Page 29 of Amidst the Insidious Courts
I shrug. She’s been here with me all evening but was recently joined by the others, who’ve chosen to stay for a while after delivering their reports.
Caed is with Kitarni, and Florian is alive. Drystan listened to the full details, not even pretending he wasn’t eavesdropping. His jaw clenched when Maeve confirmed that Caed and the high priestess are headed to Pavellen, and the news of the cousins defending Kitarni and Bram against an opportunistic band of Fomorian raiders earned a scoff of disbelief.
Biting my lip, I wonder how the rest of my Guard will react when he tells them the news. Kitarni is putting my Fomorian Guard directly in the path of my fever. Despite the news that Caed agreed to take the sleeping potion, I doubt any of my other mates will be pleased with her plan.
“He doesn’t listen to me,” I finally mumble under my breath. “I barely know where I stand with him…”
“He also has excellent hearing,” Maeve mouths, as my exasperation causes the volume of my words to climb once more.
My head falls back to thump against the stone. “He says he wants to help ‘service’ me, like I’m some duty to be endured, and then brings up all of these terms I’ve never thought of. Then he gets mad at Lore for doing the thing he didn’t even want to—”
Titania places a finger over my lips, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows in Drystan’s direction. The fae’s hands have stopped moving, his head canting to one side as he forgets to pretend he’s not eavesdropping.
Ugh.
I shove to my feet, my shawl falling to the ground as I abandon the fire. My guides follow closely.
“Rhoswyn.”
“I’m not going far!” I say abruptly, spine stiffening under the weight of his judgement. “I just need a walk. Alone.”
A slight pause. “I was going to tell you to take your cloak. A storm is coming in from the north.”
My posture softens slightly, and I stoop to pick up the cloak in question, hugging it around myself as I stride towards the treeline.
“Tell me how this works,” I beg my grandmothers the second we’re alone. “Tell me how I’m supposed to get through this when everything is so awkward, and we’re in such a huge rush, and there are so many obstacles between me and them. Drystan can’t even look at me. Bree is fundamentallynotready for sex. What Lore wants…” I trail off, thinking of how his earlier words made me feel. “What Lore wants scares me, but I can’t figure out if it scares me because I’m scared of the things he described, or I’m scared to want them.”
That’s half the problem. I don’t trust my own mind, and my body is turning against me.
“Spar with me.” I turn to face Maeve, who’s been listening in uncharacteristic silence to my rant. “Right now. I want to learn to fight. No more dodging.”
My grandmother—the fiercest warrior queen the fae have ever known—frowns at me, shoving her red braids out of her face as she shakes her head. “No, kid. You’re not in any state for that. Your body is under enough stress as it is.”
Jaw dropping, because I expected her, of all people, to support me in this, I look to the other two for support, but they shake their heads.
“She’s right, dear heart.” Titania tries to put an arm around my shoulders, but without drawing on the Goddess’s magic, all she achieves is giving me a slight chill. “Even the most experienced warriors don’t train in the lead up to their fever. You shouldn’t even really be travelling.”
I deflate. “I want to do something useful. I’m fed up with being a burden.”
Maeve offers me a small, sorry smile. “After your fever, I’ll put your ass through all the training you want. Right now, pick a different problem to focus on.”
Which one?I grouch, before shrugging off my hopelessness. They’re right. One of the few good things about having so many problems is that I shouldn’t be lacking things to do.
“My aura,” I decide, settling on the stump of a long-ago-fallen tree. “I’ve been working at it for days, so why can’t I see it?”
The three of them share a glance. “Your power is different to the Lord of the Wild Hunt,” Mab murmurs, leaning against a nearby beech. “It stands to reason the methods which work for him may not work for you.”
“It’s likely that Jaromir was right,” Titania adds. “You’re probably subconsciously blocking it to protect yourself. That’s why you can see others’ auras but not your own.”
“Well, how do I unblock it!?” I shrug her intangible arm away. “He said I have to be able to see it to control it.”
“Do you?” Mab asks. “You have other senses. Reach out with them.”
“Oh.” I cant my head to one side.
If Drystan has always been able to see auras, it makes sense that would be the way he learned to hide his. I can’t see mine, thanks to this speculative block, but what if I can use a different sense? I’m not sure I want to start sniffing myself on the off chance that I can scent my own aura, but…
What does an aura feel like?
