’s dark hair at the nape of his neck. Fatherhood had softened him some. He hadn’t become full of sunshine and butterflies, but he also couldn’t look as domineering as he once had with a babe tucked in one arm, trying to yank his hair out.
“That reminds me. Sybilla and I have put together some agreements regarding our estate.” He paused and swallowed hard. “When Fen told me and Sybilla about Lamoreaux, it got me thinking…”
My posture slackened; this felt serious.
“We’ve decided that should anything ever happen to us, or when things naturally run their course—”
“Kraiiit.” I groaned, interrupting him. His mortality was still too new. We had years before he should plan his deathbed wishes.
“Just listen, El,” he snapped.
There was the grump I’d known for most of my life.
He pushed on. “Lark needs a guiding hand in early immortality—someone to be there for her when we cannot. We’d like that person to be you. Alive. I won’t have you at the bottom of a ditch, or crushed within the closing walls of some dusty tomb.”
My heart sank. I knew what he was asking—let someone else search for the relics. It had proved to be dangerous work, though I’d never give it up.
“I will do anything for your family, Krait. You know that,” I said. He seemed satisfied with my response, which made my throat burn. “But I won’t give up looking. I do that for him.”
I didn’t need to say Ryn’s name. Krait understood the loss.
Centuries ago, he’d lost his Source Match. Freya, Ryn’s sister, had fallen during the Great Wars—executed just days after her marriage to Krait, by her own father. The dreadful Phynnic King had grown wary that his children would try to usurp him.
“I would never ask you to stop. In all honesty, we need you out there. But I’m begging you, as a member of this family, no more trips alone. Fenris told me what happened today. Without him there, you could have…” The words died on his tongue, and my guilt mounted.
I sighed out, “Alright.”
Being slowed down wasn’t ideal, but I understood his concern. I’d had one too many close calls; I’d be no good to our cause dead.
“I won’t go at it alone anymore,” I agreed.
The tension in his shoulders relaxed as he nodded. “I won’t keep you from wherever it is you’re off to and not telling me about.”
I narrowed my eyes, ready to rebut his accurate assessment of my dishonesty.
Krait lifted one of Lark’s arms and waved her hand at me. “Don’t be late for dinner, Aunt Lora.”
“Lora?” I questioned, with a scrunched nose.
“Lark said it earlier when you walked away.”
My hand found my heart. “She said my name?”
“Well, she renamed you. But yes, I suspect so. You were third only to Mama and Papa. It’s mostly babbling otherwise.”
I shook my head; the air knocked from my lungs.
Lark’s big green eyes stared at me from Krait’s arms, and she reached her chubby hands out, squealing, “Anny Lorrra.”
“Oh, you are so screwed now,” I said. “Sybilla will need to watch that mouth of hers.”
He made an amused hmph sound of agreement.
Smirking, I turned to step away. Then, I spun on my heel. “Wait. You want me to be her mentor? Are you certain?”
Krait shrugged. “I see no one better suited for the role.”
I quirked up a brow, trying very hard not to appear too affected by the ease of his trust in me. “I always knew you were smarter than you looked.”
He chuckled. “Seriously, don’t be late. It pisses Syb off.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I lied over my shoulder, wiping at my eyes as I ambled down the cobblestone path toward the cottage.