Page 20 of Between Despair and Hope

“Divine hell, Dewalt. Really?” She sounded so tired, and though she startled me at that moment, her weariness weighed heavily on me.

“Sorry.” I shrugged, smiling at her. “It’s not like she knows what I’m saying, anyway.” It was the wrong thing to say. I hadn’t meant it in a way to upset her, but as I turned toward her, I saw her shoulders drop. She made the slightest sound in the back of her throat, and it broke my gods damned heart. “I didn’t mean it. She’s going to—” She stopped me with her hand, a slash through the air which cut. I felt horrible. She turned away, shrugging her cloak off onto a chair. Based on her rosy cheeks and the damp fabric, I assumed she’d just been outside. I approached her, bringing the book with me to put away.

“Listen, I am not a smart man. If I could shove my foot any deeper into my mouth, it’d shoot out my ass.” She snorted despite herself, glowering up at me. There she was. I rested my hand on her shoulder, proving my sincerity. “I do think she can hear me, by the way. She didn’t like it when I was reading about Nulo and Rhia falling in love through dreams. She tossed and turned, moved more than I’ve ever seen her.”

Those big, blue eyes were full of tears and hope. Fuck. She nodded and blinked hard, her lower lip quivering, before she pulled away from me. “Thank you. I’m sure dinner will be ready soon. Thanks for sitting with her. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“How about I have dinner with you here?” I knew she hadn’t been eating. When she gave me a noncommittal shrug and headed toward the bathing suite, I knew she didn’t want me to stay.

Too damn bad.

When she shut the door behind her, I sat down at the small dining table in the other half of the suite and bided my time. I had to show her it wasn’t hopeless. Elora was improving each day, and I was still optimistic the council would come up with something better than exchanging the boy. I heard Emma’s outburst this morning, but I wondered if I could persuade her into seeing that trading Cyran might be our only choice. Declan’s original deadline was in a week. I knew it had to be weighing heavily on Emma, and I was worried she might do something desperate. Or worse yet, do exactly as she said she would and deliver herself to Declan.

I wasn’t sure when Thyra would be back. Gods, I was grateful for that woman. The friendship she and Emma seemed to share before Rainier was taken was something I found fascinating. It was rare for someone to stomach a situation such as that. But, not only did Emma stomach it, she befriended the woman. I respected the hell out of her for it; I knew I wouldn’t be so understanding. I wondered if the two of them ever discussed it, or if it was just an unspoken agreement that none of it mattered. Thyra knew her place, knew she wanted nothing from her prince—now king. It had been over a decade by now. And Emma, well, Emma knew where she stood with him—even if it took her far too long to come to that conclusion. Stubborn as a mule, that woman. Thyra had been a much-needed comfort to her these past weeks while Ven and Mairin were busy. Besides that, when either of them had any free time, they were spending it together. I didn’t have any extra responsibilities. Everyone else was too busy for Emma, other than Thyra, and she’d been bearing the weight of it more than me. It was my turn now.

A few moments later, the door opened. Emma froze in the doorway, carrying her hairbrush and wearing fresh clothes—comfortable pants and a thick sweater I thought belonged to Rainier.

“Are you not going to eat?” She scowled at me, and I took heart in the familiar expression.

“I’m thinking of having it brought up here. Mine and yours.” I folded my hands in my lap, certain she was going to get angry.

“D, go. I’m fine.” She peeked her head into the bedroom to check on Elora while she angrily pulled her brush through her long, golden-brown locks. It was often I thanked the gods her hair was that color, rather than white. I leaned back farther into the chair and crossed my ankle over my knee. I’d get her to talk to me, even if it was to tell me just how long it would take her to skin me alive. “Gods damn it, Dewalt. What do you want?”

“You’re not sleeping, you’re not eating, you’re not talking.” She stood in the doorway to the bedroom, her hand on the knob to pull it shut. I’d sit here all night if I had to. Watching her frown deepen and her skin flush, I knew I was in trouble.

“I’m not sleeping because every time I start to,” she said, “she moves, she sighs, she twitches, and I’m awake. I’m not eating, because I’m not hungry. And I’m not talking because what the hell is there to possibly talk about?” Her voice grew louder with each word, and I sat patiently. “What do you want to talk about, Dewalt?” She nearly screeched the last sentence as she stomped closer to me.

“I want to talk about whatever you want to talk about, Emmeline.”

She stood over me, hands on her hips. “I have nothing to speak of. My husband is locked up in Darkhold, body parts about to get chopped off and sent to me unless I give Declan a gods damned child. My daughter died. Yes, I brought her back, but she still sleeps. And I’m just sitting here with a thumb up my ass, waiting for Shivani, of all people, to do something. And she’s not going to, unless it involves sending the boy. And I don’t want that, so, it still has to be me.” She stared down at me for a couple of seconds before her blinking became rapid. I knew what was coming next, and she wouldn’t appreciate me witnessing it. She needed to talk—and I’d help it happen—but I knew she’d want to break down in private. So, I did what I do best.

“Why don’t you pull your thumb out and sit down and talk to me, and we can decide together what to do next? I think you’ll need your whole hand for whatever we come up with, though I’m sure Rainier will be glad to know you kept your ass ready—” When she swung out to punch me in the jaw, I grinned up at her as I caught her wrist.

Her eyes were glowing white.

Lucia’s eyes did that sometimes. Fuck. I felt my smile fall before I cleared my throat. “You have to talk to someone, and I’m here. Let me listen?” I let go of her hand and watched as her eyes faded back to their normal color, and she heaved out a long sigh. She sat down on the floor in front of the fire, her body slow and tired as she did it. I needed to get some food in her.

“Fine. I don’t know what you intend to get out of this. What am I supposed to do? I can’t take on Darkhold, even if I’m the gods damn Beloved. Oh, and there’s that! There’s so much other shit, the fact that I’m the Beloved didn’t even merit mentioning.” I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Shivani is his mother. You know better than anybody what she’s feeling. She won’t let him die.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. “I think we should force her hand. She’ll have to move the army if we refuse to trade either of you.”

“Dewalt, you know I can’t risk that. He’s too important.”

“I sure as fuck thought he would have convinced you of the same by now. They both need you.” She flinched, and I softened my voice. “You’re not sitting here doing nothing, alright? You’re doing your best with Elora. You’re healing her every single day, keeping her as healthy as you can. You and Cyran are infiltrating her dreams. She’s going to wake up eventually, and it’ll be because of one of those things. Besides, I think Rainier would be furious if I got to talk to his daughter before he did. Maybe she knows it, and she’s just waiting for him.” She gave me a weak smile before it twisted into a frown; I swiftly continued. “You brought Shivani the proof that Rainier went to Darkhold—as much proof as we could get. And as for the rest of it…I know you don’t want to, but do you think we should consider—”

“No, I’m not giving the boy to Declan. He’s a child. A stupid child, but—” She took a deep breath. “If I give him Cyran, who is to say he’ll even give Rain back to me? And if he doesn’t, then that’s just two dead men. Both of them are part of Elora’s life in some way, and I’m—no, I’m not doing that. The boy is helping her, and I’ll let her decide what to do with him when she wakes. What we are doing is making a difference.”

“Alright, I won’t ask again. But you can’t go, Emma.” She refused to look at me, and I knew what she was thinking. “I can’t let you go. He’d fucking kill me.” When she didn’t answer, I tried an alternate approach. “Have you heard from Aedwyn or Aerfen yet?” The spy shifters had been gone for weeks, and I had a bad feeling about it.

“No.” Her voice grew quiet. “I don’t know. What do I do, Dewalt?” Elbows propped up on her knees, she dropped her head in her hands. I wasn’t helping; I was making it worse.

“We take the guard to the Cascade. We can make sure we are in Darkhold next week. Fuck if I know a plan from there, but I’ll send a message to Raj tonight.”

“Dewalt, the guard is still recovering. Rainier wouldn’t want—”

“Honestly, fuck what he wants.” The words slipped out of me before I even thought them. I didn’t even know I’d been thinking them. She lifted her head and stared at me, mouth parting in surprise. Shit. “I just mean—”

“No, no. You’re right. Fuck what he wants.” She gave me a small smile, then shook her head. “That…Gods, I don’t want to say anything bad about him right now, because what if—I am just so angry with him, Dewalt.”

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