Chapter 33
Elsedora
It was almost noon, and gray clouds threatened more snow. The weather had further put a damper on my will to leave the estate. That, and the headache left in the wake of overconsuming port by the fire the night prior. Worth it for the distraction.
Curled up in a thick purple robe over my wool nightdress, I tucked my knees beneath me on the sofa. With the parlor curtains drawn shut, I sipped hot tea, wincing as it scorched my lips.
Instead of sleep, woe hugged me in a tight embrace and whispered, You must move past your hope of him waking. You will lose everyone dear to you.
The dark thought crept into my head, sticking like hot tar.
I wished to see no one. I’d never been a person who longed for solitude, and I found this side of myself unrecognizable.
A knock caused me to jump; the tea sloshed and spilled onto my hand.
“Ouch! Damn it,” I muttered.
I wasn’t expecting anyone today.
I’d told Cassidee I needed the day off from training. Dritan would come to tend to the grounds tomorrow. Lark should have been in Sahlmsara.
Had I forgotten other plans that I’d made? Typical.
With a heaved sigh, I unlocked the door and swung it open. Lark stood at the threshold with a toothy grin—it reminded me of when she was a child. A pang of missing that stage when she was just a fiery little girl hit me. She’d grown too fast. It all had passed too fast.
She wasted no time before she said, “There’s someone here to see you in the orchard. Down by the stable.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Hurry up. Get on your boots and go,” she clipped out, but her smile remained—that demanding tone had originated with Sybilla.
I rolled my eyes, droning, “Larrrk.” Surprises no longer excited me. “Tell me who it is and I’ll hurry, kid.”
“I would. But what fun would that be?” She invited herself in and threw her coat on a hook. “The snow is coming down hard out there, and you wouldn’t want to leave your visitor waiting in the cold, would you?”
My niece winked at me, and I scoffed.
If this was Cass’ attempt to get me out to train, I’d skewer both of them.
I wore thick wool socks already, so I stepped into my boots at the door. The estate floated my purple coat to me and opened it so that I could lift my arms through. I’d need it, judging by the chill that swept in from the still-open door.
“I don’t live in a barn, you know,” I teased as Lark made her way further inside.
“Enjoy,” Lark called from the sitting room, where she’d undoubtedly made herself at home by the fire with a book. Her teasing, cryptic behavior only made me more curious about what she’d schemed up to distract me.
Trudging out into the snow, I immediately wished I had put on thicker socks and breeches. This wouldn’t take long.
On the trip toward the stable, birds chirped and fluttered overhead, frantic to seek shelter in the everplum trees from the storm. Guilt sank in my gut, as I’d been too busy moping to come out and spread seed for them today. I’d double the rations tomorrow.
The trees bloomed again, their light pink flowers contrasted beautifully against the white blanket of snow on the ground. My mother had charmed the everplums centuries ago to help with spreading famine; they bloomed and bore fruit all year long.
Before I’d made it all the way down the hill, movement drew my attention to someone standing beneath a blossoming tree. A familiar figure with broad shoulders leaned against a great trunk. They stood upright as I approached.
Realization crashed upon me with force.
A breeze kicked up, pulling pink petals from branches and swirling them around him. The jolt of power came from me, but I couldn’t help it.
Emmerick.
Here.
In the orchard.
Awake.
Was this a dream? Had I fallen asleep in the parlor?
I stilled. All the air knocked from my lungs on a gasp.
A burning stare found mine. I couldn’t move a damned muscle.
His stubble was thick, and his ungloved hands flexed at his sides. A petal from the tree above caught in his dark curls.
One moment I stood there stunned; the next I sprinted toward him before my mind could catch up.
His brows rose, but his arms opened just before I launched myself with such voracity that he stumbled backwards.
A humph sound escaped him as we hit the snow in a pile of panting breaths and pounding hearts. I’d knocked him clean off his feet.
“Is it really you, puppy?” I whispered into his collar as his arms tightened around me. The ice crunched beneath my knees, which had fallen to each side of his hips.
“I’m here.” He inhaled deeply, stubble catching in my hair, and drank me in as though he’d been waiting for this moment too.
In any other context, if a man smelled me, I’d find it unsettling and worthy of reprimand. Instead, I reveled in the feeling of his hand drawing circles on my back, grounding me to the fact that he was here.
“You smell like flowers,” he murmured. “I don’t remember that.”
Lifting my torso up, I sat there, unashamed to be straddling his waist, unabashed to run my hands up his abdomen and to his chest. He was a solid form of muscle, and even through the thick wool coat he wore, I could feel his heartbeat beneath my palms.
Real.
Here.
“It’s the orchard,” I breathed out.
He stared up at me, mouth agape. The gold of his irises seemed to be lit from within. “Miss me?” he said on an exhale before the most devastating smile greeted me.
“More than you could ever imagine,” I answered.
I laughed and dropped my hands on either side of his head.
He stilled beneath me, and his expression turned smoldering.
My lips were so close to his. Physicality came so naturally to me, and my body screamed to kiss him; logic told me it was a terrible idea.
Everything and nothing had changed—he deserved his dreams fulfilled, and romanticizing the moment did him no good.
Though, I couldn’t help but get lost in the way he took me in with so much adoration.
Reeling in my desire to claim him, I placed a lingering peck just beside his mouth. I’d steer clear of kissing him again. He needn’t know about the first time, and I had no proof of whose kiss truly had woken him.
When I straightened, his light brown cheeks were flushed mauve, and I couldn’t tell if it was due to my position or the bite of frost in the air.
He took my hands and held them, bringing them to his chest, still staring at me with wide-eyed wonder. “I might be able to imagine.”
My whole body slackened in relief. I should let him up. I shouldn’t sit there atop him like we’d ever been this intimate. Before the mirror, we’d been acquaintances—well, more like I’d been a thorn in his side, meddling in his business in Helos.
I tried to use our entwined hands to push myself up off him, but he held on. “Stay a minute. Please.” His whispered plea only melted me further.
“Of course. I have nowhere in the world I’d rather be.”
I slumped against his chest and let him hold me there until snow soaked through our clothes. When he was ready to rise, he helped me up, looking entirely unbothered by the chill that reddened our noses.
I’d tried for so long to convince myself that what I felt for him would fade.
It hadn’t.
We held hands as we walked through the orchard. Every other step, I swung his arm to make sure I was not dreaming.
Friends held hands. I’d held Krait’s hand plenty, or Sybilla’s. Justifying it to myself helped take the edge off any lingering heat.
He told me about the events of his day—of waking with Lark reading to him, of visiting his mother. “You were my second stop,” he said and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand as we reached the door.
I smirked. “Is that so? You wake up after twenty years and I am the second person you wanted to see?”
My stomach fluttered. Letting him care for me was foolish yet enticing. If he kept talking like that, I didn’t know if I was strong enough not to give in.
“Don’t act surprised,” he mumbled, with his dark brows pulled down in a expression of mock annoyance, which didn’t last even a moment before his gaze softened.
My hand lingered on the doorknob as I turned toward him. He towered over me, altogether too close for me to not have a million horrible ideas about what his lips would taste like, or what it might feel like to claw my nails down his muscled back.
I bit my lower lip. All the flighty, impulsive ideas were running rampant. Stop that.
“What are you thinking about, Else?”
“Nothing you can handle right now,” I answered.
His eyes widened. “Why does that sound sexually charged?”
“Do you remember who you’re speaking to?” I teased.
He chuckled and nodded for me to open the door. Snowflakes had collected on his dark lashes and stubble. I wanted to lick them off.
This would be a problem.
My horrid wandering imagination could surely exhibit some self-control. He’d not been awake twenty-four hours.
I reveled in the desire—I’d thought I’d lost my ability to feel heat coursing through my veins, to feel overtaken with the urge to touch someone.
We entered the estate and kicked off our boots before stepping into the parlor.
“Come, sit and dry,” I said.
We settled by the roaring fire in chairs across from one another.
The way his forehead wrinkled and posture softened as he stared at me was going to make self-control very difficult.
The comfort between us extended beyond the mirror, and having him here in my space felt more natural than having him anywhere else.
“Can I stay with you?” he asked. “Just for the night. Before I get thrown back into duties in Helos. I need a day to collect my thoughts.”
“Of course, pet. You are always welcome here.” I meant it.
Lark poked her head into the parlor. “I can go collect some of your belongings,” she offered. The little troublemaker had clearly been eavesdropping.
“Thank you, I’d appreciate that,” Emmerick said. “And thank you for keeping my state of consciousness quiet for now. I wouldn’t dream of making you lie to your mother for long.”
Lark smirked. “Oh, she’ll forgive me. Aunt El, can I take the Egress?”
I cleared my throat. “Yes, I’ll walk you out. Stay put and warm up,” I told Em when I stood.
On our way down the hall of a thousand doors, Lark began quietly singing, “El and Em lying beneath a tree. K-i-s-s-i—”
“Stop it,” I burst out with a laugh. “There will be none of that.”
She pinned me with an unamused expression. “Why not? It’s sweet. He is kinder than I imagined him, and handsome, and you enjoy his company.”
We reached the fifty-fifth door, and I narrowed my gaze at my meddling niece as she entered the Egress. “The sweetest things in life stay that way when preserved, Lark. Otherwise they rot. But thank you for bringing him here. It is nice to reunite with an old friend.”
Lark rolled her eyes playfully and said, “I think you’re wrong, but you’re welcome.” Then she commanded the Egress to whisk her back to Luz.