by Lisa Rector
Einion stiffened. What?
The feelings you had right before your shield broke.
Einion shook his head. What about them?
Did you feel the darkness? Despair boiled through you. Those weren’t your own feelings. Where’d they come from?
I don’t know, but it broke my concentration. Terror engulfed me. I had the feeling of sinking into an abyss. Any longer and I would have.
Be careful, Einion. It’s the Evil. It’s him… Cysgod. That’s how he works. He whispers, and we think it’s our own thoughts that make us feel worthless, but it’s him.
Einion shuddered. He would have to guard himself against any doubt. One moment of confusion had allowed him in during the one moment Einion needed his full strength—his full potential. Any inkling of worthlessness and Cysgod would grasp on to it and infiltrate Einion’s thoughts.
And that was more terrifying than anything Einion could ever imagine.
***
The palace yard ended where a small arched door opened in the rear garden wall. In the early hours, before the day’s bustle, Einion stood at the sloping hills overlooking the docks. The harsh river breezes stinging his face were as close to flying on Trahaearn as he could manage.
His busy life resumed with no time to recover from the tragedy at Gwenith. This was the only place he could hide. Einion stood out here morning after morning until the air chilled him to his bones, matching the feel in his heart. He didn’t use his light to sustain his body heat. He wanted to be numb. Absolutely numb—like death.
Brenin’s words turned over in his head. A ruler was powerless against nature, but what could Einion control? His light and darkness. He had honed his skill with the light for many years only to lose control when it was most crucial. When it actually mattered. This was not some game! He could never let it happen again—never again would anyone suffer for his mistakes.
Allowing the wind to rip through him, Einion lifted his arms wide and his face skyward.
Einion didn’t move, caught, slightly embarrassed when he felt Rhianu’s approach. She had a way of sneaking up on him lately. For the past few days, he didn’t pay attention to Rhianu roaming around the palace. He felt awful for ignoring her. And they never talked about what passed between them at the spring festival or the emotional exchange in the study.
Though her eyes bored into him, as she spoke the tension dissipated with her voice. “The wind is incredible!” Rhianu moved beside him and stretched out her arms as well. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “The smell of the water pricks at my memories.”
“Remembering anything else?” He dropped his arms to his sides and smiled at the sight of Rhianu. She didn’t seem ashamed, holding her arms out with her dress flapping wildly around her legs. Seeing her perform the same action and embrace the same feelings endeared her to Einion and laced his spirit with peace.
“Nothing new. Sometimes an inkling of familiarity passes through me.” She dropped her arms and gazed out over the water. “After seeing the beauty of the northern landscape, Aerona and I have slipped out and explored some of the country. I love this land. Aerona says it is nothing like home. Morvith is hot and bubbling, and the land is gray with rocks and scrubby trees and bushes. Crops can grow only along the coast where the lowlands thrive.”
Einion grinned at her. Every word she uttered had a way of pulling him past his grief. Why had he been hiding from her? “When I have an afternoon available, we’ll go out so I can show you some of my favorite places. Trahaearn is getting an itch for some quality time as well. How is Aerona handling life?”
“Surprisingly well. She hasn’t complained since that first night. She finds the new adventure exciting.”
Einion shrugged. “Good… I suppose.” Rhianu seemed to be adjusting well, and the thought made Einion jealous. He knew it was stupid to feel this way.
Rhianu smiled at him. “How are you handling your rule?”
“Don’t ask.”
Rhianu stared him down, forcing him to respond.
“I’m miserable. Why do you think I’m hiding?” Einion laughed and raked his fingers through his curls. As he looked at Rhianu, his concerns and worries poured out. Ignoring his self-loathing over the disaster, Einion talked about his new duties and stresses. He worried over his family and his subjects, even the weather pertaining to the crops and the trade coming in from the coast, and ties with his uncle and Rolant. He couldn’t stop. Anything to keep from talking about his failure, his weakness—the darkness inside, which hovered like a dormant illness.
They sat, Einion with his knees to his chest and Rhianu with her legs curled to the side, and talked well past time for him to go into the palace and take breakfast.
Rhianu found Einion’s hand, and she squeezed it.
He stopped blabbering like an Eilian.
“You’re avoiding it,” she said. “You need to talk about what happened. I need to talk about what happened.”
Einion glanced at her and returned the serious smile that crept up to eyes hooded by insanely lush lashes.
His frozen cheeks burned, and Einion felt selfish. He rambled about life’s busyness when here was a woman without any recollection of her history, offering a reassuring hand and asking to talk about an event that had scarred them both. And he was doing his best to avoid it. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Einion, please. I’m only asking you to be honest about your feelings. You can’t change what happened. What good is it if we can’t talk about this? You and I are the same. You think I don’t understand how the darkness feels? Granted, I have forgotten most of my memories, but I’m having nightmares. I’m reliving the horrors of my past, one by one. I’m terrified. I have darkness too.”
“I—” Einion swallowed. “I had no idea.”
Rhianu dipped her head. “I didn’t expect you to know, but believe me, if you dwell on this, the darkness will take root. I might not be skilled with my light, but I can at least see how your darkness grows. You’re as scared as I am.”
“I feel weak.”
“Being able to admit your weakness makes you strong,” Rhianu said. “Once you admit it, you can begin to move past it.”
“When did you become so wise? For someone who doesn’t remember much—”
Rhianu jabbed him in the ribs. “I’m not a complete halfwit.”
“I never said you were.” Einion shook his head. “I’m a mess, Rhianu. An absolute mess.” He grinned, feeling inane, but somehow, a degree lighter. “Don’t let everyone else know how much of a mess I am. Let’s keep this between us… and Trahaearn. I can’t hide anything from him.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty.”
Einion groaned at the title and, with reluctance, stood to return to the palace and his duties.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
REMEMBERING
Rhianu gave a start when Einion cleared his throat. They were in their usual spot, watching the ships leave port, and Rhianu had lapsed into deep meditation. Sometimes Einion sat in silence, and other times he chatted away. His energy and fidgeting suggested he was building up to a… confession? His gaze followed the progress of one of the fishing boats leaving the dock, as if he were stalling, waiting for the right words to find him.
He cleared his throat again. “Rhianu, I’ve been meaning to ask you. I think we’ve grown closer to each other over the last few days. I feel as though I can confide in you. I have a persistent curiosity, especially as I’ve been going over past events in my head…”
“Yes, go on. Ask me anything.” Rhianu couldn’t tell what exactly he was feeling. She had been experimenting with discerning feelings, attempting to use her light, but right now Einion’s emotions were jumbled.
“Did I miss something—I mean, the day of the first festival when you held the goblet up with me?”
Heat swept through Rhianu. She turned her head away from Einion until the hot flash left her. What had he realized? What had she realized? Rhianu knew what her resolve was—to
support Einion as he supported her, but what was the reason behind it?
Einion nudged her shoulder with his, and the gesture broke the awkwardness. Rhianu appreciated his playfulness during tense situations.
“So something did pass between us,” Einion said.
Rhianu shook her head. “I’d been fighting with my inner demons, and when our hands touched, I realized what path I wanted to be on.”
Einion’s shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly.
What did he think I’d say?
“That’s great,” Einion said. “So you feel as though life is falling into place for you?”
“Not falling into place, but more of a determination of who I want to be.”
“I see you spending time with Ellena.”
Rhianu shrugged. “She’s sweet enough. I like her.”
Ellena had formed an attachment to Rhianu that first day at the round breakfast table. Lord Aeron, one of the visiting lords here for Einion’s coronation, fell for Ellena with her demure smiles and sweet blushes, and they were to be married in a few short months. Rhianu and Ellena constantly giggled about her intended and the wedding plans—a pastime that seemed out of character for Rhianu, and yet she enjoyed engaging in it.
“So about that day in my study…” Einion said. “How did you work through your emotions like that? How were you able to accept what happened?”
“What are you talking about?” The memory of her sitting with her arms around Einion, comforting him, swam in her mind. She had relived the tragic mudslide hoping she could forget it once and for all. Oh, no.
He grinned. “I thought you had no idea what you were doing.”
“What did I do?” Embarrassment spread through her.
“You shared your feelings with me—of the whole traumatic event. Don’t look so revolted. Emrys do this all the time. The emotions flowed without effort so I knew you weren’t in control.”
“And you didn’t stop me?” Rhianu fanned her burning face. How could she have been so careless with her feelings? “It never occurred to you that those feelings were private? That maybe you should have blocked them?” Rhianu tried to stand, wanting to leave, but Einion grabbed her hand.
“Don’t go. I needed you. I needed to understand how someone else felt after Gwenna died. You showed me that I could work through this. It has taken me a while, but I think I can accept what happened. It’s the start of me moving on.”
Rhianu tugged on his grip, still wishing she could flee. Realizing that he might be sensing this, she stopped. I am a wall. He can’t read me. Oh, please don’t let him know how mortified I am.
How naked I am.
Never feeling so exposed in her life, she closed her eyes and inhaled, deep and slow, and allowed herself to succumb to his pleas. She stayed, acutely aware of every one of her feelings that Einion might perceive. This must be the first step of trust—baring all your insecurities. Who would have thought it would be this uncomfortable? But if she could move on from here, maybe she could build her new life on solid ground.
Einion snickered. “You’re getting the right idea. Shot a wall right up around those emotions. Excellent blocking.”
“I don’t like feeling vulnerable.”
“It’s safe to share your feelings with me, Rhianu. Young, inexperienced emrys don’t have much control. You could say that everyone respects the feelings coming off others. It’s perfectly normal where I come from.”
“Wish I could tell you if it was that way in Morvith.”
“Well, you see me, and I see you. We can just laugh about how pathetic we are, together.”
Rhianu groaned. Pathetic, indeed.
***
Taking a brief break, Einion slipped into the courtyard. As his life became busier, with no time to fly away from the palace, Trahaearn took it upon himself to be the center of amusement. When the sun dropped below the horizon in the evenings, he showed off, performing tricks—much to the household’s delight. Many of Einion’s attendants were humans, and dragons were a recent novelty as more of them entered the mortal realms, so Trahaearn’s performance quite entertained them.
Einion found himself wondering, as Trahaearn shot a flame into the air, if he was replacing Catrin with another. How could he be sure where the line fell? The feeling nagged at him. What if, because of Rhianu’s presence, he never learned to do anything on his own?
As it was, he and Rhianu fast became close friends and confidants. And what was more, Einion realized he looked at her as more than the lush, full lips and batting eyelashes from that first night together in Eilian. Einion often hurried from his last duty to supper, eager to see her.
He smiled at Rhianu, who stood beside him clapping at Trahaearn’s stunts. Leaning toward her he said, “I sent supplies and laborers to Gwenith.”
Her fingers squeezed his forearm, and her eyes shimmered. “That’s wonderful Einion. I’m sure they appreciate how generous their king is.”
Einion closed his eyes and waited until Rhianu released her grip. He was still not sure if he loved Catrin, and he felt her absence more every day. The outcome might have been different had she been at the festival. Catrin was powerful. She would have been right by his side, fortifying his light. His shield would have never dropped with her near. Einion shook his head. What was he thinking? Was he trying to pass the blame?
Rhianu laughed, her shoulders shaking and her eyes crinkling, as Trahaearn flapped his wings, fanning his flame wider. The heat scorched Einion’s brows, and the group collectively recoiled. Rhianu placed her hand on Einion’s shoulder as if to guide his steps back, a gesture both familiar and comforting that sent his pulse racing.
By the Light, why did Catrin leave me here with another woman? Could her trust be that strong—her feelings so sure? How could she know Einion wouldn’t fall for someone else? What if he did? Even if he and Catrin weren’t spoken for or intended for each other, it felt wrong to think of himself with another woman. Could he be that weak to move on so quickly? Einion didn’t like the doubt that dug its fingers further into a constant presence simmering under his skin.
He needed guidance.
After turning in for the evening, Einion skimmed his father’s journal, hoping for answers to life’s questions. Closer to the back were the entries about his mother, the last records written before Brenin’s death. Einion stopped and inhaled when Ahnalyn’s name jumped out at him. He backtracked to the beginning of the entry.
I came upon the most exquisite creature, so shy, yet her eyes flashed with brilliant light. I think I scared her to death. I caught her kneeling at the creekside, water dripping down her chin. She trembled like a rabbit that suddenly smelled a predator too close.
As I brought my horse to the water for a drink, I watched her. She was so serene. The moment caught my breath—my heart had not witnessed such peace since my mother died. Her rich, brown hair fell in a velvet curtain across her gaze—I could hardly tear mine away from her.
Einion gulped. He had missed the earlier entries about the death of Brenin’s mother. He knew the story his mother had told him—how Brenin found Ahnalyn shortly after his months of grief.
Oh, and she has fire! The woman tried to give me the brush-off. She refused to tell me her name at first. I broke her resolve. Or maybe she broke mine, toying with me over that peach! She coaxed a grin from me and won my intrigue. I can’t get her off my mind. Is this how it starts? Love? I can only hope. I’m making plans to steal away and see her again.
You’re on the right track, Einion, Trahaearn said. First, obsess over the woman. Check that one off your list.
Hmm, not much help. Einion kept reading. He didn’t want to ask—did Trahaearn mean Catrin or Rhianu?
My heart feels lighter. I cannot make the image or the sound of Ahnalyn’s laughter leave my mind—nor do I want to. She is easy to amuse. Ahnalyn has a deep sadness inside her, and I see it lift, as she lifts mine. If two people can make each other’s hearts soar, I believe they’re meant to be together
. I am resolved. Tomorrow, I ask for her hand. Mother would have loved her.
I make your heart soar, Trahaearn said. Forget Catrin. You have me.
Pressing his lips in a line, Einion sucked his cheeks together in a pointless effort. Einion couldn’t stifle the laugh. At least Trahaearn had meant Catrin.
Trahaearn, you are the greatest friend a man could ask for. I don’t think Brenin meant the kind of soaring we do. Though it does amazing things to “lift my heart” when we’re flying together. I think I see an example here. With matters of the heart, I think it helps to consider how one makes another feel. I have spent my whole life with Catrin, and she makes me confused.
That’s an understatement.
Einion cleared his throat, moving on. Trahaearn did have a point. Forget Catrin. Einion had a friend here—Rhianu, who was more than patient enough with him as he moaned over his burdens. I think that after the tragedy Rhianu and I have suffered through, we’re due for some fun and some lighter hearts. Brenin had the right idea to tackle grief.
Now, you’re talking. What are we going to do?
Just Rhianu and me on this one, Brother. I think she needs it, especially after listening to me ramble on and on.
You really know how to break a dragon’s heart.
Just this once, Trahaearn.
***
You’re cozying up to the king quite nicely. Your feelings are becoming very tender. Are you sure you don’t want to push the plan forward? Aerona asked.
Rhianu paused from brushing her hair. She hadn’t counted on how the child’s death would still leave such a mark on her—even after reliving it and talking it over with Einion. The girl’s snapping neck had reverberated through Rhianu’s whole body. The feeling would not leave. And Aerona asked if she wanted to go ahead with the mission! She felt sick. Aerona knew this. I can’t believe you would ask me such a thing. Didn’t you feel it? You were in my head. You felt her bones break. How can you be so unfeeling? I told you I wasn’t going to pursue this yet. I can’t add betrayal to my list of dark deeds.
