Chapter 29
Elsedora
Much to my discomfort, I’d told Sybilla about our revelation.
“You truly think this can wake him?” Sybilla seared me with skepticism.
“The story lines up. I believe it is worth trying.”
I wouldn’t let my heart get set on this working.
Even so, my skin prickled, and my tongue felt too big. To have him back... to have him awake. I shook the thought away.
No hoping.
We stood in her and Krait’s bedchamber in Umber House. I’d Egressed to the Sahlms after speaking to Lark and Dritan. Krait was off with Hurley, settling some matters with the reconstruction efforts in Sahlmkar; with more rain, the region had become more inhabitable.
“Then, we must try,” she said and ran her hand over the golden stone that lay on top of the storybook still. “Where did you find this?”
I swallowed hard. “I went back to the tomb.”
She tsk-tsked. “I know you are lying. Your guilt rolls off you like a downpour.”
I raised my mental wards. While unable to place a finger on why, I felt compelled to protect the boy. I shrugged. “If a secret harms no one, does it really need to be spoken?”
She quirked a brow. “I suppose not, but we both know that secrets are rarely harmless to everyone involved.” She lifted the stone and ran her thumb over it. “For him, I hope this works.”
“Not for you, too?” I asked, and my friend smiled weakly.
“I would love to see him awake. But I fear I’ve changed so much that we may no longer hold any common ground,” she admitted. “My life is different from twenty years ago. He might not recognize this version of me.”
“Well, that is just a pile of horseshit. Shared memories are enough to rekindle any friendship, no matter your time apart. Plus you haven’t changed at all.”
She scoffed, and I squeezed her shoulder.
“Shall we go try to wake our King?”
Her lips turned up at the sides. “Fuck it—what do we have to lose?”
“Want me to go find Krait?”
At that, Sybilla laughed. “Tell my ill-tempered husband I plan to kiss a former flame for the sake of a hunch? Have at it.”
I squinted and scrunched up my nose. “Maybe some secrets are worth keeping to not harm anyone’s ego.”
“If it works, we’ll tell him. If not, then there’s little reason to make him grind his teeth to dust over it,” she said as she started for the door.
“If it would ease your guilt, I can kiss Krait too, to even things out.”
I’d earned myself a mock look of disgust and disbelief. “You really need to cut that out,” she chided.
“Fair enough.” I chuckled as we left the bedchamber and made our way to the Egress.
The lightness in my step betrayed me.
I’d failed to quell the hope that would ruin me if we were wrong.
Propped up on a pile of white pillows and snugly tucked beneath a burgundy quilt, Em didn’t stir at our presence. His bedchamber smelled of cedar and rosemary—it had become a comforting aroma to me. His scent.
His face was relaxed in serenity; without Caym’s influence, he lacked the wrinkle in his brow where a curl of black hair spilled. The steady rise and fall of his broad chest beckoned me closer to him.
Sybilla stepped to the opposite side of the bed as we both avoided being the first to speak.
Sighing, I cursed myself for not visiting more often. My heart beat faster, and my cheeks heated at the prospect of him lifting onto those perfectly sculpted forearms before rising. Would his gaze find mine or hers first?
I could count on two hands how many times I’d walked into this room in the last five years. Usually, it took Lark convincing me to come sit with her as she read, like we used to when she was a girl.
Sybilla finally cut the silence. “A kiss to this old thing and to his lips. That is all?”
I knotted my fingers together in front of me and nodded. The book lay open beside Emmerick’s hip. Sybilla sat next to him, gazing down at the stone.
She scrunched her nose. “It feels so intrusive.”
“Should it wake him, he will forgive you. Plus, it isn’t like you haven’t kissed him plenty.”
I ignored the pinch of jealousy tightening in my chest; this was no time for such things. I’d never been one to get possessive before. My brow furrowed.
Sybilla lifted the stone to her mouth and kissed just above the sun emblem. Then she hesitated.
“Anytime now,” I teased.
She offered me a mock glare before leaning over and placing a polite peck on Emmerick’s lips. My stomach lurched. I nearly reached out to pull her away. Where had that unfamiliar sentiment come from?
Scolding myself for the girlish envy, I sat on the other side of the bed, watching for signs of waking—a flutter of lashes, a change in breathing… anything.
“Wake up,” I whispered. Sybilla reached across him to take my hand.
He looked as blissfully unaware of our presence as when we’d entered the room.
I leaned closer, imagining his eyes opening.
They didn’t.
My heart shattered just as it had that night when Lark accidentally cut off my communication with him.
“El...”
I realized I had been holding my breath only when Sybilla spoke.
“I wanted badly for it to work, too.” She offered me the stone. When it landed in my palm, the weight of its implications made me slouch. He would stay cursed. I’d lost him too.
Letting out a defeated sigh, I shook my head. “Can I have a moment? Alone.”
I didn’t want her to see me break. My lungs burned for relief; my optimism had crashed so soon after being built.
She patted my hand before rising. “Of course. I need to return to the Sahlms before Krait gets nervous. You’ll be alright?”
“I always am,” I replied dully.
She narrowed her gaze at me from the door.
Before exiting, she turned and said, “I may have been his ‘truest of heart’ at one point... it doesn’t mean that could not have changed. Stop blaming yourself. I can feel it. You’ve failed no one, El.”
Her words crushed me. Maybe it had been Firose—his Source Match. If his heart longed for hers, then we held no chance of waking him. When the door’s hinges creaked closed, I stared down at the useless stone in my palm.
“Please. Come back to me, puppy,” I whispered.
Unable to sit there and witness his stillness any longer, I rose and made to leave.
“You.” My meddling niece’s assumption stirred a thought.
I glanced over my shoulder. Emmerick inhaled a deep breath but stayed otherwise motionless.
It wouldn’t work… Could it work?
Before I could overthink it, I crossed the room, raised the smooth stone to my lips, and kissed it. Placing one palm on the pillow beside Emmerick’s head, I leaned over him. A tear dropped onto the chest of his freshly pressed blue tunic.
My arm shook as I lowered myself to kiss him. His breath tickled my nose, and though the warmth of his lips against mine was welcoming, I didn’t linger there. Straightening, I watched him, waiting.
Once again, he did not stir.
Not even a flinch.
Heaving out a frustrated groan for my foolish dreams, I let my head fall to his shoulder.
“I knew it wasn’t me, but it was worth trying,” I rasped out.
No good would come of staying and weeping.
“Goodbye, puppy,” I whispered.
From the doorway, I blew another kiss, this time letting the wind carry it to his temple.