Page 38 of Between Fear and Favor

“Ass,” she grated out, but I watched her lips twist as she fought back a smile. Lips that I’d never felt with mine in person, but imagined to be quite plush and warm. Gods, how unfair it was that she was so pretty. It made my plan to disappear and forget about all of this that much harder.

If I were to be an exiled king, it seemed a requirement to long for my kingdom—not a girl, no matter how fixating she was.

“They say lightning can’t strike in the same place twice. Besides, we are the likely targets of such an assault, andwe won’t be here.” Elora leaned closer, conspiratorially, and I held my breath so as not to allow myself to be bewitched by her scent.

“And why Brambleton, then,min viltasma?” Gods, I couldn’t help myself. She blushed, and I reveled in it.

“I want—no,” she cut herself off, “needto go to Theo’s house.”

I waited for her to elaborate. Her grief was so different from my own that I was afraid to say anything. It was as if she was a trap, simply waiting to be sprung. I refused to walk into it. My own sadness regarding my sister was like a dark cloud over me—it might storm or it might not, but there was no danger in it.

“I just want to make sure he’s...there.”

The trip through the tunnel had been long, dark, and solemn. With Theo’s body strapped over the back of Thyra’s mount, haunting our footsteps, Elora hadn’t spoken a word. The soldier had separated from us as soon as we reached Crown Cottage.

“Do you have any doubts that Thyra did as she was supposed to? I’m sure she wouldn’t lie.”

“I just need to go, Cy. Please don’t make me go alone.”

“All right,” I said, without further hesitation. My only goal was to keep Elora safe, and I had thought the way to do that was to stay away. But if she was so determined to traipse off alone, perhaps I needed to stay by her side. Elora beamed at me, and reached over to squeeze my hand. Her fingertips were callused and marked with charcoal. She had never let me see her drawings, and I hoped that I’d be able to before I left her for good.

Truthfully, I wasn’t shocked I’d given in so quickly. With Elora, my willfulness melted, and her desires somehow became my own. Sure, I could tell Thyra about Elora’s plan, but I didn’t want to send her into a fit of rage either. If Elora got mad enough with me, it could have adverse effects on her health, I reasoned. It only made sense to accompany her.

I repeated my justifications to myself throughout the day. Long through my research with Reminy, during dinner when Elora slid me a glass of wine she’d snuck from the cellars, and later, when I retired to my chambers and stared at the ceiling. I wasn’t being selfish—wanting to steal as much time with her as possible before my inevitable departure—I was being practical.

And well past midnight, when Elora knocked on my chamber door, I told myself this wasn’t for my benefit, but for her protection.

“I supposeI don’t know what I expected.”

Lit only by the moon, Elora appeared ethereal. She’d braided her hair into a crown upon her head, minimizing its bright appearance in the dark. She’d wanted to wear a cap, but I’d been unable to contain my snort of laughter when I’d seen her. It wasn’t my fault she looked like the caretaker’s little boy. I’d asked how she convinced him to let her borrow his cap, and she’d flicked my ear in retaliation. With brown trousers she probably borrowed from Princess Lavenia’s chamber and a dark grey shirt, she was unassuming. If her hair hadn’t been the color of midnight snow, she might have looked ordinary.

But there was nothing ordinary about Elora Vestana.

She knelt over the freshly dug grave where Thyra had laid Theo to rest. There was no marker yet, but I’d overheard the woman and Reminy discussing it. Emmeline had put her in charge, and the soldier had gone to Brambleton to procure a stone with his name etched on it. For now, wilted blooms laid atop his grave, likely plucked from nearby wildflowers.

“I never thought the eternal lands were real,” Elora whispered.

“After my mother died, I convinced myself they were.” I crouched beside her, wishing there was some way I could comfort her without shattering my resolve. I was going to get away from her as fast as I could. It was the only way I knew to keep her safe. “The alternative wasn’t a pleasant thought.”

“Well, the gods proved themselves to be real with Mama. So, I suppose the eternal lands are likely real as well. Do you think they can hear us? The ones we’ve lost?”

“I hope not,” I blurted, sitting back on my heels as Elora turned her frown upon me. She waited for an explanation, and I was entirely too quick to give it. I trusted Elora far too much and let my guard down around her. My idiocy clearly knew no bounds. “I’ve told my mother quite embarrassing things since she’s been dead. If she actually heard them? Dreadful. I could never show my face there.”

Elora smiled, though the action seemed painful. “I think she’d just be happy to see you, Cy. And sad, I suppose. You’ll be dead when she sees you next.”

“Now it’s my turn to say I should have expected this.”

“Expected what?” she asked, before settling down against an ancient oak whose roots entwined with the dead.

“Well, a midnight jaunt to a cemetery certainly calls for such morbid topics. But, somehow, I expected lighter conversation.”

She exhaled a laugh. “At least he wasn’t placed in a crypt. My grandparents and aunt are entombed near Ravemont. Rain—I mean...Otya—told me about it. Well, I suppose only my grandfather is actually there.”

I’d heard about what the king had discovered in the Highclere crypt. Elora’s grandmother was never there to start, and Lucia’s tomb had been robbed. I could understand finding the crypt unsettling, and I was very glad Theo’s family didn’t have one.

“I think I’ve had enough of speaking of the dead,min viltasma.”

She bit her lip and tilted her head down. When her eyes met mine, hooded by long, white eyelashes, my heart nearly stopped. “Perhaps we could discuss the fragility of life? A much lighter topic, in my opinion.”

---