Page 76 of The Flame and the Forsaken

The crowd opened up, and Khallum rushed forward to crush Erran in a warm embrace. “Mate, fecking hell, next time ye crave adventure, just come with me to a Blackpool brothel.” Khallum surprised him with a firm kiss on the temple. “Donnae ye scare me like that again, aye?”

Erran nodded through the unexpected clog of emotion. A shove from behind reminded him to keep moving. Sessaly. He glanced back and saw Mariel had somehow fallen back, behind Destin. He wanted to urge her to his side, but then Gwyn was kissing his cheeks, lifting her little dark-haired lassie for him to kiss as well.

“Welcome to the world, Esmerelda. I don’t take the role of being your father-in-honor with lightness,” he said, eyeing the sweet girl with the big, expressive eyes. Unlike Ransom, who took after his rough-featured father, Esmerelda would be a great beauty one day. “Thank the Guardians she resembles you, Gwyn.”

“The Northerlands always comes through, one way or another,” she quipped, and they both laughed. The king hadn’t known it, or even cared, but he’d picked the perfect bride for Khallum. Women of the frozen north were tough and practical, like the women of the Southerlands, but had ice flowing through their veins. She knew good and well what her husband was up to, and she had more important worries to concern herself with.

Aunt Korah was next. Even Erran had always called her that, though sometimes, when being cheeky, Khallum referred to her as the Widow. She’d moved into the keep when Khoulter’s wife had died, and she had helped raised all three Warwick children. Korah had also been the mastermind behind Erran’s match with Mariel, springing into quick action to conspire with Rylahn when Erran had acted so foolishly.

“How fortunate you’re already married, for with that lovely face, I’d have to rethink my policy of a man-less existence.” She embraced him with a chuckle. “And how is wedded life, Erran? We chose for ye well?”

“Yes, well. Thank you,” he said, instinctively searching for Mariel, but she was talking with Khallum.

“Do you remember my stepson, Evander?” She gestured toward a handsome redhead around the age of thirty.

Erran vaguely recalled that her late husband had produced a son out of wedlock, but he did not remember Korah being so gracious about it. “Aye. It’s been...”

“Donnae trouble yourself. We’ve never actually met. She didnae suffer me at all until recently.” Evander raised both brows and chuckled.

Erran’s eyes shifted back to Korah, but she was laughing too. “Aye, well, we are well met now.”

“Aye indeed.”

Next was young Ransom, hand held fast to his governess’s. Erran knelt to greet him, amazed at how much the lad had grown since he’d seen him last.

Erran had only just stood again when he came face-to-face with Yesenia. Her tree-dweller husband hovered close, like he was ready to draw steel at the slightest infraction.Not likely to do much with it though, is he?he thought as he sized him up, remembering what a dove the man was.

“Yesenia.” He leaned in to offer a hug but thought better of it, then withdrew his hand as well, wondering how stupid he must look to everyone watching. She was radiant, somehow even more than when he’d seen her last. She glowed with the confidence of a woman settled into her life as a wife and mother. Muted, but not gone, was the fire that had once compelled her every word and action.

“Erran.” Yesenia’s face split in a smile that brought him back to long mornings in the cove, mornings as exciting as they had been frustrating, for all the ways she pushed him to come no further to her than her pleasure. “You remember my husband?”

Erran cleared his throat with a hard grunt. “Corin.” The man radiated with threatless warning as they exchanged handshakes, his hands surprisingly soft for a man’s. “Good to see you both.”

“Mhm,” Corin said.

“We only got in this morning ourselves,” she said, glancing between them with the tension of a woman readying to stop a fight. Erran wondered if he should prepare for one. “We left Torquil with Corin’s mother. He’s still a bit young for a long trip like this.”

Yes, she was changed. Even her accent was softening.

“And Byrne? Is he coming?”

“Nay.” Yesenia’s face fell. “Asherley will be delivering any day now, and he didnae wish to leave her side. He seems happy, and that’s all I ever wanted for him.”

“Aye.” Erran smiled, remembering how Yesenia had taken down bully after bully in her little brother’s name. In the end, only the Garricks had had the balls and stupidity to go after the poor, sweet boy.

“And your wife? Mariel, is it?”

Erran’s belly stung with shame at how quickly he’d forgotten Mariel. He looked over and caught her watching them. In her eyes was something he wished he could unsee. “Would you like to meet her?”

“Seems I will soon enough,” Yesenia said pleasantly, nodding at Sessaly’s impatience. “We’ll catch up later?”

“Aye.” His voice cracked. “Aye.”

Erran stepped out of the greeting line and joined his parents in a daze. As he watched Mariel finish her own place in line, alone, he was confronted with another failure, and they hadn’t even gone inside yet.

“You’ll need to do better,” Rylahn said, almost under his breath. “If not for the family name, consider your wife’s feelings. She should not have to see her husband fawn over his childhood love, and so publicly.”

“I didn’tfawnover her. I was polite. I said hello to her and her husband, asked after her brother, and that was that.”

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