Page 10 of Hallowed Games

Sunlight streamed through apple trees, and tables had been laid among the graves with cherry tarts, sweet buns, and spiced cakes. The scent made my mouth water, and I guided Leo over to one of the tables.

“How much are we allowed to have?” he whispered.

“As much as you like. Eat it all.” It was on the Baron’s tab.

I picked up a cherry tart and bit into it, the sourness and sweetness delighting my tongue. And just as I’d taken an enormous bite, the bride and groom crossed outside. Lydia looked positively glowing. I quickly swallowed my bite.

I smiled at her and mouthed, “Congratulations.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, pure ice.

So, she hadn’t wanted me here. Of course she didn’t really want Anselm’s former lover at her wedding. Turning away from her, I left Leo by the table of cakes, wandering further into the cemetery. With a lump in my throat, I crossed around the temple. Sunlight dappled the raised, grassy earth. More comfortable among the dead here than it was lingering around Lydia and Anselm.

My gaze trailed over the old carvings of skulls on the graves, some with ancient Tyrenian text. The temple itself probably dated back over a thousand years, back to when the Tyrenian emperors ruled the island. And before it was a temple for the Archon, it might have served the Old Gods.

Yew trees arched over me.

“Elowen.” The familiar, gravelly voice made my heart race.

I swallowed hard, and I turned to see Anselm. My stomach swooped at the sight of him. Sunlight streamed through the trees, dappling his hair with flecks of gold.

My mouth went completely dry. “Congratulations.”

“I didn’t think you’d come. I’d hoped you would.”

I shrugged. “We were all best friends once.” At those words, a jolt of sadness pierced me. “I couldn’t miss it. Anyway, you look beautiful together.”

His eyes shone. “Elowen, I waited for you as long as I could.”

Oh, heavens above. What was he doing? “I know, Anselm. I’m glad you moved on. We couldn’t be together. Now you’re with someone who won’t hurt you, and I’m happy for you.” Was I happy for him? I didn’t know. I was so used to playing a part with the Baron, of feeding him the right lines, that I could hardly remember what I actually felt anymore.

Sorrow shone in Anselm’s eyes. “You know I never gave a fig that you were common, or that the Serpent cursed you. I would have kept waiting if I thought there was a chance.”

Regret pierced me as I turned over what he was saying. Had I made the wrong choice? What if I’d simply taken the risk, run off with Anselm, and lived a chaste married life of separate beds? What if we’d looked after Leo together? “You’re married, Anselm. It’s too late now.” I was reminding myself as much as I was reminding him.

“It was always you.”

To my horror, I caught a glimpse of Lydia stalking up behind him. I held out my hand to caution him. “Anselm, now is not the—”

“It was never the right time to speak, according to you,” he said.

Panic started to rise, and I raised a finger to my lips. My eyes darted behind him in a warning as Lydia approached. “Your wife is—”

“I never stopped thinking about you.” His voice rose and broke.

My heartbeat faltered. Lydia stood behind him, her cheeks reddening. Tears sprung into her eyes.

At last, Anselm noticed his wife. He turned slowly toward her. “Lydia,” he said softly.

“On our wedding day?” Her pale skin had turned splotchy. “Can I remind you that she nearly killed you, Anselm? And who was it who saved you when her curse poisoned you? Her magic is the work of the Serpent. You should have seen how you looked. Like a corpse. I thought you were dead.” Tears clung to her pale eyelashes. “I was the one who healed you. Anselm, you wouldn’t be here without me. Do you still want what kills you?”

“I know, Lydia. Of course.”

Coming to this wedding was one of the poorest decisions I had ever made.

She turned to me, blinking tears out of her eyes. “I was always in your shadow when it came to him. You didn’t even have a dowry, but it didn’t matter. You always shone like the North Star to him. I thought with your curse, things would change. But sometimes, I wondered if when he kissed me with his eyes closed, he was thinking of you. So. Now, on my wedding day, I think I know. It was always you. The little gardener’s child. The witch.”

Oh, Archon. I shook my head, at a loss for words. “No,” I started to say, at the same time Anselm said, “Of course not.” But I wasn’t sure he sounded genuine.

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