Page 46 of A Court of Bones & Sorrow

Samara

“This is magical, Leora,”I groaned around a mouthful of tart berry deliciousness. After spending a couple of hours beneath the Fae tree, pillaging the journals for any other bit of information, I’d been in desperate need of a break and something sweet. “I think you’re one of the gods in those old Fae stories. That’s the only rational explanation.”

Leora huffed a laugh and waved off my compliment. I’d missed both her and her delicious baked goods while I’d been at House Laurent. The Moroi who ran the kitchen staff there weren’t nearly as friendly nor as talented.

“Agreed,” Nora said from where she sat across from me at the small table tucked into the corner of the kitchen. She worked in the gardens with her husband and had been taking a break when I’d stumbled into the kitchen, following the scent of freshly baked goodies. The young, pretty Moroi eyed the plate filled with the spring berry pastries. “I think I need one more to get the taste of that tea out of my mouth.”

I nudged the plate towards her. “You definitely do.” I flashed her a look of sympathy as her lip curled at the now empty teacup resting next to the pastries. The spelled brewprevented pregnancy. It lasted until we had our cycle, and then it had to be taken again. Apparently, our human ancestors had gone through their cycle every month. When we’d become Moroi, that had changed to every four months, and our bleeding only lasted for two or three days.

Unfortunately, those two or three days were absolute agony. I had no idea if the monthly cycle of the humans had been as bad as ours was. If it had been . . . then the humans who had gone through it had been tougher than we gave them credit for.

The tea was an old Fae spell that for some reason worked for us too. It tasted absolutely vile, like milk that had gone sour, and it coated your tongue and throat, the taste lingering long after. Nora had slammed the tea back in several gulps and then powered through three pastries. I didn’t blame her at all. My cycle was due in the next few weeks, and I was very much not looking forward to it.

“So you and Floran aren’t going to try for a little one now that you’re an old married couple?” I teased Nora, and she blushed faintly. While our cycle was painful, the week that followed was also . . . intense. It was jokingly referred to as the mating frenzy. Couples tended to hide away for days at a time, and single Moroi would often find someone, or several someones, to shack up with. The tea would prevent pregnancy but did nothing to lessen our lust-addled minds.

“No plans for any young ones yet.” Nora smiled, and the blush deepened across her cheeks. I was about to tease her again when her smile faded and a crease formed in her brows. She picked at the corner of her pastry as her eyes flicked to mine hesitantly. “We’ve heard the rumors about the outposts . . . about some of them falling to wraiths. I know Lunaria is never technically safe, but it feels a little more volatile right now. We both agreed now isn’t a good time to bring a child into it.”

Shit. It had only been a matter of time before rumors started spreading about outposts being wiped out by wraiths, but since most of the ones that had been targeted were more remote, I’d really been hoping we’d have at least another couple of months before it became common knowledge.

“I can’t say I disagree with your assessment,” I said quietly. Leora continued humming to herself as she alternated between kneading dough and checking the bread baking in the brick oven. I knew she could hear every word we said, but I also knew she would keep it to herself. Leora was happy to gossip about harmless things, but she’d never repeat anything serious, especially if it came from me. “Would you mind sharing how you heard about the attacks? The Sovereign House has been trying to keep it quiet.”

Nora paled at the mention of the Sovereign House. “I haven’t told anyone,” she said quickly and then winced. “Other than mentioning it to you just now.”

“It’s fine,” I assured her. “Personally, I have mixed feelings about keeping this information from the remaining outposts, but I can’t go against the Sovereign House. So I’m trying to solve the issue as quickly as possible, but if people start to panic . . .”

“I don’t think many people know.” Nora twisted the end of her long, blonde braid in her fingers. “Floran’s older brother is a tracker. He was training to be a ranger, but it didn’t work out. There was a girl he was sweet on at one of the outposts that was . . .” She swallowed. “He went to check on her one day and found the outpost empty and some rangers investigating. They didn’t give him the specifics, but wraiths were mentioned. I don’t think he’s told anyone else, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t.” Nora’s breathing quickened, and I reached out and laid my hand over hers.

“It’s okay, Nora. It’d be a good idea to let him know that,simply so he doesn’t run afoul of the Sovereign House, but neither of you did anything wrong.”

“Okay.” She smiled weakly.

“We’ll figure this out, I promise.” I removed my hand from hers and tapped the rim of the empty teacup. “And then you can skip drinking this tea for a little while. If that’s what the two of you want of course.”

She laughed. “Floran wants to have six kids. I thought we could start with one and see how it goes.”

“You always were the wiser one,” I said, drawing a laugh out of Leora as she plopped a plate of muffins down in front of us.

“I knew I’d find you here as soon as I caught wind of the freshly baked deliciousness.” Kieran breezed into the kitchen and kissed Leora on the cheek and then Nora before pulling up a chair beside me and grabbing one of the berry muffins. Alaric followed a second later and nodded at Leora and Nora but opted to stand awkwardly a few feet away from us. “A certain cranky scholar would like to see you. They’re in the library.”

My eyes darted to Nora, who grinned and grabbed a muffin as she rose. “I’ll leave the three of you to your scheming.”

Alaric watched her go before sliding into her seat, then his eyes briefly flicked to mine before falling back to a spot on the table midway between us. I glanced at Kieran, who just shook his head and rolled his eyes. So he hadn’t had any luck convincing Alaric to drink either. Wonderful. Alaric was cranky and difficult on a good day. I somehow doubted he’d be more pleasant when he was running low on magic and refusing to do anything about it.

Argh.

“Where’s Draven?” I asked quietly.

“He’s with Yolanthe,” Alaric answered, still not looking atme. “I met with him earlier. He’s probably going to look for you as soon as he’s done. Something seemed to be bothering him earlier—he was distracted, which is unlike him.”

Probably because he thought I was sleeping with Vail. Another lie I’d have to maintain. Speaking of . . . might as well get that out of the way.

“He’s just being pissy because I spent last night with Vail.” Something slammed into the wood counter behind us, and I looked over to find Leora gawking at me, her discarded rolling pin halfway across the surface. “Apparently, the prince doesn’t like the idea of sharing with the Marshal.”

“That makes two of us,” Kieran muttered, drawing my attention away from Leora’s surprised face. Alaric was staring at me intently, his full mouth flattened into a hard line, but he didn’t voice any objections.

It annoyed me that he didn’t, and then it bothered me further that I cared what he thought.

“It’s not real,” I said quietly as Leora took a few steps closer to us, abandoning her dough as she sent me a questioning look. “But Draven needs to believe it for now.”

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