Trade (Deridia Book 2)

by Catherine Miller

  Edlyn put down her own work. “Would you prefer if I leave so you may rest? I do not wish to intrude.”

  Renna shook her head adamantly. To be alone would take away all distraction from her thoughts and would leave room for feelings, and those she would actively choose to avoid. “No, stay, please. I’m just sorry I’m not better company.”

  Edlyn’s fingers returned to their work, one hand twirling the handle while the other maintained proper tension with masterful skill. “Your husband is worried for you.”

  Renna’s own fingers halted as she looked up sharply. “He is?”

  Edlyn could not contain all of her smile, the corners of her full lips quirking upward. “Yes. He said you seemed sullen today, and I wasn’t to bother you if you were in no mood for a friend.”

  Renna chuckled, despite herself. From someone else, she wasn’t certain she would classify that as concern but from Machrus...

  The petty, jealous part of her that had rankled at his secrecy smoothed for Edlyn to so easily share his private words with her, and she felt even more childish for having been bothered by it at all.

  “I suppose I should be glad he noticed.” She had not been oblivious to his stares, though he had not asked her outright about the cause of her mood. Perhaps he feared the answer.

  She bit her lip, her stomach twisting in guilt. She feared the answer.

  Edlyn paused in her work. “Do you feel that he ignores you?”

  Renna shook her head. “Not lately. Not after I...” she gave a half-shrug, not certain how much she was supposed to disclose.

  “After you...?” Edlyn prompted lightly. Renna was starting to appreciate her manner. She was a sweet woman, her concern genuine and her urging was mild.

  “I talked to him about it,” Renna disclosed at last, deciding that she would accept Edlyn’s offer of friendship without worrying herself to death about the consequences. “He was... very... cool towards me,” as kind a way as she could put it. “Distant. Silent. But he’s trying, and I really do appreciate it.”

  Edlyn did not frown, only went back to her twine with a satisfied smile. “I am glad, for that is as it should be.”

  Renna gave her own string a tug, wondering if she would be too bold to ask after Edlyn’s own marriage. But the Marzon was generous, and she could not imagine her doing more than giving a gentle refusal should she find the question impertinent. “Were things... difficult for you and Lorken in the beginning? Forgive me for saying so, but you seem... very different from one another.”

  If the gathering yesterday had shown her anything, it was that the couples were terribly different from one another. But they complimented nicely as well, so it couldn’t be an entirely bad thing.

  Edlyn’s smile broadened. “There is nothing to forgive. We are very different. Lorken is...” her fingers stilled for a moment, her eyes losing focus, and Renna wondered if the mention of him made her feel out the bond. Was it a wonderful feeling? To share such closeness even when separated?

  She focused on her work, trying not to let envy get the better of her.

  Edlyn shook her head. “When we first met, I thought him loud and almost frightening. The men of my people are much more... sedate than he. I thought his teasing bordered on meanness, for I did not know him well enough to realise he was trying, in his way, to put me at ease.”

  “But... wasn’t it doing the opposite?”

  Edlyn laughed. “Yes. And when I finally told him that, he was horrified. To this day, I have never seen quite that expression from him again.” She spoke of it so fondly, as if their beginnings were something long treasured, and Renna wondered if she would ever feel that way about her initial meeting with Machrus.

  When thinking of the terror she felt when he drowned her,—cleansed her—she doubted it.

  “Things improved after that. He learned how to talk with me, and I grew more comfortable with him.”

  Renna looked down at her work, trying to measure her voice so as not to appear too interested, but needing to know all the same. “Do you think the bond is what fixed everything?”

  Edlyn looked to her in surprise. “Of course not.”

  Renna blinked, not expecting her adamant reply. “Really?”

  “Renna,” Edlyn sighed, reaching out and taking her hand in hers. “You came from a people who knew nothing of bonds, yes?” Renna nodded in confirmation. “My people do not either, but from birth I knew that either myself or one of my sisters would be chosen to wed into the Marzon line, and our instructors made it clear that it is not the bond that will determine whether our marriage is a good one. It might be a benefit, and it certainly can prove a delight, but it cannot fix what is broken. Only you two may do that.”

  Renna swallowed. “Machrus... he is afraid that the bond acts as some kind of... compulsion. That it overrides what we want until all that’s left is... is a want of our spouse.”

  Edlyn’s mouth dropped open. “That is absurd!” She shook her head steadily. “Machrus should know better... he was born of the Marzon! And for him to burden you with such thoughts...”

  Renna looked at her miserably. “I’m not sure it is absurd. We have arranged marriages in our histories too, and most of them end... quite unhappily. But none of yours are like that, so I can see why he’s so concerned.”

  Edlyn closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, she had restored her peaceful countenance. Renna admired her for that, for her ability to calm herself so efficiently, and wondered if that was a skill she might learn. “Is there more reason that causes you concern? I should think seeing us happy in our marriages would give you hope for your own, not fear.”

  Renna bit her lip, wondering how honest she intended to be. She did not want to divulge her entire history—it was enough to have given that to Machrus—but there were things she could say without sharing everything. “When I came here... I didn’t intend to have a real marriage.” She glanced at Edlyn, noting the woman’s confusion. “I did not... intend to have any romantic feelings toward him. I thought we could simply... exist with one another, and that would be more than enough. Machrus felt much the same.”

  Edlyn’s eyes brightened for a moment before she seemed to force herself to serenity. “And has that changed?”

  Renna hiccoughed, a sob catching her in her throat, and she clapped a hand over her mouth lest it fully escape. “Please, don’t tell anyone!” she managed to get out, horrified that she had said it at all.

  “Oh,” Edlyn rose in dismay, hurrying toward her before she knelt and wrapped her up in a tight embrace. “Do not cry. There is no need.” Her words had the opposite effect, making Renna’s tears come, hot and steady, but Edlyn hushed her and murmured softly, things in a language that Renna did not know, and only vaguely did she wonder why the bond did not translate for her.

  “There certainly is a need!” Renna contradicted through her sobs, pushing away her tears and trying to sit up properly. She must look frightful. “Machrus does not want a wife, so it is unfair of me to start desiring a husband. We’d agreed in the beginning, and for me to change my mind now...”

  “Is reasonable,” Edlyn tried to soothe, but Renna shook her head, frustration eating at her belly. This was a pointless conversation. Edlyn was sweet for trying to encourage her, but Machrus was the only one with the power to change anything, and he had already improved in the areas he was willing to adjust. She was getting greedy, and selfish, and she could afford to be neither.

  She was horrified when the door opened, and she whirled away lest Machrus see the evidence of all her crying and think there was even more reason for concern. She managed a few steadying breaths, but she was certain her face was red and her eyes were swollen—they certainly itched enough—but she could not avoid him forever, so begrudgingly, she turned back to glance at the doorway.

  Only to see Marella standing there awkwardly. “I am sorry,” she fussed, fiddling with the handle of her basket. “I did knock, but...” Renna blinked, certain she
was mistaken, but the tips of Marella’s pointed ears started to tinge a vibrant violet, and she made to scurry back outside.

  “It’s all right,” Renna called, halting the woman before she could run away entirely. She was clearly embarrassed, and Renna supposed it would not be good to encourage free access into Machrus’s home, but she had not the energy for a rebuke. “You can join us.”

  Marella relaxed, though her fingers still twitched along her basket, her eyes flitting between the two women. She had been so at ease yesterday, so seeing her anxious was a startling contrast. “I have interrupted something,” she observed apologetically. “It is wrong for me to intrude.”

  Renna shook her head firmly. She was grateful for the interruption as further discussion with Edlyn would only prove more painful. She had revealed more than she should, admitted far more than was wise, and she could only hope that Edlyn would remain true to her word and keep silent on the matter. She would not have anyone pressuring Machrus on the subject. He had faced enough of that already in having to marry her.

  “Edlyn has been teaching me to use this,” she told Marella, holding up the tiny spinning wheel with its polished wood and barely passable twine.

  “That is yours to keep,” Edlyn told Renna. “Should you like to make use of it.”

  Refusals were quick upon her tongue—it was too fine a thing, the entire mechanism fascinating with the way all its components moved and twirled together so smoothly—but she had asked to be helpful, and she would not reject her first opportunity. “Thank you,” she said instead, and meaning it.

  Marella smiled, producing her own work from her basket. She did not have a wheel of her own, but a small skin of leather. Renna wondered what she intended to do with it, but when she picked up a needle and thread and began to work, it became clear that Marella had a particular skill for embroidery. Flowers and buds in swirls of green and cream were already in place, becoming more elaborate with every prick of her needle.

  Renna looked at her own lumpy twine and felt a momentary pang of uselessness, but she quickly pushed it away. She was learning, and would not be embarrassed about the results. At least for now. They likely didn’t know the safest way to catch Hasarts, not like she did, and both were skills that took great practise to master.

  Her life thus far had prioritised function over beauty, but she would learn to appreciate the Marzon way, in time.

  “I spoke with my husband,” Marella announced, making steady stitches with her needle. “He will be more welcoming in the future.”

  Renna’s shoulders slumped. “I didn’t need you to do that, honestly. He was kind enough.”

  “We are not a people who are satisfied with kind enough,” Marella insisted. “And his devotion to his brother should not preclude him from being warm to his new sister.”

  Renna bit her tongue to keep from arguing. “Did he... did he tell you what caused such a problem between him and Dundrel?”

  Things had been cool between them for the remainder of the day. Dundrel had been quiet and sullen, and though Renna had seen him approach Machrus before they took their leave, her husband had ignored him quite thoroughly. It troubled her.

  Marella and Edlyn shared a brief look, and Renna narrowed her eyes at the both of them. “Did it have something to do with me?” Worry gnawed at her that she was already causing such discord for Machrus and his family, and her longing for home increased. She knew what to expect there, and that lent a sense of safety. Life was hard, but fairly uncomplicated. She knew what was required of her, and she did it, following orders without question. But here...

  Here she was a problem. And would be more so if she could not get a handle of her emotions.

  Marella smoothed her fingers across her stitches, considering. “Machrus... did not appreciate his brother’s manner either,” she said at last.

  Renna had not expected that. “He... didn’t?”

  “That surprises you?” asked Edlyn, her eyes focused on her own work.

  Renna suppressed a scoff, but just barely. “Yes,” she managed to answer civilly. “I know I’m an inconvenience to him. He only tries to be my friend because I was so miserable with how things were.” She was met with two looks of dismay. “I know he wasn’t intending to be mean,” Renna hastened to clarify. “And things are better now,” and also so much worse, the wanting a near constant ache in her heart.

  Edlyn eyed her worriedly, and Renna feared she would say something in reference to her earlier upset. But she merely sighed and returned to her work, Marella giving her a peculiar look before addressing Renna directly. “I am glad to hear your relationship is improving. That is all we desire for you both. And though Dundrel might not have fully appreciated his brother’s reprimand, that is encouraging as well.”

  “It is?” Renna was not so certain.

  Marella glanced up from her embroidery. “You do not agree? Your acceptance here matters to him, otherwise he would not have intervened. I should think that indicates he cares for you.”

  Renna grimaced, but did not voice her misgivings aloud. It did mean that he respected her role as a wife, but she did not share the same conclusion. Machrus was a good man who valued his duty and his responsibility to her, but that did not at all translate to a true care and desire for her. And that was what she craved. That she should matter to him for her own sake, that he would admire her for herself, and not simply because she had been given to him to call wife.

  But she did not want to discuss it any longer, and she was grateful when both ladies seemed to understand that, with only minimal hedging on Renna’s part. And eventually, Marella produced a sheet of parchment and a thin stick of charcoal, laying them before Renna with a smile. “Now, if you will allow me trace your hand, I can finish these gloves for you.”

  And though she almost argued that it was all too fine, that Marella needn’t waste such beautiful work on her, she accepted the gift with a smile of her own. Machrus thought her gracious, after all.

  Renna was studying the contents of the cook pot when Machrus came home. Marella and Edlyn had left hours before, Marella insisting the gloves would be finished soon. “We cannot have your fingers freezing off when the snows come,” she had insisted with a pat to Renna’s shoulder. “And they could come at any day.”

  Renna still could not quite imagine this snow, or the apparent heaps of it that would soon cover all the green. But she would sound ignorant to question it, so she had nodded and given all the thanks she could for Marella’s generosity, before Edlyn helped direct her on a supper recipe she could make before Machrus would return.

  It looked better than her previous day’s attempt, though the children had been particularly fond of even that. This one had tested her knife work, all manner of green and red things joining a broth in the pot, and even to her it smelled lovely.

  And it would be warm, and that was a welcome thought.

  When Machrus opened the door, a brisk breeze of chilly air came with him, the fire flickering in the hearth before he managed to close and bolt it again.

  “Machrus,” she began thoughtfully, still wondering at what the change of season entailed. “What do the grenpeets do when it snows?”

  If he was surprised by her lack of other greeting, he did not show it. He came closer and peered into the cook pot, giving a satisfied nod at the contents. “There are burrows on the other side of the hill. They will live there until the thaw.”

  Renna nodded, glad she would not have to imagine them outside her door, shivering and unhappy while she was tucked up underground.

  He leaned down, her eyes widening to see him suddenly so close, and she leaned back from his suspicious look. “Why? Are you worried for them? That is quite the difference from believing them a threat.”

  She swallowed, unused to his proximity, and she shuffled backward, her heart already racing. Her control was slipping, for already she wanted to give him a playful swat, to tease him back, to... to flirt.

  “I will never think fondly
of suffering,” she retorted stiffly, trying to push away her foolishness, yet finding it nearly impossible. It made her want to cry, but she simply refused to give into that display again, and instead went in search of bowls for their meal.

  She was reminded of her thought last night, that it would be better for her to sleep elsewhere, but with how easily she seemed to succumb to temptation, with a clutch at her belly she wondered if even that would be enough.

  She was a coward, and she knew it. It was easier to run and hide than to face rejection, to deal with confrontation, and even now she longed to simply return to her people.

  She found the bowls after only opening two wrong cupboards beforehand, Machrus still hovering close by. He took them from her when she returned to the fireside, and she surrendered them meekly. He really did seem better equipped to handle hot things, never flinching from a heated spoon that would have singed her own skin for certain.

  “This looks very nice,” he complimented, bringing his portion close so he could inhale the fragrant steam. “Did my sisters teach it to you?”

  “Edlyn did,” Renna confirmed, her insides squirming to hear praise from him. She hurried to the table and tucked in to her meal, trying to settle herself, to find some way to simply enjoy his company without this horrible need of hers for more.

  She burned her tongue on the contents, whimpering as she did so, and felt the prickle of tears yet again. A cup appeared before her, cool water soothing against her abraded tongue, but his attentiveness only made her feel worse. But still, she managed to thank him, this time forcing herself to take careful sips as he came and joined her at the table. “What did you do today?” she asked him in lieu of having to describe her own.

  Machrus took a hearty bite of his soup, giving a hum of approval at the taste, and she noted with only a hint of bitterness that the heat did not seem to affect him in the least.