Page 44 of All the Pain of Promises
Drake could move between shadows. He was like a wraith, undetectable until it was too late.
They raised their glasses again, knocking them together once more before downing the fiery contents.
“Who?” Solarius asked, not at all expecting a response from the impassive god.
Drake’s eyes darkened.
“Your mother.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Despite the pale glow of morning sunlight streaming in through the cottage’s window, Narissa knew the other side of the bed would be cold.
Solarius had not returned.
She thought for certain he would come back before dawn. She’d woken up multiple times during the night, stretching one arm out just to see, only to grasp nothing. His half of the bed remained empty. A tiny part of her hoped he would be asleep on the sofa in the cozy living area, but she knew she wouldn’t find him there. The bond quickly diminished that small glimmer of optimism—he was gone.
Truth be told, she was not entirely sure she wanted to know where he spent the night. She didn’t want to think about whose arms he may have stumbled into, or dwell upon what sort of circumstances might have found him.
Sighing but choosing not to despair, Narissa climbed out of bed and carefully considered her options. She could explore the cottage, which admittedly would not take long and seemed like the more uninspiring choice, or she could muster up a pluck of bravery and venture into Galefell alone.
The decision made itself, and Narissa chose a gown of heavy teal silk with sapphire lace overlay along the hem. Iridescent crystals in the shape of flowing waves embellished the waist and the modest bodice was complete with sheer long sleeves that draped off her shoulders. Nude stockings reached the top of her thighs, and she paired them with shiny black boots. Not ideal for trekking through snow-covered streets, but at least they looked pretty. She adorned her fingers with multiple gold rings—some thin and delicate, others decorated with turquoise gems—and grabbed some gold hoops as well as a necklace made from rainbow-hued seashells.
Narissa moved through the deafening stillness of the cottage, careful not to make too much noise, as though one sound from her would disturb the already painful quiet.
Her gaze betrayed her, darting to the plush sofa positioned across from the roaring hearth. It was empty, no strewn blankets, not a pillow out of place.
Narissa tugged on her wool overcoat, fastening the buttons slowly, glancing at the main entrance after each one.
She knew there was a servant or two assigned to their cottage at Windsong, but Narissa was beginning to think they were invisible. Either that, or they’d made themselves scarce after her and Solarius’s argument last night. Not that it mattered, she doubted they were much for conversation. Most of the servants at House Azurvend acted as though she didn’t exist or were always startled to discover she was in the room with them. Over the years, they had become quite adept at ignoring her.
Which was fine, she reminded herself.
This was nothing she was not already accustomed to overcoming. Loneliness suited her just fine.
Narissa would hire a coach to bring her to Galefell’s city center, and while she was there, she would shop around for some flowers and herbs not often found in Azurvend. She wouldnot replay that harrowing night where Calfair used her for one of his revolting schemes. If she thought on it too much, her subconscious would scream at her for being a fool, because surely she would have noticed how Calfair hadn’t kissed her, how the way he carried himself was nothing at all like Solarius, how his touch was all wrong. So no, she would not worry that her eyes were still puffy from too many tears and lack of sleep. And she certainly would not dread the fact that her husband had not yet returned to her.
She would hold her head high.
She would face whatever storm she was forced to weather.
And if she purchased a few leaves of nightfern, then so be it.
By the timethe mid-morning sun kissed the glistening rooftops of the alluring floating isle of Galefell, Narissa found herself tucked inside a welcoming cafe nestled against a wall of luminous ivory roses with a steaming cup of orange clove tea. She treated herself to a delicious cherry tart—a pastry of crisp, flaky dough filled with sweetened cherry cream and topped with a drizzle of melted chocolate. The cafe was the exact sort of place where she felt most comfortable. It exuded warmth with its pastel papered walls and blooming silver vines.
She absently stirred her tea, admiring the way the golden liquid glimmered like stardust, when two shadows fell across her table.
Narissa glanced up to find two females gazing down at her, one with a smile bright enough to put the sun to shame, and the other who looked as though she’d bitten into a particularlysour lemon. She recognized the one with the smile as Lady Aria Skyhelm, Calfair’s younger sister, and though she did not know the name of her surly companion, there was something oddly familiar about her.
Lady Aria was absolutely stunning, and the polar opposite of her elder brother. Her flawless bronze skin glowed with ethereal beauty, kohl and golden powder lined her rich amber eyes, and her shiny black hair was swept up into an intricate style of curls and braids so that it was piled high then tumbled over one shoulder. The gown she wore looked as though it had been crafted from the sunrise. Gold bound the strapless bodice and waist as long layers of blush, peach, cream, and the palest blue rippled around her. A cloak of white fur was pinned at her neck and when she tilted her head to one side, the diamonds cascading down her pointed ears twinkled in the morning sunlight.
“May we join you?” Lady Aria asked, her smile never faltering.
“Of course.” Narissa gestured to the empty seats across from her as pinpricks of uncertainty needled along her spine. She was not accustomed to anyone ever asking to be in her company willingly. Then again, it was a rare occasion when she was actually noticed.
Lady Aria slid into the high-back chair with practiced ease, her movements sleek and graceful. While the female accompanying her remained austere and excessively prim, as though her spine was made of steel.
“You’re Lady Narissa Seaborne, are you not?” Lady Aria’s sultry voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.
