Page 82 of The Flame and the Forsaken

“This must be weird for ye, after all ye heard about Erran’s last visit. But if I thought there was anyrealtrouble to be had, I wouldnae have invited him or you.”

“Oh, we don’t... have to talk about this.”

“Aye, but we do. May not be my business in other times or places, but it’s mine here. Erran’s an emotional lad. Not something I understand leastways, but he doesnae understand me much either. He’s always needed time with stuff, and I expect it’s why his impulsiveness last time was such a disaster. If he’d had time to think on it, it would never have happened at all.”

“Khallum.” Mariel didn’t know what to say. Leaving a conversation initiated by her host—who was also the lord of the entire Southerlands—would be rude. “I won’t... You can expect no trouble from me while we’re here.”

“Or them,” Khallum stated, a resoluteness underscoring the words. “Gwyn and Korah will be by your rooms around dusk to help ye get... all prettied up for the banquet tonight.” He waved his hands as if discussing some rare magic he could never understand. “Not that ye need it.”

She could tell he was being polite, rather than flirting, so she smiled. “I’ll take all the help I can get.”

“Aye, well you’ll have more than you’ll want.” He chuckled. “One more thing, then I’ll leave it be. Guardians know why Erran was infatuated with my sister for as long as he was. She wasnae as lovely as she seems now, trust me on that, nor was she exactlyniceto the lad. Strung him about for years. It would be a shame for jealousy to ruin what seems far more durable than two bairns messing about ever was. Ye ken?”

Mariel nodded, wondering how often Khallum offered advice to others, and if so, if he was as clumsy with it as he was acting then. But she had no qualms with him or his intentions, which were steeped in loyalty for his best mate.

Khallum slapped his knees and stood. “As I said, good to have ye here, Mariel. Always welcome.”

“Thank you, Khallum.”

She waited for him to leave and then decided she was no longer interested in her tea.

Mariel set her mug on the nearest table and headed for the shore, where she could be alone with her thoughts and no men would deign to offer unasked-for advice about how she was supposed to feel about her husband still being in love with his enchanting ex.

Erran askedeveryone he saw if they’d seen Mariel. A few said no, and a couple gave vague but incorrect suggestions, but the most useful piece of information was when someone said she was seen heading to the beach, alone. As soon as he heard it, it seemed the most likely answer, because he, too, felt a calling for the tide lapping over his feet. The sand between his toes. A reminder that who he’d been on Feck-All Island was who he could still be.

His failures only kept adding. The desperate sex he’d engaged her in had just confused her more. When she thought he was asleep, she’d slipped out to the balcony and quietly wept. Disgrace had kept him fixed to the bed, with the shame of knowing that if he had caused her sadness, he had no right to alleviate it.

He did know that if he didn’t make it right soon, she would slip away from him altogether. If that happened, he wasn’t confident anything he did would bring her back.

Erran had just stepped into the field of seagrass when a familiar voice called his name.

“Can we talk?”

Once, the sound had stopped time for him. The trill of her imaginative cursing had been a delightful gift, even when the cursing was aimed at him.

He turned, prepared to say no, but her grave expression stayed him. “Is something wrong?”

Yesenia nodded. “Aye, I ken there is, and I’d like us to clear the air. Put it behind us so we can all enjoy the celebration tonight.”

Erran glanced down the shore. He didn’t see Mariel, but he couldn’t see much of anything through the dense brush and low fog. “Can we do this later? I need to find Mariel.”

“It willnae take long.”

He sighed through his teeth.

“Please?”

Erran nodded because he recognized the old determination in her. She rarely relented when she had her mind set. “I only have a minute.”

“Our old spot?”

Their old spot. The cove. Where a key era in his life had started, thrived, and ended. “That seems unwise, given our history.”

“And private.”

“There’s plenty of privacy inside the keep. Why not there?”

“Because I have a husband who may be feeling like your wife, and no one ever goes to the cove except us. I’d like to resolve this without more eyes on us, if possible. We had more than enough on us yesterday, and I’d ken your first night here was as cool as mine.”

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