He picked up one—from Olivia—and praise Nox, both she and Jon were fine. Not something for Rielle to be angry about, but according to Olivia… Not only has the Grand Divinus defeated the dragon, but she’d also reclaimed her throne.
With a sigh, he dropped his head in his hand.
Great Wolf, now Rielle would never let him forget it, always saying, If only you’d let me stay and fight, then the Grand Divinus wouldn’t have reclaimed her throne. I and the others could’ve defeated the dragon, deposed the Grand Divinus, and—
He’d never hear the end of it.
Olivia’s note invited them to depart with her and Jon on the Aurora tomorrow morning.
He picked up the other paper. Send my things and Marfa’s to Laurentine. Olivia has something for you.
Was that where she’d gone? To Olivia, to give her something for him?
Maybe she just wanted space, to board the ship already, ahead of him. He glanced at the open jar of her queen’s lace on the vanity and frowned.
If she’d boarded the ship in haste, she would leave many things behind, but not this. She’d take her cloak, her coin purse, and this jar, even if she’d leave everything else behind.
He sealed it, gripped it in the palm of his hand, and headed downstairs. Samara and Una were cloaked and headed out the door toward the carriage.
“Where you going?”
“Making sure Samara gets back safely,” Una said, while Samara rested her gaze on the jar he held and bit her lip.
“Do you know something about this?” He held the jar out to Samara. She was an apothecary, after all.
She nodded quickly and fidgeted. “I—I noticed that it was wild carrot root and not queen’s lace, and I—I told her—”
“It’s what?” he blurted, his heart racing.
Samara eyed him, gaping. “It’s not queen’s lace. It looks like it, but it’s actually an imitation. She—”
An imitation? Rielle would’ve never switched them herself—
He closed his eyes and sighed.
My son, it matters a great deal. You must have an heir, Mother had said.
Mother—
Nox’s black breath, of all the things—
Una reached out to him and took his hand. “Bren—”
Taking a deep breath, he took a step toward her and Samara. “If you’re going to Jon’s, then I’m coming with you.”
Doubtless, Rielle would have run into Olivia with this. He’d talk to Mother about boundaries later, but he needed to set this right with Rielle. Immediately.
They boarded the carriage, and the ride to Jon’s rented villa was short but silent, as if Samara and Una didn’t dare speak while he was there. Did he look as angry as he felt? Mother had told him to resolve the situation that night he’d made the blood offering, had told him to resolve the situation.
And he had.
Three years. Rielle hadn’t known when she’d be ready for a family of their own, but she’d agreed to start trying after three years. But Mother hadn’t waited for him to resolve the situation at all, and had instead taken the matter into her own hands.
As the carriage rolled to a stop, he threw open the door, greeted the guards, who let him through. He marched into the garden, where the entire household was moving, loading up carriages and tending to horses. Even Jon emerged, carrying a saddle, from the stable.
Drawing an arm across his forehead, Jon met his gaze, then set down the saddle on a nearby bench. Dusting off his hands, he approached.
“And what brings you here?” Jon crossed his arms and leaned against the villa’s wall.
“Olivia sent a note,” Brennan said, then slowly bridged the distance between them until he stood only a few feet away. “I just wanted to talk to Rielle.”
Jon tilted his head. “She isn’t here.”
There was no regularity in his heartbeat. He wasn’t lying.
Then where was she? Had she gone back to Staff & Stein?
“I saw you leave with her,” Jon said, his eyebrow raised. “Is there something—”
“I have to go.” He didn’t wait for Jon’s reply before storming out of the villa’s garden and into the street. She hadn’t come here, so had she left him again for the inn?
He pulled on the bond, but felt nothing. Just like when she’d been cuffed in arcanir.
Had she… used arcanir so he couldn’t find her? His strides lengthened.
She was leaving for good.
Nox’s black breath—
He ran to Staff & Stein, but she wasn’t there, and the only other place he could think of that she would go would be to the Red Veil, where her brother was staying. He went there next.
Il Serpente was dense with people today, and he pushed through them, the Red Veil’s steep roof jutting out above the other buildings. He shouldered through patrons filing out onto the stairs and darted inside.
With one hand gripping the bar, he slid a gold corona across to the buxom redhead who seemed to be the madam. “I’m here to see Captain Verib.”
She picked up the corona and clamped it between her teeth, then smiled at him. “You just missed him. He checked out about an hour ago.”
The bar crunched in his grip, and the redhead gasped.
Liam’s ship was departing Magehold.
And the woman I love is on it.
Chapter 63
Aboard the Aurora, Jon stared out the window at the shifting waves of the Shining Sea. Their objective in Magehold had been completed.
The Grand Divinus had refused to name Rielle a magister, and so, had denied Emaurria the mages he had requested.
Back on the shores of his own land, he’d know whether Leigh had succeeded or not. If Leigh had successfully negotiated an alliance with the Covens, then Emaurria stood a chance—against the Immortals, against the pirates, against enemy nations, and perhaps even the Divinity.
Olivia entered his cabin and shut the door with a heavy sigh. "If Brennan and his family are here, then he and Rielle must be fighting again.”
They'd had some lovers quarrels recently, but he was reasonably certain that there wasn't a couple alive that didn't quarrel. Once they reunited in Emaurria, Brennan would apologize, or she would, and there would be peace between them again.
Olivia took a few hesitant steps further into the cabin. "Jon, clearly things aren't perfect between them. And clearly… you still love her."
He continued staring out the window. It was nothing new.
Another few hesitant steps. “Why don’t you just tell her? Doesn’t she deserve to know? To make her own choice? Instead of this… whatever this is… You choosing to be miserable." She sighed.
Choosing to be miserable?
It certainly felt that way sometimes, but he didn't have time to feel miserable. He had one thing ahead of him, and one thing only: doing his all to save his kingdom. And with his answer from the Grand Divinus, he was well on his way to doing just that. If Leigh had done his part, then they’d return to an alliance with the Covens, and all the aid he needed.
"Jon," Olivia said, stepping up next to him. "When I save you, you can spend an entire life happy with her. When you bring the Tower and the Order under the Crown, she doesn't have to be a mistress. She can be your wife. Our queen. So what's holding you back?"
He lowered his gaze to the dust on the sill and ran his fingers through it, disturbed it. "Olivia… I really don't want to talk about this."
"Well, she's my best friend, and I do,” Olivia said, jutting out her chin. “I don't like who she's becoming with Brennan. She's… compromising her dreams. And it might work out well, or it might not."
She didn’t understand. Brennan would do anything that was required to make her happy. There was no doubt of that. Rielle was the only thing in his life, the only thing he cared about, the only thing he would kill for, or die for. He’d proven that.
"Olivia, I have faith that you can save my life. I have faith that I can bring the Tower and the Order under the Crown. But t
his isn't just my life alone anymore. It's hers, too. And I can't risk her life on my faith." He rubbed the dust off his finger. "There's no risk with Brennan. He doesn't have to worry about surviving to be with her, or worrying about moving mountains to marry her. It's easy with him. Simple. And if things don't go well for me, he can give her everything I can't."
She blew out a sharp breath. “He can't give her you."
"I'm not irreplaceable, Olivia. If I were, she wouldn't have left with him that night." He thought through that night, and thought through it again and again, and again, and that was the one thorn he couldn't remove. He'd caused her pain, immeasurable pain, and he deserved…. all of everything that happened. He knew that, accepted it, deep down. It made sense. Perfect sense.
But no matter how many times he told himself that, the ripples of pain from that thorn… that feeling… wouldn’t abate.
She’d been angry with him, so angry, disappointed, saddened. She'd ended things with him, and she’d left. That had hurt, but he’d deserved it.
But she’d left… with Brennan. She'd walked out of that room, out of that night, out of his love with her… with Brennan. And not only had she left, but in the blink of an eye, she and Brennan had gotten together. Were getting married. That thorn in him, buried in his heart, still bled... and she was happy. With another man.
He accepted all of it, but no matter his acceptance, it hurt, that part, and he hadn't been able to reason it into disappearing.
He was replaceable.
That hurt—he would bear it, carry it for as long as he had to. He would go to her wedding, and watch her handfasting to Brennan, and accept that they were sharing the rest of their lives. And he wouldn't interfere.
"I don't believe it," Olivia shot back. "I don't believe it at all."
He looked over at her, at the anguished contortion of her face, and shook his head. It wasn’t so long ago that Olivia had been confessing her feelings for him, but here she was, demanding he be honest with Rielle.
Olivia wanted him to be happy, was a true friend, even if her advice was misguided. It didn't matter if she believed it or not, the reality was what it was.
"I don't believe it because… I saw the look in her eyes after I left that stable." Olivia lowered her gaze. "I thought that she was worried about you, but that wasn't it. The look in her eyes, it was… bleak. So bleak. Like the world was falling away from her feet, and all she could do was watch. If she… assumed we’d been together, then that look… It's the look that only a person losing the one they love would have."
He peered at her through squinted eyes and blinked. That wasn't… There was no…
No.
He'd seen that look.
He'd seen that bleakness in her eyes, the world falling away from her feet. But… he'd ignored it, ignored it because of that shifting feeling he'd had in his chest, the one that had been telling him to take her hand and reassure her that he'd always belong to her, and only her, to swear his undying love for her.
He couldn't have. He couldn't have said or done any of that, because it would mean… It would mean…
"You're afraid," she breathed.
He was afraid. Afraid that he wouldn't live past two years. Afraid that Rielle would throw her chances of happiness with Brennan for a man who could never give her anything but suffering and loss. Afraid that even if by some miracle he survived, he wouldn't be able to bring the Tower and the Order under the Crown, that not only would he be unable to give the kingdom the strength it needed, but he'd never be in a position to offer her anything, anything she deserved.
And a life in the shadows—no, she deserved so much more than that.
But he couldn't force Parliament to do anything, and if the kingdom didn't have the strength needed within, the lords would never agree to give up the chance to find that strength from without.
And no responsible person should.
But where would that leave Rielle?
He had faith. He was prepared to do anything and everything to live, to fight, to give the kingdom the strength it needed to survive, and to thrive.
But… if he failed, if, then he wasn't going to take her with him. Never.
"Jon," Olivia said, her voice breaking, and she took a step closer. "You don't have to be afraid. I swore to you that I would find a way to—”
"I don't want to discuss this, Olivia." Crossing his arms, he turned back to the windows, shut her out, and stared.
Emaurria had enemies.
And there was sword work to be done.
Chapter 64
When Beaufort finally came into view, Leigh exhaled a relieved breath. The ride back from the mountain had been lengthy and quiet, with Della consoling Ava, and Ambriel and Katia only giving him sympatheticlooks.
Beyond some very basic conversation, he hadn’t even spoken much to Ava, especially not about being her father, and she’d kept to herself, occasionally crying with Della.
It was clear that Ava had loved Brice. She was only thirteen, but her friend—the boy she’d known since she’d been barely old enough to speak—had been irreplaceable to her. When the dryad had killed him, Ava had fractured.
And even now, free of fureur, she was still fractured.
He knew about that, knew about that hollow ache between the pieces of himself, and how it could never be filled, with anything or with anyone. It would remain there forever, and if he dwelled on it forever, so would he.
Right after Hana, Takumi, and Yuki had died, he’d wanted to dwell on it, had wanted to suffer, as much as possible. Punishment. Penance. The white-hot fire that would burn out every ounce of wrong inside of him until nothing remained but a shell of himself.
But as much as that hurt, it was easy. It was easy to give in, to let the pain destroy him, to feel nothing, to become nothing. What Shiori had taught him was that if he truly wanted to atone, he couldn’t surrender. He’d have to devote himself to something greater, become the person he wished could have saved his own family.
True redemption could only ever be difficult.
It had taken him years to truly accept that, and sometimes, he still had the desire to give in to that hollow ache, and let it eat him alive. In each of those times was a struggle, a struggle that he overcame, and here he was, alive, and so were all the people he’d saved over the years.
And so was Ava.
He’d taught Rielle about redemption’s difficulty, and soon, Ava would have to learn. It would take time, and it would hurt, but she’d have to accept the loss of Brice and the terrible things she’d done under fureur. And then find the strength to devote herself to something greater, and find true redemption.
Della led the way to the Beaufoys’ house, and Axelle ran out, threw her arms around Ava, and kissed her all over, then dragged Della into her embrace, too. She led them all inside, where Katia threw herself down on the softest bed for a nap, and where among tea and conversation, Axelle rested her hands on his shoulders.
“This is Master Leigh Galvan,” she said, holding Ava’s dull gaze as Della hugged her on the sofa. “He’s your father.”
Leigh straightened in his seat, tea spilling over the edges of his cup as he coughed. He avoided Ava’s gaze while Ambriel patted his back.
“I know,” Ava said, rubbing her lips together. “I knew from the moment I looked at him.”
Her words were hesitant, matter-of-fact, and he let Ambriel take the cup of tea from him and set it down on the nearby table.
“But if you’re my father,” she began, blinking those dark-blue eyes of hers, “then why am I only seeing you just now?”
The words were fragile, soft-spoken, but they had a bite that plunged deep, to the bone.
Drawing in a deep breath, he rubbed his palms on his knees. “I… Before you were born, I lost control of my power… and I hurt some people I cared about very much.”
Ava pulled her arms in closer to her body, and Della rubbed her shoulder.
“Leigh is the strongest person I’
ve ever known,” Della said to her, and Ava swallowed, looked up at her, and then at him. A hesitant gaze evaluated him, and he stayed silent, let her come to her own conclusions about him.
He hadn’t been in her life for thirteen years, and now that she was seeing him for the first time, he wasn’t about to try to force anything. If she hated him and never wanted to see him again, well, then he’d leave today and come back tomorrow, and get yelled at again, leave again, and repeat it all until she hated him a little bit less.
Ava stood, and Della reluctantly released her as she approached him.
“Thank you,” Ava said, “for helping me.” She bowed her head to him, then after a moment’s silence, left the room before he could say anything else.
He looked over his shoulder after her, but Ambriel took his hand and leaned in.
“Be patient with her, dreshan,” Ambriel said softly.
He could be patient. As patient as it would take to become a part of her life.
“Give her time,” Della said with a gentle nod. “She’s grown up a little more reserved than most children.”
Of that he had no doubt. Other children could be merciless to those with a single parent. Another problem he’d caused.
“So what brought you here, Leigh?” Axelle asked, handing him a white cloth. He blotted at his tea-stained coat.
“Ava,” he answered, then took a deep breath and thought further back. “Also, King Jonathan wanted me to negotiate an alliance with the Coven, so the kingdom can break away from the Divinity and defeat the Immortals. Gustave and Joel have already agreed.” He pulled the sleeve back from his arm, exposing their vowing-clasp thumbprints.
“I’ve been waiting for a king with the balls to cut ties with Magehold.” Axelle bit her thumb and held out her hand.
“Wait,” Della said from behind her. She took a deep breath and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before meeting his gaze. “Ava’s going to need a master.”
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