Page 44 of Between Fear and Favor

It felt wrong. It felt like everything inside should have been in disarray. I ran my fingertip along the dusty shelf which held our bowls and plates—each stacked as normal.

I fought the urge to smash them on the ground.

The sound of Cyran’s footsteps was the only deterrent to that demented impulse. Hand trailing up the bannister, he quickly loped up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” I demanded, suddenly mortified over my stupid idea to bring him here. “Don’t go into my room!”

Running after him, I stumbled up the stairs in the dark. Rounding the corner, I realized I was too late. Cy’s silhouette darkened my doorway, and I sighed.

“The dollhouse is old. I don’t...I haven’t played with dolls in a long time. I should have gotten rid of it, but?—”

“I know. Faxon made it for you,” Cyran replied.

“How do you—” I started, before remembering. It was unfair how much Cy had learned about me from my dreams while I’d been trapped within them. But, try as I might, I couldn’t view it as a violation. Because of Cyran’s perseverance within my subconscious, he’d been able to wake me.

I wouldn’t allow myself to think about how he’d done it.

“Your mind is stunning,” he breathed as he stepped into the room. “It’s exactly as you dreamt it.”

Why did his words fill me with confidence? He’d only complimented my memory, and it wasn’t as if I could help that. Or could I?

“I pay attention to detail,” I said, suddenly feeling sheepish. “During winter, there is little to do but read and draw.”

He took a deep breath, slowly turning to face me. It was disorienting for him to be here. Cyran, with his finery and regal disposition, didn’t belong in our run-down cabin. He walked toward the window, trailing his fingertips over my dresser. The contents of my jewelry box clinked beneath his touch.

Noticing my messy bedding, I side-stepped Cy, tugging my blanket up before turning to my nightstand. I held my fingertip to the wick of my candle, allowing it to slowly heat until it caught flame. “We shouldn’t linger. We have a long ride before dawn.”

“I remember this bracelet,” he said, picking up the string of delicate glass beads. I wrapped my hand around my wrist, hoping he didn’t notice the one he’d given me was nowhere in sight. I’d left it behind in Astana.

“Put it down,” I said, fearful he might break it. “Theo made it for me.”

Cyran made a thoughtful noise. “I wondered about that. In all your dreams, you never wore it.” He held the jewelry closer to his face to inspect it. “Gods, he loved you, didn’t he?”

“It was a birthday gift,” I snapped. “I saved and bought him something nice for his too,” I lied. I’d been ashamed when I realized how much work Theo had traded to the glassblower in Brambleton to make the tiny beads. All I’d done for his birthday was bake him a cake that didn’t even taste very good. “Why would you say that? The bracelet might have been expensive, but?—”

“The beads are the exact shade of your eyes,min viltasma. Your mind might be brilliant enough for that level of detail, but for everyone else? Only truly important things leave such an impression.”

“Well, you know the exact shade too, so I wouldn’t look into it too much.”

I regretted the words immediately. Hehadtold me he loved me, and I’d insulted him moments later. To be fair, he’d been willing to die to hold off his brother, and I had only wished for him to listen to me. Still, though, there was a reason we hadn’t spoken of it. When he only gave me a soft smile, ears turning pink at their tips, I wished I could disappear.

He chuckled. “I’m told there’s an empty tomb at Ravemont. Perhaps we could go there on our way to Crown Cottage, and you can let me die of embarrassment there instead of under your watchful gaze.”

I snorted, thankful for the change in subject. “I didn’t know they called her Martyr Lucia. It’s strange to think my mother’s twin was important enough to mean so much to so many people. Enough to steal her skull, for gods’ sake!”

It was as if time slowed, and I stared in horror as Cyran dropped the bracelet. It slipped right out of his hands, and slammed to the floor. I shouted as half the beads shattered on impact while the rest rolled away from the broken string. The room lit up with the glow from my eyes, and Cyran’s pupils shrank to two tiny pinpricks as he stared at me with an open mouth.

“I told you to put it down!” I shouted, falling to my knees to try to collect the intact beads. “What iswrongwith you?”

A shriek of frustration bubbled up my throat, and I ignored the sharp pain in my knee as a tiny shard of glass embedded into my skin.

“I’m sorry,” he began, but my frustrated groan silenced him immediately. “Elora, I didn’t mean?—”

“Be quiet, you idiot!” I yelled. When he jumped at the noise, regret burrowed deep into my stomach. “I told you to put it down, and you didn’t listen.”

“I didn’t mean to?—”

But I stopped listening to him as I picked up the remaining beads and ran downstairs. I wanted to put them on a thread so I could take them with me. Perhaps I could make a necklace out of them. I knew it was an accident, that Cy hadn’t meant to drop them, but Theo was gone. The bracelet had been irreplaceable, just as Theo had been.

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