CHAPTER 37 #4
“I do.” I had to admit, they were beautifully crafted. The problem was, if I put these on now, I’d never be able to see. “Thank you, Merria. This is so thoughtful.”
She nodded and gave a little curtsey. “Come on, let’s go down.” She gripped me by my right arm, and I winced.
A tiny knock sounded at the door, and a moment later, Bale entered.
“Ah, two of my loveliest sisters. What a treat it is to be home.”
Merria giggled and released me, giving Bale a little twirl. “You’re going down?”
“Only if I can have you both on my arms.” His broad smile lit up his face, reminding me why he was always more successful at all the courting and ceremony than I was.
Merria took the opportunity to shove us both out of the sitting room and into the hall, but I took the moment to retreat.
“Go ahead, I’ll be right down,” I called over my shoulder as I hurried toward my room. “I just want to spend a moment adjusting these.” I held up my glasses.
“Have Gemma do your hair while you’re in there,” Merria called back.
I would rather die than be forced into the selection of hairstyles she had offered me.
Each one was more ridiculous than the next, with gold and ribbons and gem-tipped crowns.
Instead, behind the closed door of my room, I wedged the glasses between my knees and carefully popped the lenses free one at a time.
I cast around the room, shoved the lenses behind a bottle of ink and some melting wax in the writing desk drawer, then went to the mirror to check.
Unless someone was paying me close attention, I might just get away with it.
Dinner was an uncomfortable affair. Lord and Lady Fethersen, in addition to Tam, had returned to celebrate my return over dinner—and no doubt reinforce the expected alliance.
His younger brothers, the only three of the lot I would have liked to see, stayed home.
The meal started with Mother making a lovely show of seating Tam and me side by side at the center of the table.
“Only the best for our happy couple reunited!” she proclaimed and led our party in a round of applause.
My cheeks turned as red as my hair.
They passed out the aperitif, and I drank it quickly.
“You look lovely,” Tam said in a low voice at my side, sipping from his glass. “I’ve never seen this gown before. It suits you.”
“All Merria’s creation.” I looked down at my dress, a gaudy, scratchy nightmare next to the clothes I was wearing in the Riht.
Tam kept his right hand in his lap under the table. My right hand was cradled uselessly in my lap as well. We were a pair of wrong-handed simpletons tonight. I’d never before envied Bale his left-handedness.
“What’ve you got there?” I asked, nodding toward his lap.
He choked on his drink and flushed. He set down his glass, cleared his throat several times, then said, “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
My eyebrows knit together. “You’re bandaged?”
“Oh, right, of course.” His voice was that formal mask he used during the grand dinners we’d been forced to participate in since coming of age at fourteen. “It’s nothing major. I took an injury during your rescue.”
“My rescue?”
“Yes.”
Our eyes met. The slant of his jaw, the quirk of his brow, and the tensing of his shoulders all held challenge.
I was ready for a fucking challenge. “Do you see yourself as my rescuer?”
His lips pursed, and he leaned in toward me.
“When have I ever been one to discredit you?” he asked in a whisper.
“I am well aware that you can take care of yourself, but it doesn’t change that I came for you.
That’s the truth of it. I’m not asking you for anything but a little bit of acknowledgment that I’ve been here, doing what I can, every day for you. ”
“Tam,” I rested my hand on my oldest friend’s shoulder. “I’m not doubting that. I’m not doubting you.”
His throat bobbed. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“I am,” I said, though I tasted the lie as the words left my tongue. “But I have a much bigger responsibility now. You have to understand that.”
He placed his hand over mine, holding it against him and pressing lightly. “I know that. Everything you learned in Rihtlond is crucial to the kingdom. But once you’ve shared it all, things can go back to normal. We’ll get through this.”
Except, he didn’t know the half of it. He didn’t know about Vaya’la, my binding, the task she’d given me fighting the spreading evil, my training, both physically and with my power—any of it.
He never could. The doors of fate had closed between us as heavily as the gates of the city he’d failed to breach.
The time had passed when I might have returned to this place ready to pick up my old life, and I didn’t regret it.
I smiled at Tam, a courtier’s smile that might have been stolen from Merria’s lips. “Of course.”
He smiled back as the fruit course was served.
The mask I donned, I imagined, was the girl my parents wanted me to be, rather than the woman I had become.
I still laughed at the wrong times and sharpened my tongue when I should have been demure.
I needed them to see a version of me who was still me, in some ways, and yet not.
It was the version I imagined would have been happy as Tam’s wife.
Merria, put off by not being the center of attention, was in rare form. “Lady Fethersen, this wine is simply superb. I have never tasted a finer fruit,” she crooned.
Tam’s mother bristled. “Is it a wine from our lands, dear?”
Mother intervened. “That was at our last party before Serae’s return, Merria. So good of you to share from your vineyards for our gathering, Lady Fethersen.”
“Oh yes, I do recall. It was such a lovely evening.”
Merria would not be deterred.
“I simply cannot wait to help Serae with her dress design. I’ve learned all the latest fashions from my time at court with Lord and Lady Ingleton.”
“A lovely sentiment, my dear,” Father said.
“Your sister has a strong mind and makes excellent choices.” It was a compliment meant for Tam, not me.
“Tell me”—he turned back to Lord Fethersen—“what report do your tenants give of the late autumn crop? I’ve been told we’re expecting a more bountiful year than usual. ”
Lord Fethersen was a rotund man with a broad mustache whose primary fortune came from their crops. “Why, yes, I was speaking with our principal tenant just yesterday.”
Their conversation continued along the lines of yields, profits, and general finances while Merria pouted in her corner of the table beside Mother and thankfully opposite Lady Fethersen instead of me.
Tam leaned closer to me and whispered, “She’s in rare form tonight.”
I smirked. “As expected.”
“Can’t handle even one night without all the attention on her?”
“You have met her before tonight, yes?”
He chuckled, and this time, I found it easy to return his smile. Dealing with Merria’s antics was a cornerstone of our relationship. With the way he looked at me… Perhaps I could still find an ally in him yet.
It was a long time before I was able to crawl into my bed, completely spent from a day of posturing and mind games.
Kiral was sent to help me, thank the Great Dragon, though my heart panged for Gerta.
I hoped she’d fled back to her family home.
She used to tell me that her mother wanted her to marry, but she only wanted to make her own way in life.
Perhaps being away for so long brought her back to her roots.
When I was tucked in and finally alone, I sat in my bed with a single candle burning on my bedside table. I closed my eyes and pushed all my will toward that voice inside my head.
“Vaya’la?” I called.
No answer.
“Can you hear me?” I tried again.
Nothing.
I tried and tried until my head fell back against the pillow, and sleep overtook me.
That night, I had no dreams.
BALE
Mid-Autumn, Beymon 1036
I paced the length of my old bedroom, unable to sleep. I glanced up at the wall, eyeing a tapestry that hung lower than the rest.
No, I should let her rest.
I had too many thoughts swirling around my head to be coherent anyway. Amongst them, urging their way to the forefront, was a pair of ice-blue eyes.
Late into the night, I paced, and paced, and paced.
My mother would scold me for wearing a path into the rug if she were there.
Undoubtedly, she was tucked in, asleep beside Father, content in another day’s good progress.
The dinner with the Fethersens was a success, judging by the eager grins of the lord and lady when they bid goodnight.
I could barely keep down my dinner at the thought.
Not after the way I saw her eyes light up when she talked about her Rihtlondish prince.
Not after seeing him ready to destroy an army to get her back.
Fuck me. I had a terrible feeling I wasn’t the only one who left my heart back in Rihtlond.
Even more shocking, I recognized him. You don’t quickly forget the man who drives a blade through your shoulder and drags you across the sea to rot in a fucking cell.
Or his companion—Miloh’s murderer. My heart clenched at the thought.
Despite that, I couldn’t deny the feeling in my gut that they belonged together, in every way, down to the matching red of their hair.
I knew it with the same certainty I had always known Tam was never her match.
He had offered me a nightcap earlier, which I’d declined through clenched teeth.
That foolhardy man-child only wanted an excuse to stay over.
We had plenty of spare rooms in the manor, but I was certain Serae would be unhappy to find her new betrothed still here in the morning.
And Serae—Creator above—I didn’t even know what she’d been through, but the change in her was undeniable.
She always had strength of character, but now her body was toned.
She held herself taller and moved with a grace that radiated power.
A very real power I had witnessed with my own eyes.
Had I not already seen those monsters she called dragori, I might not have believed what I saw.
Magic, like the stories of old. The thought brought a smile to my lips.
If anyone could bring magic back into the world, it was my little sister.
The candle behind me spluttered out.
“Fucking bones and blood.”
There was no way I’d be able to find a flint in the dark, even with the moonlight streaming in through the window.
“You couldn’t have lasted a few more minutes?” I asked into the darkness.
The candle sputtered back to life.
I stopped short, having just fumbled my way to the top drawer of my desk.
I glanced over my shoulder. The candle had barely a sliver of wax left, yet the fire flickered, happy and steady, casting shadows around the room once more.
One creeping step at a time, I approached the candle, examining it where it stood.
There was a small bit of wick, the candleholder, and a few drips of wax down the side. That was it.
I frowned. “Take it,” a voice in my head beckoned.
My thoughts were running away from me. I needed to sleep.
I pulled the tunic off my back and cast it to the floor.
Then, I stripped off the ridiculous leggings I was made to wear.
The scraps of my old uniform had been burned last night, but it couldn’t be denied they were far more comfortable than the nonsense dress of busybody nobles.
I climbed into bed nude, trying to ignore the images my mind provided of skin and muscle and a blond braid made for pulling in the best way. I fell into a fitful sleep, only dimly aware that the candle on my bedside table had yet to flicker out.