Chapter 48
Elsedora
As I sat in bed, I combed my damp hair, trying and failing to forget what Emmerick had revealed. If I forgot, then it wouldn’t hurt so badly that he’d gone days without telling me.
Guilt created a rash on my chest. I’d held things from him, too. My involvement in Helos, Bringham’s ultimatum to marry, that our first kiss had not happened in that sea cavern.
A gentle knock told me Emmerick had kept his promise to return.
“Any spiders that need handling?” his muffled voice called. I set the brush down and pulled back the covers. Luckily, I’d chosen a longer wool nightgown to fight the cold. It had been a frigid day, and a fire roared beneath the mantel.
I swung open the door to reveal a hulking man leaning against the frame. He, too, was dressed for sleep in a tight-knit long sleeve shirt and loose-fitting breeches. He glanced over me briefly before a gentle smile graced his face.
“I wanted to say goodnight. And, El… I should have told you sooner. I was so caught up in working it out myself. Which was foolish when there was someone to share it all with.”
The hurt settled into remorse. I could think of no reason he should be sorry, and having him in my space brought me a new sort of peace—one where quiet moments like this felt important.
“I may have overreacted,” I said. “Just a smidge.”
He shook his head to disagree and made to speak again.
I held a finger to his lips, which he playfully swatted away, as he said, “I’m so—”
“Enough—I don’t need the gallantry of groveling.” Though I wouldn’t mind him on his knees. “How is Angeline?”
His tender smile melted me.
“Chattering on—what Wyeth has given her for the pain makes her loose-lipped and loopy. She asked about you. Multiple times.”
“I’d pay to see that. And what did you tell her?”
His expression turned mischievous. “Only good things. She was upset you didn’t come with me—made me feel quite inadequate, actually.”
The moment of levity sank. I owed her a visit—when she was well. I glanced toward the fire, where two armchairs sat. “Do you want to have a nightcap with me?”
He nodded. “I thought you’d never ask.”
I stepped aside, and Emmerick walked toward the chairs. “Wine or something stronger?”
“Whatever you’re having.”
Something stronger, then.
Why did this feel so stiff?
I’d never taken another to this room. It’s where my parents’ bedchamber used to sit in the old floor plan. During renovations, it had been the one room I did not wish to replicate perfectly.
Instead, I’d decorated to my taste. A large picture window sat to the right, draped in heavy burgundy wool.
The rugs were the finest Sahlmsaran textiles.
I’d taken pieces of the desert with me—terrazzo tile lay below the thick woven rugs, and rocky landscapes painted in brown and red oils decorated the walls.
I’d longed for home while in Sahlmsara, but my bedchamber here paid tribute to the place I’d called home for so long. The Sahlms had welcomed me when I had nowhere else to turn.
Emmerick settled into an armchair and lazily put his hands behind his head as he watched me pour two fingers of amber liquor for each of us.
I ignored the heat that spread through my body.
His attention became the sweetest torture.
I’d not felt this off-kilter since I was a girl writing a profession of love to a boy who didn’t know my name.
If I were still the type of girl to wish upon stars and pluck petals off daisies, then I’d wish to be capable of everything he deserved. But I did not wish to be a mother, or a queen, or an obstacle along his path to greatness.
He would be an honorable ruler for the Corridor I loved.
I set his glass on the side table. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”
He shrugged and met my gaze as I sat across from him. “Maybe I should be. The last time that crown sat on my head things went to shit fast. But it sounds like I have far better support in Helos’ affairs.”
I frowned. “Do you want to rule, Emmerick?”
He sighed. “I want what is right—to keep the Corridor safe and to leave no one vulnerable. Plus, I have an advisor who would never steer me wrong.” He seared me with one of those damned expressions of adoration.
I sipped the liquor. “I’m doing the job asked of me.”
His stare narrowed. “You always sell your capabilities short. There’s not another person alive who could juggle the affairs of three courts, spend her free time raiding old tombs, and have the audacity to look as glowing as you do.”
The light of the fire danced across his features as he picked up his glass and sipped it, fixated on me. I desperately tried to quell the lightheaded feeling his compliments inspired.
“You think I’m glowing, pet?” I teased, glancing over my glass at him.
“You’re stunning, and you know it. Don’t insult me by not accepting the compliment. I’m not getting distracted this time.”
I huffed and winced at the liquor’s burn. “Handsome and charming. How does one get so lucky?”
He closed his eyes and rested his head back on the chair cushion. “I don’t know about all of that. But you’re still speaking to me. I’d say that makes me the luckiest man alive.”
I watched him as he rubbed his temples.
The taste of his lips haunted me; his smile sent a fluttering sensation to my stomach. Yet I couldn’t let him settle for me.
The world had just opened up for him. He was turning fifty—young for an immortal. So many possibilities awaited him. A crown, a future, a son.
After a long silence stretched between us, he seemed to read where my mind had wandered. “What if he hates me for not trying to find him? What do you even say to a child you spent twenty years apart from?”
I straightened in my seat and pulled the nightgown down over my knees. “Hate you? Impossible. You’ve been asleep. And he’s been loitering around Luz, around you, for years. You say something from the heart; you say what you feel.”
Hypocritical, really.
His hand dropped away from his face, and he looked over at me. “He did?”
“Yes. I always wondered where Lark’s fascination with you stemmed. It makes a lot more sense now that I think about it.”
He smiled.
Flutter.
I would die wanting this man, and knowing it was best to set him on his way.
“I can’t help but feel a sense of hope. What if they succeed together? I’ve no attachment to the boy and yet… I just know he will be a better man than I have been.”
I set down my glass abruptly. “If I’m not allowed to diminish my accomplishments, you’re not allowed to say such things about yourself, either. You are among the best of men—not the man that Caym made you to be.”
Letting my chin fall onto my palm, I seared him with my best stubborn stare. He met it with hesitation.
“Then, why does it feel like I’m not out of his grasp?
Like nothing good will ever truly be mine again?
” The burning in his eyes made my heart skip.
“I used to dream of having the life my parents led—quiet, happy, safe. A roof over my children’s heads, food on the table.
It seemed so simple. Yet now I have a son that I don’t even know. I missed it all.”
His words only proved his error. He was worthy of all his former dreams coming true.
My blood ran hot, thinking about all the time Caym had stolen from him.
“You can still have your dream. Yes, Caym took away your chance to raise Dritan, but immortal life is not defined by what you do in your first fifty years, or first hundred, or more even. You are only getting started.” I dared not look at him.
“Did you ever want children?” His voice quieted as he eased the question out.
I shrugged, though my throat itched and my palms felt clammy. “When I was around your age, I used to have this recurring dream. I had a babe, but I would keep forgetting they were mine or how to care for them. Each time, I’d wake up feeling broken up about it.
“It may have been my mind’s way of telling me I’d never be ready for such an attachment. Now I’m much too old, anyway, but I’ve never regretted not having children.”
Stranger things had happened; but conceiving after an immortal’s hundredth birthday was rare, and often only occurred between Source Matches.
He hummed and tapped his fingers against the chair’s arm. “The way you are with Lark—you’re her fiercest protector, and she seems to think the world of you. I doubt she feels like that lacks attachment.”
Damn it. He’d played on my weak spot.
I wouldn’t deny him that.
“Fine—I admit. Being a role model for that girl has grounded me. A tiny bit.”
“What about marriage? Have you considered it?”
I huffed a laugh. “Oh, puppy. I wouldn’t make anyone a suitable partner.”
His brows rose, and I read the disbelief etched there. “I think you are wrong,” he said with his whole chest.
I hummed, contemplating what that life could look like and only imagining him.
When wedding bells would ring in Helos, my heart would shatter. Because I had changed. Flighty, impulsive, young Elsie might have fought to keep him and selfishly held him for her own whims and comforts.
“I don’t see myself marrying,” I said. “But sometimes it gets lonely living in the moment alone.”
He contemplated me, tongue sliding over his bottom lip in a tempting way.
Pointing a finger lazily at me, he said, “Have you considered cats?”
My mouth dropped open.
“For the loneliness?” he clarified. “I can send some Lynx.”
I pulled a small pillow from behind me and threw it at his head.
He laughed, catching it. “I’m joking. About the last part. I want you to be happy.”
The warmth of his demeanor melted me. For a moment, I let myself believe that we’d sit here every night, that he’d return home to me and we’d have an eternity together.
I cleared my throat. “Have you thought about being a father? I know you already are, but that doesn’t mean you have lost the chance for the life you dream of.”
He seemed conflicted when I chanced a glance at him.
I wouldn’t let him wallow in self-pity for years when he could carry on.
“Plenty. I was an only child. Growing up, I’d always imagined a big family. But right now? That seems a distant desire.”
I cleared my throat. “Why? Why not marry? I could help you find someone fitting.”
This would be so much easier if he’d turn his attention elsewhere.
I’d invite every woman I knew tomorrow if that was what it took. The pretty Luz florist, noblewomen, my friends from a Helos pleasure hall—every single one. Every possibility.
He huffed an indignant laugh. “Stop that.”
“What?” I demanded.
He tipped his head to one side and rolled his eyes. “Nothing. I imagine things a bit differently now. The things I dreamt of before are changing. You pawning me off is just deflecting what you are too scared to admit.”
Emboldened by the kick of liquor, he appeared entirely relaxed.
There was a question in his statement. One I wouldn’t answer.
Not tonight. Likely never.
“Are we ever going to talk about that kiss in the cave?” he asked.
There it was.
My throat constricted. “We were rattled. We’d almost died. It’s a common thing to seek a thrill after such a close call. Don’t fret about...” The justification died on my tongue.
“Mhm,” he sighed out. His smug demeanor said, I don’t buy it.
His lids drooped, as though he could drift off right there, in the chair, as he took his last drag of drink.
“I’ll get out of your hair,” he mused and rose.
I shot up beside him and blurted, “Stay.”
He hesitated.
Damn it all.
I didn’t want him to go.
“Is that a good idea? Wouldn’t want us to risk seeking any more ‘thrills,’” he deadpanned.
Stepping toward him, I said, “I promised to cut that out, and I mean it this time. Sleep here. With me.”
His head tilted as though not believing me as he met my pleading stare. The way he bit his lower lip in thought almost melted me again.
I continued, “I will keep my hands to myself, my clothes on, and my lips off yours.” I added a wink for good measure.
I’d do whatever it took to keep him in my space. I’d never merely lain with someone before. It sounded more indulgent than sex.
He chuckled, and his cheeks darkened a touch. “Fine. Only because I don’t know if I could fall asleep knowing an eight-legged creature may lurk over your bed in the wee hours of the night. You’d be completely unprotected.”
I rolled my eyes, shuffling to my bed and pulling back the sheets. Emmerick hesitantly approached the footboard, watching me.
With a pat on the side opposite me, the furthest my fingers could reach, I welcomed him. “You poke fun at me over the spiders. Are you still afraid of monsters under the bed?”
He huffed a laugh. “Not quite. Only the ones in them. But you seem to be my remedy for sleepless nights.”
He ran a hand across the back of his neck; his endearing nervous tell sank itself under my skin and warmed my blood.
“I’ve been told that before in a much different context.” I laughed, and he groaned.
He lay down atop of the sheets beside me.
Ever the gentleman.
Turning toward him, I extended my hand—a harmless gesture.
He took it, pulling it to his heart and running his thumb over the back in a slow, sweeping motion, as his stare aimed up at the wood beams above.
He’d shaved, but dark stubble already graced his perfect jawline. His sculpted chest rose and fell below my hand.
Kissing him again crossed my mind, but I fought the impulse.
I watched his profile as his lashes drifted downward. When I reached up and massaged his scalp through his mussed curls, he let out a pleased grumble and fully closed his eyes.
So much for keeping my hands to myself.
It was the most intimate moment I’d ever shared with someone, and all our clothes were on. I’d never needed someone so much.
My heart ached. All those plucked daisies and shooting stars had worked at the most inconvenient of times.