Eliza dug into her bread and stew, listening to the various chatter. Incoming goods. Passing thoughts on the brewing unrest with the mortal lands. New trade agreements with…the Earth Court?
That had her spoon pausing halfway to her mouth. There had long been tension between the two Courts. It had been exasperated by Sorin’s feud with Talwyn, but the turmoil between Fire and Earth predated Sorin and Azrael. She didn’t even know when it had fully started or how, only that both Courts continued to feed it. Her own history hadn’t helped matters.
But new agreements? That would mean Bastien was working with Tarek and that couldn’t mean anything good.
She didn’t hear anything else about it, but there were mentions of more and more seraphs appearing in their towns. Solembra, Aelyndee, and Threlarion in particular. The three largest cities in the Fire Court. There was division, it seemed, as to the fate of the Inner Court. Some still believed Sorin was dead and the rest of them had fled. Some believed the “silver-haired female” that had been seen briefly in Solembra was responsible for all of this. Still others said they were waiting for the opportune moment to strike back, while others said they’d all left like cowards, Sorin included.
Eliza tried not to let it affect her, but when it was again muttered that “maybe the Fire Royal and his most-trusted had never truly cared for their Court,” she was ready to go. She didn’t bother finishing her meal. She muttered something about the bathing room to Razik, but instead, she slipped out onto the street, needing some air.
She tipped her head back, breathing in deep. A seraph passed by overhead, and the sound of footsteps had her turning to her left. A group of warriors—hergodsdamn warriors—were ambling along, far too inebriated for this time of the day. She was choking down the feral growl in her throat as she forced herself to turn away to avoid being seen.
And she turned right into a hard wall of muscle.
“Gods,” she gasped, Razik’s hand landing on her waist to steady her. “Why are you standing so close?” Then she noticed the large bag in his hand. “What is that?”
“You hardly ate anything,” he said. “It is late afternoon. Let’s find an inn. You can eat properly and rest before tomorrow.”
“You have enough reserves?” she asked, wondering what food he’d ordered to bring with them. It smelled like roast beef and bread and— “Did you get chocolate cake?”
She couldn’t see his face beneath his hood when he said, “I am not going to draw from you when you are to fight for your lands tomorrow. I’ve hardly used my magic since refilling it days ago.” He stepped to the side, nudging her down the street. “There was an inn down the way.”
“Not that one,” she muttered, shoving him lightly in the other direction.
“My mistake, Milady.”
She rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see it and directed him towards an inn closer to the Tana. It would certainly be pricier, but if she was spending the night in the Fire Court, she wanted to see the Twilight Wildfires tonight.
Ten minutes later, Razik was unlocking the door to their room (of course, he only got one room) and ushering her through. She’d insisted on a room facing the river, and when she saw he’d gotten one that not only faced the river but had a small balcony as well, her chest did the exact thing she didn’t want it to do.
It tightened, and her stomach flipped, and that godsdamn bond sparked to life, her flames swirling in excitement.
There was a small table and two chairs set near the balcony doors, and Razik was there, setting the bag of food down after he’d placed their packs near the small armoire. There was an attached bathing room with a privy and a small tub that Eliza would scarcely fit into, let alone Razik. That was fine. They’d bathed that morning before they’d left Siofra, and it’s not as if they’d done anything straining aside from the short walk to Lightmere.
Eliza pushed her hood back, undoing her cloak and looping it over a chair. Razik immediately picked it up and hung it on a hook near the door. She always forgot how tidy he was.
She was emerging from the bathing room where she’d changed into more casual attire and taken her hair out of her braid, when there was a knock on the door. Razik answered it, and a moment later, he turned back to her with a bottle of wine and two glasses.
“I don’t drink the night before a mission,” she said with a slight frown as he moved back to the table.
“Great. This is for me,” he answered.
“Really? With two glasses?” she replied dubiously while he uncorked the wine and poured a glass.
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings by only getting one.”
She clicked her tongue, finally unpacking the bag of food. Razik had been using his magic to keep everything warm, and she devoured the roast and bread before pulling out what was indeed a slice of chocolate cake. She hadn’t even noticed the small cheese tray that Razik was eating cubes off of. She took her cake out onto the balcony. The sun was dipping low, and she knew the fires would start any moment.
Leaning on the balcony railing, she was halfway through her cake when the sizzling rush of the wildfires reached her moments before the flames zipped along the surface of the water. The Tana seals leapt among them, and the wildfires bathed the land around it in a soft glow she had missed. It was odd. She’d seen these fires nearly every day for decades, had taken them for granted. But watching them now made her think of the first time she’d seen them. Alone and scared out of her godsdamn mind before Sorin’s people found her.
She watched the wildfires until her cake was gone. She knew it was a risk to spend too much time out here, and she turned to head back in, only to find Razik leaning in the doorway, his wine glass dangling in his fingers.
“Your homeland is beautiful,” he said softly, the wildfires reflecting in his sapphire eyes.
“Do you remember much of Noidrir?”
He beckoned for her to come through the doorway, and he closed the doors behind her, drawing the curtains closed. He’d poured the other glass of wine and left it sitting on the table, and she swiped it up. One glass wouldn’t hurt.
Plopping down into a chair, she sipped on the wine as Razik took the other chair. He’d cleaned up the rest of the table, because of course he had. The only thing remaining out was the small platter of cheeses.