Page 33 of The Divine Shallows
Sylas had takenit upon himself to chaperone the two Fangwright sisters for the Second Day. While it bothered Elowyn, Elyria seemed unfazed by his presence. Throughout their time in the Bloodweaver castle, Sylas followed their every step, which Elowyn found inconvenient. However, if he was offering himself for their disposal, she decided to seize the opportunity to ask him some lingering questions.
“So, Sylas, did you grow up in the inner walls?” Elowyn prodded.
“Yes, I come from a noble family entrusted with overseeing many essential trade affairs of the Iron Hollows. They serve the Bloodweaver family as high treasurers of sorts,” Sylas replied willingly.
“I see,” Elowyn nodded. “So, you’ve known the Bloodweavers your entire life?”
“I grew up alongside Thomys and Theo. They’re almost like brothers to me—our dynamic certainly feels that way. Thomys, the eldest, is wise and sensible. I’m in the middle, often overlooked and excluded,” he chuckled. “And then there’s Theo, indulged and rebellious.”
Elyria’s eyes widened at the remark about the second born prince, but Elowyn simply joined in with a snicker.
“Now that’s a classic trope,” Elowyn retorted loudly, tapping her finger against her chin. “Theo certainlyisindulgent and rebellious, all right.”
Sylas’ expression turned serious. “I would take caution when saying that aloud, princess. While I tease, our relationship borders on that of brothers... and even that is tenuous. He has only ever tolerated such comments from Lyra, but that’s a thing of the past. Since their separation, it’s changed him.”
“Who’s Lyra?” Elowyn asked, her curiosity stirred.
“She’s my younger sister… Years ago, Lyra became enamored with Theo despite all my objections. They were inseparable for a while. He charmed his way into her bed and her heart, but he never reciprocated the feelings.” Sylas’ voice was slightly bitter.
“I remember one day Lyra came home in tears. When I asked what happened, she told me that Theo suddenly flew into a rage for no apparent reason. He just snapped. He spewed hateful slurs at her and declared he wanted nothing to do with her again. He even threatened to have her exiled from the Iron Hollows.” Sylas rubbed his temples as if trying to ease a headache. “Despite everything, Lyra still loves him. She loved him with all her heart. Even after what he did, she hasn’t stopped trying to win him back, and it breaks my heart.”
“Goddess, and he couldn’t even offer a reason? Rather juvenile,” Elowyn scoffed, her disbelief evident.
Elyria glanced around uncomfortably, her eyes scanning for any eavesdropping courtiers. Speaking openly about royalty could lead to trouble. She swiftly changed the subject with a delicate question, “Sylas, how manyanimusreside in the Iron Hollows?”
Turning to Elyria, Sylas’ brow furrows softened, and he offered her a warm smile. “There are three: King Wilden’s, Queen Irena’s, and now, Prince Thomys’.”
“Hopefully, soon to be four,” Elyria remarked gently. “Once you claim one in the Trial this season.”
Sylas’ cheeks flushed crimson, and Elowyn couldn’t blame him. She would have been blushing too if someone as captivating as Elyria had subtly complimented her.
“I couldn’t help but notice that Queen Irena’s and Prince Thomys’animusare, well, more moderately sized,” Elowyn stumbled, trying to phrase it delicately. “Is there a reason for that?”
“Well, Queen Irena’s basilisk may appear willowy, but I fear it a thousand times more than King Wilden’s. Even a drop of its venom could prove fatal to a fey a hundred times over... And its temperament is simply atrocious,” Sylas grimaced. “On the other hand, King Wilden’s basilisk can constrict and compress a creature with lethal force. It would be a reality borne of nightmares to be strangled into smithereens by that russet serpent.” Sylas shuddered at the thought. “As for Thomys, I haven’t had the chance to speak with him since his return, so I’m not entirely familiar with hisanimus’capabilities.”
“I have,” a lively voice bloomed from behind them.
Elowyn turned to see who it was, locking eyes with an angelic fey. She had rich mahogany curls that flowed down her back in rivulets. Her skin was deeply tan, while freckles dotted her nose and the apples of her cheeks. Lastly, her eyes were a piercing sea-green that seemed almost otherworldly.
“Hisanimusis quite fascinating. Apparently, his basilisk can transiently duplicate herself. Although, she needs to lay a clutch of eggs and hatch them, Thomys claims he can control the clones with just his thoughts. He can see what they see, hear what they hear, taste what they taste,” her enchanting voice elaborated.
Turning to her, Sylas inclined his head. “Hello, Lyra. Allow me to introduce you to the princesses of Eriden, Princess Elyria and Princess Elowyn Fangwright.” He gestured towards the silver-eyed sisters.
Lyra curtsied and nodded to them. “I’m Sylas’ sister, Lyra Fenhart. It’s lovely to meet both of you.”
“Your dress is stunning,” Elyria complimented with a soft smile.Lyra returned the gesture, her eyes lingering briefly on Elyria’s palms before refocusing her attention to the three of them again.
“It seems like you know more about the Iron Kingdom than Sylas does. Maybe we should have you give us a tour instead,” Elowyn suggested.
“I know many things about the Iron Kingdom, but sometimes the things I want to know most about evade me.” Lyra chucked with morose as her sea-green eyes flickered to somewhere else in the room.
Elowyn sensed a longing emanating from Lyra’s aura, nearly tangible in its intensity. She almost felt sorry for her, but quickly reminded herself that any affection directed towards Theo didn't quite warrant her sympathy.
Turning to Lyra, Elowyn asked, “Would you mind showing me around? I feel like the candidates already have important matters to attend to besides a castle tour, especially with the preparations for the Favor of the Seven.”
Elyria shot her sister a curious glance, silently questioning her decision. Elowyn responded with a reassuring look, conveying her certainty. They had perfected the art of communicating through glances and raised eyebrows long ago.
In truth, Elowyn had no desire to spend the evening in Sylas’ company; he’d likely bore her to tears. Elyria, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy his presence. Why not leave them to it?
