Page 72 of Between Wrath and Mercy

“He plans to give us Elora in exchange for taking him prisoner.” Rainier quirked a brow. “He wants us to take down Declan. If he believes Cyran has been taken, he’ll make moves to get him back. I don’t get the sense of true brotherly love from them, just that it would be an insult to the royal family. Cyran will be with us, giving us all the information he can.”

Rainier ran his hand over his face. He looked tired. “Do you believe him?”

“I think I do. I want to talk to Elora first before we trust him.”

I went on to explain that Cyran would appear in an illusion in one week, and he’d bring Elora with him.As long as she behaves, he’d said. I’d be able to see how well she’d been treated, and I could decide then if I wanted to trust him. The thought of seeing her in a week had sent hope flooding through my veins. Rainier sat in silence for a few moments, and I almost went back upstairs to bed to give him time to think on it.

“This doesn’t change much. I’ll still need to petition for troops to send to the Cascade. I’ll need to do it in waves, so that Declan doesn’t grow suspicious. I—we—will go there, before the new moon, and take Elora and Prince Cyran back to the palace. Then, I guess, make moves from there.”

I nodded and stood, grateful there was a plan. The negotiations were complete, and I’d get to see Elora in a week, even if it was only an illusion. “Oh, and he has Faxon chained up outside like a dog.” Rainier laughed in surprise before sobering.

“Was he part of the negotiations?” The way he asked it seemed like he was trying to gauge my reaction. I wasn’t sure why.

“Cyran didn’t seem too sweet on him. I told him to keep him, but I may change my mind yet.” The need for vengeance still coursed through me. I walked through the study, about to head back up to bed, before turning to the candle and blowing it out. Rainier gently grabbed my hand as I passed. I turned to face him, the moonlight from the window shining in on his face.

“Stay, Em.” His voice was quiet and rough, dark with desire or something like it. I couldn’t miss the pleading tone. Did he not remember why I was angry in the first place? That nothing we’d said or discussed since had done anything to change how I felt?

“No.”

He looked down and dropped my hand. “Why?”

I sighed and stared at him, showing as much ire as possible. “You have a wife who will want to kill me. I don’t want to give her a reason.”

“She isnotmy wife. She will notbemy wife.”

“Does she know that?” I crossed my arms and nodded when he didn’t reply. By the time he finally spoke, I’d already left the room and was halfway to the stairs.

“You’re awfully upset for someone who only wanted a distraction, Em.” I paused, blood boiling. I was too tired to think of something to snipe back at him, so I slowly made my way upstairs in silence.

The next morning, we readied to head out for Astana. The soldiers who had been severely injured in the tírrúil attack were going to stay behind with the wagon to rest for a few days and escort Nana to the capital, leaving a week after us. It would give the soldiers a chance to get their strength back. I checked on them again, sparing some of my divinity for the more seriously wounded, and they seemed to be healing as best as could be expected. I was most worried about the man whose stomach I’d had to put back in, hoping there was no infection beneath the skin, but if his guffaw at my concern was any indication, he seemed to be doing fine.

Rainier and I told Dewalt, Lavenia, and Mairin about my interaction with Prince Cyran the night before. All three were skeptical about the verity of the interaction, but we both pointed out that we had nothing else to go on. I hoped to get more information the next time, such as where they were holding her. After our discussion, we all dispersed, heading to our separate last-minute tasks, and I carefully skirted Rainier’s hand, which he’d attempted to rest on my lower back. I needed to be very careful. As much as I craved him—his comfort, his smile, his strength—I couldn’t let myself fall into this with him again. He was a means to an end, and I didn’t trust him. His purpose was to find Elora. I’d let myself depend on him to keep me going without breaking, and it had been a mistake. It was clear to me that path wasn’t something that would ever work for us. This was something I needed to accept, should have accepted after all this time, and letting him steal moments with me was dangerous.

I walked over to Bree, who was already saddled and ready—my packs fit to burst on her. I’d grabbed a couple of outfits for Elora and packed them—that’s how hopeful I was. My old sword belt was on my hips, worn and frayed. Between my cloak and the belt, I knew I’d be needing to replace parts of my wardrobe. I realized early this morning that my cloak was not compatible with this trip. It was already tearing and threadbare in spots before I even knew Elora was gone. In the days since, the cloak had been damaged beyond repair. I took the opportunity to seek Mairin out and asked her if she happened to have an extra cloak lying around since we’d be going back past her house on our way west. She thought for a moment before she shook her head. I’d headed inside and was fruitlessly searching through the storage closet in the study when Dewalt came in.

“Need help?” He was quiet and seemed like maybe he was the one who needed help. Seeing him brought an idea to my mind.

“Actually, yes. And you’re exactly who I need to help me. Go get the ladder out of the stable and bring it upstairs.” He eyed me suspiciously but followed my directions as I left the study. When he came up a few minutes later I pointed to the attic access. He leveled a glare at me and reached up, sliding the panel across before shoving the ladder into it and climbing up.

“What am I getting?” He called down before letting out a tremendous sneeze as he walked to the back of the attic.

“Lucia’s trunk.” I heard his footsteps pause for a second before they resumed. A few moments later, I heard scraping, and the trunk was hovering over my head. I grabbed the handle and helped him bring it down to the ground. “Let’s take this in here.” I grabbed the handle again, and we took it into my bedroom and set it on top of my bed.

I hadn’t opened the trunk in a long time, since Elora was little and she’d wanted to see some of the fabulous dresses I’d described to her. I knew Lucia had a few cloaks in there for me to choose from, and I thought perhaps Dewalt would want to peek inside. Before I opened it, I turned to him. As soon as we brought the trunk in and set it down, he’d retreated, standing in the doorway of my room, looking uncertain.

“You don’t have to if you don’t—”

“I want to.” He took a few steps closer to the trunk and took a breath.

I opened it and was struck by just how much I had managed to shove in there as the different fabrics sprang to life, as if they’d been waiting for me. I started pulling out different dresses, mostly in warm tones; Lucia loved pinks, reds, and oranges. She also had a fair amount of white because of Myriad events. I knew what I sought was at the bottom, so I kept gingerly pulling out dresses one at a time, carefully watching Dewalt as discreetly as I could.

I pulled out one of her favorite dresses. It had two layers—a light pink layer underneath and a sheer white fabric on top of it, muting the pink. It was long and soft, one of her more casual gowns. The bodice had tiny white flowers embroidered through the sheer fabric into the pink underneath. The sleeves were made from the sheer fabric only, offering a see-through look to it. I heard Dewalt make a noise, and I could see his eyes glimmering.

“This is what she was wearing when I told her I loved her.”

I gently laid the dress down and slid my arm around his waist, leaning my head on his arm. Although we hadn’t talked about it, he had to know I’d overheard them. I hadn’t felt the need to speak to him about it and instead wanted him to only reach out to me if he wanted.

“It was her favorite dress.” I smiled as I offered the words. I wasn’t sure now if it was the dress itself or what was said to her while she wore it that made her love it. I waited a few moments before I turned back to the trunk, ready to bring more items out. “Do you—If you want the dress, you can have it.” It would mean more to him than it did to me. But he shook his head.

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