Chapter Fifty-One
CHAPTER
FIFTY-ONE
Aurelie couldn’t get her cloak to fasten the next morning.
The ties slipped once, then twice, before she cursed and tore it off entirely, pacing the room for what felt like the hundredth time.
Two unfamiliar greedborn had arrived at dawn with hot water for her to bathe.
She’d washed away any remnants of last night’s romp in the woods and allowed them to douse her in scented oils that left her smelling of lavender and myrrh.
If that wasn’t enough to make her feel like a new person, the dress they’d laid out certainly was.
It was a beautiful piece fit for a noble—a dusty periwinkle gown of fine silk, silver embroidery curling along the bodice and sleeves as delicate as frost traced upon glass.
The greedborn had returned later to help style her hair, and Aurelie stiffened every time their claws brushed her skin.
It didn’t escape her notice how they eyed the jewels Severin had sent for her, hesitant to let them go.
One had even tried to slip away with a brooch, though Aurelie reclaimed it easily enough.
By the time they’d left, she looked every bit the noblewoman fit to attend a royal wedding. But beneath her trappings, her stomach twisted tighter. She’d been patient, having convinced herself to follow the plan and wait for this wedding. But time was slipping through her fingers.
The room was too quiet, her thoughts far too loud.
She wondered whether her father’s tongue had grown back. Whether the knights were being kind to him.
Light, she needed her bonded to hurry. This room was beginning to make her thoughts spiral.
She hadn’t seen Yuri all day, but Severin stood within view of her window, helping several demons load the last few barrels into a wagon bed.
He wore a high-collared coat of deep obsidian, trimmed in silver filigree that caught the morning light like starlight on water.
A silk sash crossed his chest, fastened with a polished brooch in the shape of a serpent, and his boots were cut from black leather, fitted and gleaming.
His dark hair had been tied back with a red satin ribbon, a few strands curling at his jaw in a way that felt deliberate.
He was striking. So much so that Aurelie found herself reliving the night before, the ghost of his lips still lingering on her skin. She opened the door to call out to him, but a soft rustling gave her pause.
She turned to find a slip of parchment fluttering in the morning breeze, nailed to the side of the guardhouse by one of Yuri’s quills.
Heart in her throat, Aurelie stepped forward and pulled it free.
Aurelie,
I owe you an apology for leaving without speaking to you first, and for the things I said. I regret how I handled our situation, but I cannot regret standing by what I believe.
I must return to Sanctuary. This cure changes everything, and the angels must know of it at once. I’ve taken Vex with me—her knowledge may help the others understand.
I know you trust Severin. I know you believe in this cure. And so I wish the two of you the best on your journey home. I wish your father well, and I look forward to meeting him properly upon my return.
Until then, Light be with you.
—Yuri
He’d left her.
On the day she needed both him and Vex the most, they’d abandoned her.
The wind caught the edge of the letter, and she stared until the words blurred, her thumb pressed so tightly to the page it left a deep crease.
Her shoulder felt suddenly cold; she hadn’t realized how much she’d grown used to having the vesper there.
Only Severin remained, sleeves rolled to his elbows as he checked the carriage, ensuring everything was properly secured for their journey.
Aurelie’s heart lurched at the sight of him, and then she was running.
“Severin!” Her voice cracked sharp across the courtyard. He turned at once, eyes wide with alarm.
She didn’t wait for him to cross the space. She met him halfway, the letter crushed in her fist. Demons stepped aside as she passed, but she hardly noticed them.
“What is it?” he demanded, gripping her shoulders, scanning her quickly. “What’s wrong?”
She shoved the parchment into his hands. “He’s gone.”
Severin scanned the letter once, then again, slower this time.
“Did you know?” she asked, arms wrapping tight around her stomach. Light, she felt like she was going to be sick. “Did you see him leave?”
“I had no idea.” There was a deep, angry line between his brows, as if even he couldn’t believe Yuri would leave them like this. “I’d say we should go after him, but only an angel can reach Sanctuary.”
“I don’t want to go after him.” Her guilt was already curdling into something hotter. She tore the letter back and fisted it as a familiar wrath settled in her bones.
“He’s the one who chose to leave us.” Her voice was sharper now, brittle through the hurt. “Let him run to Sanctuary. Let him tell the angels. You and I will return to Rhovar and do what truly matters.”
Severin nodded, his hand wrapping around hers. “Come on, then,” he said softly, guiding her up toward the carriage. “Let’s go finish what we started.”