Page 103 of Between Despair and Hope

“Finally,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest before looking me up and down. “Where did you sleep? He told me not to wake…oh. Oh gods. Ick.”

I nearly laughed at her repulsion.

”Isleptupstairs. But, eventually, he’ll be alright again, and we’ll both sleep down here—permanently.”

She gave an exaggerated shudder before standing. “I know. It’s just strange. All of this is strange.”

She wore a long dress, dusty rose in color, cinching at her middle. Elora’s frame was narrow, slimmer than I’d ever been, and this dress highlighted the fact she indeed had a waist—tighter than she usually preferred. She’d pulled her curls back halfway, and I could actually see her eyelashes, which told me she’d darkened them with kohl. I was instantly suspicious.

“You look lovely. Is there any sort of occasion for it?”

“I’m sick of looking like a boy.” I laughed, not sure what she meant. “The only time I’m allowed out of the estate is to train with Dewalt and Theo, and I can’t wear dresses or look nice for that. I want to look pretty, and I want togosomewhere.”

Inhaling became difficult. “Elora,” I started.

“No, please, Mama. I’m losing my mind. I’m never going to get back to normal if I’m stuck here all the time. Please,” she said, hurrying across the room to me.

We still hadn’t talked about our time apart.

“Elora, I—”

“Thyra already said she’d escort me.” I raised a brow. “I knew you’d say no outright if I didn’t come up with a plan. I don’t even want to do much. I just—it’s just me here half the time. He—Rainier—is doing king things, and you’re busy healing people. And since you won’t let me go with you…” She trailed off.

Peering down at her, I tried to read her expression. I’d failed her once again. While my daughter had been at home alone, I’d been out healing people. I’d been by her side every hour for a week, drawing with her, reading with her, just being with her, but eventually she grew annoyed with me and asked for space. And I’d been having dreams of women dying in a fire, so I’d thought to channel some of that guilt into helping people with my healing. But it appeared I’d given her too much space.

“I’m sorry, Elora. I’ll be home more. I thought you wanted—”

“I did want space. Idowant space. I don’t know—I’m just feeling suffocated. I thought it was you, and that’s why I told you to back off. But I still feel like this. I think…“ She tugged on her earlobe. “Cyran used to go into town with me. He took me into Evenmoor while I was staying there. I think I’ve changed too much. I’m not just a child anymore. I want to go do things. Be a person.” I nodded slowly, thinking it over. “Rainier said it was alright with him if it was alright with you. Especially after I told him Thyra already agreed to it.”

“You asked Rainier?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, he’s—I need his permission too, don’t I?”

My chest somehow tightened and expanded at the same time.

“Well, where do you want to go?”

Her face lit up. “I need books here, and Rainier mentioned a line of credit?”

I laughed, folding her into my arms. “Let me get dressed, and I’ll go with you?Not,“ I blurted, “to escort you. That’s Thyra’s job. But I’d like to spend the day with you before I check on my patients. If you’ll have me?”

“I’d love that, Mama.”

Curled up on a comfortable sofa in a back room of the giant bookstore, my daughter and I read the books we’d picked out for one another, her head in my lap as she stretched out. A fire roared in the grate beside us, warm after our short trek through the snow. It hadn’t slowed down since the morning, and I wondered if we’d be snowed in tonight. She was nearly halfway done with the book I’d chosen for her, a story about a girl trapped in a tower by an evil king. I knew she’d like it; the girl ended up escaping and falling in love with a shifter on her way to her home kingdom. A romantic, my daughter.

The tome she’d picked for me was a collection of elven stories. They reminded me of a darker version of the story collection of elvish princesses and humans turned into frogs which sat on a shelf back at home in Brambleton. I was reading a short story about the elf king who had grown so old the blood which had once run golden in his veins had turned black. Though they’d all been dead for centuries, it was known elf-blood was made of something precious, part of why they’d been hunted and killed to extinction. Though powerful from the earth magick they possessed, the elves eventually lost their battle. I wondered if black blood was only a myth or if it was true. In the story, King Wuehlnar had to be put down by his seven sons, much too evil to submit on his own. But that wasn’t the case for most elves. Most let themselves fade without fighting their eventual deaths.

I glanced down after finishing the story before moving onto the next, and I noticed Elora carefully wipe her face free of a tear.

“Honey?” I asked, gently running my hand down her arm.

“I miss him,” she whispered. “I know I shouldn’t but…I do.”

Not quite certain of who she was speaking about, I dragged my fingers up to her hair and started lightly massaging her scalp. “That’s alright, Elora. You can miss whoever you want.”

She sat up abruptly, turning so she was next to me.

“Did he hate me?” Still not sure if she spoke of Faxon or Cyran, I just tilted my head to look at her, not wanting to ask and upset her. “Papa,” she clarified. “He—I know I’m not his, but Iwashis. Does that make sense?”

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