CHAPTER 16 #3
I frowned, whether at that thought or the fact that my eyes had been glued to Wep this entire time.
Lispen’s smile was sharp. “I’ll smack you again if you can’t control that tongue.”
Silence fell except for the shuffle of feet, the clang of metal, and their grunts of exertion.
Wep’s face was calm. Even his consummate mask of annoyance had fallen away while he focused.
I glanced at Ell, the one I should be watching.
His face flickered between exertion and mirth.
He said something I couldn’t hear over the crashing of blades.
Wep frowned, just a little thing, but it was more emotion than he ever let on his face during a match.
It was over in a flash. I didn’t even see what happened, but one of Ell’s blades clattered to the ground. He had fallen to his knees, and Wep had both swords crossed at his neck in an X.
Raif nodded. “Told you. He’s not our weaponmaster for nothing.”
There was a rumble of agreement all around, and one by one, we turned back to our pairings.
I don’t know what I expected of Eldreth, but considering what I knew of his father and brother, I shouldn’t be surprised by that level of skill.
The reality of his position as future dane hit me alongside a new fear.
If I was bound to Vaya’la, would I be able to leave?
And if my father’s army failed to reach me, if I was forced to stay, could I really stand at Eldreth’s side as dana?
Focusing on my sparring progress suddenly held a new weight.
I ran my fingers through my mass of tangled curls, pulling out a stray dried leaf.
Not expecting to have to train today, I’d skipped braiding it.
I eyed the little thing as it crumpled in my fingers, dreading what it meant for my hair if it was stuck there all through training.
Or perhaps I’d been holding back more than I realized.
The simple thought refocused me, and I faced Lex, determined to give every move my all.
THE FOLLOWING day presented me with another free morning.
Training was to be held in the afternoon again, so I decided to visit the market.
Callagh joined, and already I had learned this was an advantage.
She knew everyone. And, while the people we passed mostly gave me sour looks, nothing more happened with Callagh at my side.
We approached a store with shelves of stacked jars lining the walls visible through the window. “Can we stop here?” I asked.
Callagh nodded. “You’ll love Lanh Cergia, my lady. She was just telling my mother how she’d like to know more about Inra.”
As soon as the shop door opened, the warm scents of clove, cinnamon, rosemary, and peppercorn enveloped me. My nose was so sensitive, I could pick out each individual fragrance plus a dozen more fresh herbs.
“I’ll be right there!” called a woman in Rihtish.
Jars clinked as she rummaged behind a counter.
When she straightened, her graying curls bounced around her face.
“Callagh, dear,” she cooed. This was the same in every shop we entered, in every stand we stopped at, and from many people on the street.
“Lanh Cergia, so wonderful to see you again.”
“Oh pish, you’re too kind to an old woman like me, but I’m no sweet lady like this lass.” She switched to Mayoran at the sight of me.
“Have you met my lady, Serae?”
She turned to me. “Hello, dear, it’s just Cergia.” She put a hand to her heart, leaving flecks of herbs on her shirt, which she brushed off with a little huff.
I couldn’t help but smile. Something about Cergia tickled a memory and brought to mind Cook from my childhood.
“What brings you into my little shop?” the older woman asked, eyes flicking between Callagh and me.
“Oh, uhm, I’m so fond of bottles,” I said.
Callagh choked behind me.
“For herbs, I mean! Not just empty bottles.”
Vaya’la’s laugh invaded my mind, and I groaned inwardly, fighting the urge to cover my face.
“Can you tell Serae a bit about the herbs and spices you make? She’s got an excellent nose.”
“Ah, a woman after my own heart.” Cergia lit up at the request. “Please come and see.”
One second, I was standing just inside the doorway, and the next, I was hauled behind the counter and had my face shoved into a bowl of greens.
“Smell! Smell! Isn’t it wonderful?”
I took a tiny sniff. Holy Martyrs, it truly was. It was an herb I wasn’t familiar with—narrow leaves growing on long stems. Beside it, another bowl overflowed with stems, and the next held just the stripped leaves. The scent was a bit spicy, fresh, and aromatic.
“Taste!” Cergia dropped leaves into my hand. “I bet you have nothing like that where you come from. It’s called savory, or that’s my best translation of it. Grows in heaps in the wild here, but these fools around us wouldn’t know it from brambles.” She cackled at her own joke.
I nibbled one of the fresh leaves. It tasted exactly as it smelled. I could imagine adding it to fish, vegetables, pies…
“It’s good, yes? I have a great cookie recipe that uses it.”
I raised a brow, but Cergia forged on.
“This batch I’m going to extract into an oil. But I do it dried, too. Lasts longer that way, though not as strong. What do you think it’s used for, eh?”
“Fortitude of the mind.”
“Excuse you?”
“Fine, don’t tell her.”
“Mental strength,” I blurted. Then, to Vaya’la, “Are you here all the time now?”
“More of your memories come through to me as our binding tightens. The same will happen for you.”
As if to prove a point, I was in the air, wings spread broad. The clouds around me were pink against an orange sky. I soared, then dived toward a green lake. I blinked.
Cergia gave me a sharp look. “Yes. Very good. Come, come, I know just what you need.” She took my arm and pulled me around the counter toward towering shelves that lined the shop.
Small jars, large jars, bags, and baskets were stacked everywhere, but she stopped at a section of wooden boxes.
She plucked one up and set it into my hands.
“What do you think of this?”
I pried the lid open. The box was divided into a dozen little compartments, each one filled with a different spice. Some were ground into fine powders, others were whole seeds, and a few were partially crushed leaves.
“It’s wonderful,” I breathed. I wanted it to be mine.
I was rarely the type to see something and covet it.
That was always Merria—with dresses, shoes, parasols, ribbons.
Martyrs, if she even looked at jewels… Back home, I wanted for nothing, but there was also very little that I might actually want. I reached for my scale pouch.
“Good.” Cergia nodded at Callagh across the shop. “I’ll send my bill to Dane, yes?”
“Please,” Callagh confirmed. It was done before I could protest. The scale I carried came from Dane anyway, I reminded myself. I had never earned money of my own in my life, a detail that had never bothered me before that moment.
The spice box was not the only thing I brought back from the market.
Toward the center was the flower stand. I chose carefully, remembering what Bale had taught me.
Some petals crushed best when dried, others when soaked.
I wasn’t much of a painter, but I loved helping him prepare the paints.
An idea was taking shape. With Callagh’s help, we visited Lanh Migram, the tailor, who was happy to sell me a few bolts of pale neutral cloth.
It was a thicker material than I’d been wearing, but she assured me they would be perfect when the chill came down from the mountains.
She was curious in a polite sort of way about my intentions with the cloth.
“Bring it here when you’re done, and I’ll make it into anything you like,” she said with a patronizing smile.
It took a lot of focus to stop my eyes from rolling.
“How does this all work, my lady?” Callagh asked when we were well clear of the shop.
“The spices are for tea, but this—I’ll show you tonight.”
AFTERNOON TRAINING jumped on me with fierce aggression, only I didn’t possess the energy to counter it.
Still, I entered the training room with my head held high.
Wep, his back to the door, and the rest of my ranng were already in stance, waiting for me.
Our little trip to the market had taken more of the morning than I’d expected.
“Sorry,” I whispered to Teke as I fell into place.
Wep glanced over his shoulder and spotted me. “Good, let’s begin.” He rushed us through a warmup dowsa then assigned us sparring partners without once meeting my gaze. He looked right through me, sparking my anger. I glowered at him before turning to face Teke.
“You’re off today,” they observed, throwing a series of punches.
I dodged left and right, then ducked into a low kick. “Just rushed,” I said, following Teke into a gripped roll. We separated and reset. “We were getting supplies.”
“For?” Teke lunged.
I miscalculated and walked right into their strike instead of sidestepping it. “Oof! A… project… Damn, that connected good.”
They grinned, and their guard relaxed.
I struck, still close enough to get inside their reach. One punch to the shoulder and one to the gut, both pulled.
“Fuck,” Teke wheezed, and it was my turn to grin.
By the end, we’d each made enough hits to be blossoming a rainbow of bruises beneath our clothes, but that didn’t dim the smile on our faces. Turns out, all I needed was to land a few good blows to improve my mood. The fact that I was able to land any was reason enough to celebrate.
“Dismissed,” was all we got from Wep.
Right. Still a prick then.
I don’t know why I did it, but I hung back.
“Hot springs? You’ve never been,” Teke offered. “Lispen and Raif are going too.”
I shook my head, glancing over at Wep.
They raised their eyebrows but didn’t press. “We’re headed to the Main Hall after. Catch up if you want.”
I nodded, ignoring the way my stomach dropped.
Not only had I yet to be invited to eat in the Main Hall, but I also wasn’t sure I wanted to.
I still attracted more than my share of glares and whispers when walking the streets.
How much worse would it be if trapped in a room with it? Not exactly my idea of a peaceful meal.
It was a worry for another day. I steeled myself and turned to Wep, knowing we were alone.
“You need something?” All his ire was now directed at me.
“No,” I blurted, forgetting myself under that gaze.
He tried to turn his back on me, but I surged forward, catching his forearm.
“Yes, actually. What gives?”
He glared down at my hand then back at me. “Something wrong with my training?”
I clenched my jaw. “No, but you’re being an ass.”
“Noted. Anything else you want from me?”
Martyrs, what did I want from him? I dropped his arm and backed away. “I—” I shook my head. This was idiocy. He was allowed his bad moods—it shouldn’t affect me. At least, not more than anyone else in my ranng, but I didn’t see them here confronting him. “No. Nothing.”
I left. I hurried down the corridor in a daze back toward my rooms, but as I passed the Relaxation Room, a hand shot out and pulled me inside.
I squeaked.
It was Ell, looking at me with a catlike smile. “Been practicing with my dear brother again?” he asked with far too much mirth in his voice.
“No,” I answered, moving toward the center of the room and putting distance between us. “Dowsae and sparring. He didn’t join.”
“Tsk, tsk, naughty brother of mine.” He stepped toward me, blocking my exit.
I quirked an eyebrow. Something was off—his smile too broad, his attention too focused. I couldn’t make sense of his lifelight, flashing green with flecks of umber.
“Mischief,” Vaya’la supplied.
“He always wants to stand back and watch, rather than make the right move.” Another step.
“He didn’t watch either.” I stood very still. What was his game?
Another step closer. “Did that drive you mad, my sweet?”
Something unpleasant clenched in my stomach.
“Are you only happy when his eyes are on you, devouring you? Or, do you let anyone’s eyes do that?”
Another step. One more and he would be close enough to touch. He must have meant to do just that, as with his final step, he raised a hand and crooned, “Do you let others touch you the way you let him?”
A tightness seized me as Ell’s fingers caressed down my cheek. No, not a tightness—a tautness. I was a coil ready to spring, which is exactly what I did, smacking his hand away. “The only way Wep touches me is in sparring. What are you suggesting of me?”
His chuckle was a taunt. “Where has your mind taken you?”
I stepped back, right into the low table.
I stumbled over it, my ankle smacking hard into the edge right on the bone.
I tried to catch myself, but the joint rolled.
I collapsed. Pain exploded through me. I swore in a way that would make my mother blush.
I already had a purple bruise blossoming over that ankle from a poorly placed block during sparring.
My leg from the knee down vibrated in anger.
Ell dropped into a crouch. He was surveying me with an odd look on his face.
“Don’t touch me,” I hissed through clenched teeth.
Ell rolled his eyes. “So sensitive.” He stood and offered me a hand. “Come on, let’s get you up.”
The tone of his voice had changed entirely.
Both the playfulness and mockery had vanished.
It was stripped down, and I had a feeling this was the first I’d ever heard him—the real Eldreth—speaking.
Only then did I recognize his attitude for what it was: a mask.
I took his proffered hand, and he hauled me to my feet—foot.
I couldn’t put pressure on the right one yet.
“Can you walk?”
I nodded.
“Liar. Let’s get you to a healer and have that ankle looked at.”
“Fine.” It probably would be fine, but it wasn’t a great sign that the joint couldn’t bear weight.
“You know, you’re rather jumpy for someone who’s supposed to be the future dana of the Riht,” Ell said with a smile back on his face. It was friendly and lopsided and completely at odds with his usual sharpness.
“Fuck off.”
His grin only widened.