Page 162 of Between Despair and Hope

“I’m—”

“Gods,” he exclaimed. “My wife. Truly, I never thought I’d say that phrase about anyone, let alone you.”

“Now who is off topic?”

He slid an arm around me. After we took leave of my father, we had meandered our way around the estate, finding ourselves in the drawing room. We’d sat beside one another on a chaise and hadn’t moved since. It was soft, and though we’d slept comfortably enough the night before, the hard ground hadn’t done us any favors.

“Ah yes, where were we? My mother.” I made a sound in my throat, and he shook with laughter. “She cleared out a room for me. I added to it over time—whenever we visited. I think you’d like it.”

“She cleaned out a room? I don’t understand. You had rooms there.”

“You should let me take you. We can rift right in. I’ve been there recently enough.”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to see where she died.”

“We won’t,” he assured me. “I promise.”

“Fine, we can go after dinner. But I have a place I’d like to stop first.”

“Oh, gods,” I groaned, hands on my knees as I sent healing divinity into my aching joints. “That was stupid.”

Rain chuckled from somewhere above me, moonlight streaming down behind him, casting his face in shadow. “It wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve seen you do. Your knees aren’t made for that jump anymore.”

“Clearly,” I snapped, and his laugh brought a smile to my face. Wanting to see if I could coax the light under my skin as I had the night before, I closed my eyes and inhaled. I tried for a few moments and only managed to conjure the divine fire in my palm. Ever since we’d been in the cavern, my divinity had settled almost, nearly back to how it felt before the Cascade. I could tell there was something lingering deep though, Hanwen’s vast power waiting for me to awaken it. Giving up, I started for the back of the wine cellar.

“White or red?” I called out.

“No preference. Whatever you want.”

I didn’t think he’d ever liked wine that much, not like his sister. Pulling a sweet, fruity wine off the shelf, I released a plume of dust into the air. When I sneezed, my fire went out, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Regretting sneaking now, Em?”

“Is it even sneaking?”

“Not with all the noise you’re making, no,” he said. Fighting a grin, I opened a rift and shoved the bottle of wine at him, and he chuckled. “Didn’t want to climb the ladder like old times?”

“I wasn’t sure my knees could take it,” I replied, and he took my hand, dragging me toward the hall. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“You’ll see.”

He headed toward the northwest corner of the estate, away from the grounds I wanted to avoid.

“How many staff are here?” I whispered.

“Just two. They’re new.”

“Mister Handry is gone?”

“Died a few years ago. His nephew is the caretaker, actually. We don’t keep a full staff when we’re gone, of course. The new Mister Handry and his wife and two boys live in the guest rooms. Your rooms.” He squeezed my hand as he slowed his gait to walk beside me.

“That’s good. I only had happy memories in the guest suite. It should stay that way.”

We continued along in silence, and I smiled when I realized my muscles remembered this place. Without a hint of moonlight getting into the interior hall, I knew we were just past the library, and I had a suspicion about where he was taking me. We needn’t bother to keep quiet, the guest rooms on the other side of the estate, but we still moved with silent grace.

When we reached the steps of the tower, Rain nudged me forward to lead the rest of the way up. I assumed his mother must have done something with the storage room we traipsed through regularly to get to the balcony where we once watched the stars. Surprised he’d told his mother about it, I was even more shocked when I opened the door. Tapestries lined the walls, and they had brought in furniture and rugs. Rain lit a lamp behind me, and low light filled the room. The furniture was covered with sheets to protect them from dust, and Rain moved past me, uncovering a sofa in the center of the room.

“Our chaise!” I exclaimed, rushing over. It had once rested in his bedroom, and I’d snoozed on it with my feet in his lap more times than was proper. Plopping down on it, the cushions were as soft as I remembered, and I traced my fingertip over the dark gold filigree design.

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