Page 12 of Between Wrath and Mercy

Lavenia nodded, watching me thoughtfully. I laid back and found myself starting to think about how scared Elora must be, and then, more horrifyingly, about how loudmouthed my daughter could be sometimes. I was grateful Faxon was there with her. As long as Faxon was still alive, he’d do everything he could to protect her. Gods, I hoped he was still alive.

At some point, Lavenia curled up in the bed next to me, a scarf wrapped protectively around her braids, and she quickly fell asleep. It was comforting, and I was able to drift off.

Warm arms wrapped tightly around me.

A hand traced the curve of my jaw, lips gently chasing the same path.

Lips on mine. Fumbling hands.

A gasp. A groan. “We can’t do this.”

Pain jolting through my arm, over and over.

“They’re here.”

Fear.

Sweat and tears and blood filling my nostrils.

A scream.

“Lucia! No!”

Hands on my back. Shouting. Falling.

Darkness and water. So much water.

“Emma. Emmeline, wake up. It’s alright.” Lavenia placed a soothing hand on my clammy forehead. It was pitch black in the room, too early to be awake yet. I rolled over to face Lavenia, even though I couldn’t see her, wiping a mix of tears and snot from my face the best I could. My throat felt raw; I must have been screaming.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Don’t be. I was there too. I know.” She reached out and grabbed my hand and pulled it to her chest. I was touched by the fact she remembered my ability, knowing it might soothe me. I focused on her heartbeat. Hearing her breathing and heart slowing, I was pulled into a trance, slowly falling back asleep. One thought wouldn’t leave my mind as I finally drifted off. Iwasn’tthere. Not when I could’ve done anything for Lucia. Rainier had rifted me away.

Chapter 6

Iwokeupatthe sound of Nana’s quiet knock and stretched. It was funny, recognizing exactly who knocked and the purpose of it all these years later. I heard her footsteps head down the hall, choosing not to linger after waking me. The bed here was so much nicer than my bed at home. The sheets were softer, and I couldn’t feel any feathers poking through the mattress. Looking around my old room, the faintest light coming in through sheer curtains, it was as if I’d been transported back in time. The walls were still a light blue, and I wondered if Lucia’s room was also unchanged. She’d picked a deep red for her walls, joking about the blood of her enemies when Mother asked why. She’d been so different from me in so many ways. Lucia was confident in her abilities and found her destiny an honor, even if it was a burden. I would have hated the responsibility. Even the expectations of me as the Beloved’s sister sometimes proved to be too much.

Lavenia was still in bed with me, snoring softly. I decided not to wake her until I was finished getting ready, giving her more time to sleep. Since I never fetched my pack, I sighed, knowing I’d have to put my still damp clothes back on. Based on the way my nightgown sat on my hips, I wouldn’t find breeches here that would fit me. If I even had any breeches here to begin with, a garment I rarely wore until I lived on my own, away from the expectations of being a lord’s daughter. When I undressed and my hand brushed against my face, it felt oily and a bit gritty. I had pushed Bree yesterday and never cleaned up from the road. Searching desperately for a brush to pull through my mass of hair, I guessed there was likely one in the bathroom I’d shared with Lucia. I pulled my dirty shirt over my head, not bothering with the bodice yet. There was a small amount of blood on the collar I cringed over, but I had to wear something. Turning the knob as quietly as possible so as not to disturb Lavenia, I went into the bathroom.

Catching sight of myself in the mirror, it was then I realized how insane I must have looked rushing in after the ride from Brambleton. With wet hair a mess, blood on my face, and eyes ablaze, I must have looked mad. I pulled open a drawer, found a brush, and began to tame the wild mane of hair. Peering into the same mirror I’d used growing up, too short to see it for the longest time, I simultaneously felt at home and lost—a ghost misplaced in time.

Knowing rifting wasn’t always the smoothest form of travel, I chose to braid my hair, starting above one eyebrow and crossing to the opposite ear, pulling the strands away from my face as I went. I smiled as I remembered the first time Rainier had rifted with me. We had wanted to go further east along the stream toward Tuaman Cliffs where it grew wider. We stepped through, and, not understanding the angle we were positioned, the prince stumbled backward down a slope, landing hard in the water. My sides had hurt from laughing so hard. His accuracy was dependent on how distracted he was. One time, after a particularly dreary meeting with the king and a Myriad Master, he’d rifted us ten feet above the meadow and barely managed to bring the earth up to us to soften our landing. To his credit, neither of us were watching where we walked, too busy kissing one another to pay attention. And of course, the last time we rifted came to mind, but I pushed it out of my head.

I finished the braid and turned on the water, splashing my face as quickly as possible. One of the things I hadn’t realized I’d missed was having hot, running water. The servants kept the water boiler filled and stoked during the day, and I was grateful they’d already attended to it. It was something only the gentry and royalty generally had, so I’d had to get used to using an ewer and filling up washbasins. I found a washcloth and bar of soap smelling of lilacs and violets, and it brought back a rush of memories that blended in my mind. The smell of a thousand different mornings spent with my sister and our friends. I inhaled the scent desperately. Nana hadn’t sent any for me in a long time. I never buttoned the top half of my shirt, so I took the washcloth to my skin, attempting to rid myself of the grime from the day before. With the water running and my eyes closed, appreciating the hot water, I didn’t even hear the door open.

“Shit!”

Startled, I looked up, eyes wide. Rainier stood in the doorway staring at me through the mirror with his mouth open.

“Get out!”

I pulled my shirt together as fast as I could. He couldn’t possibly have seen much, but it still felt like an invasion. It was more of my skin than anyone had seen in a long time. Where skin was considered, I couldn’t help but notice Rainier was shirtless—pale scars I didn’t recognize splashed across his tawny skin. Driven by the sight of my scrambling, it must have dawned on him that he couldn’t continue to stand there frozen in shock and horror. As he whirled to the door, I noticed one long scar across his muscular back, the puckered slash starting on his shoulder and moving diagonally across toward his opposite hip. He slammed the door to Lucia’s room behind him. I hadn’t known anyone had been given Lucia’s quarters, let alone him. I kicked myself for not thinking I’d be sharing the bathroom. I finished washing up and pulled out a new washcloth and set it on the counter for him before tentatively knocking on the adjoining door.

“I’m finished in here. I—sorry.” I couldn’t get out of the bathroom fast enough, slamming the door shut behind me accidentally. I came face to face with Lavenia, still rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“What’s going on? Why are you slamming doors?” She gave a sleepy smile as she brushed past me, headed toward the door I’d just hurriedly slammed shut.

“Wait! Rainier is in there!” I rushed out, not wanting the incidental bathroom run-ins to continue. Lavenia stared at me in confusion, and something akin to amusement fluttered across her face.

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