Page 26 of Ira

“Just let me carry it,” Verner all but pleaded, sitting on the other side of the border, looking helpless. “You’ve done it all yourself so far, Meera. Let me do this one thing.”

I looked around at the rows upon rows of empty garden beds that I’d cleared over the past few weeks, and felt proud of myself in a way that I never had before. Of course, I’d accomplished things in my human-realm life—like my doula training, and the first baby I’d helped bring into the world, and so on—but this was a slightly different feeling.

This had cost me blood, sweat, and tears and now it was done. Nothing was growing yet, but I’d gotten everything ready with my own two hands and some serious determination.

And Verner, secretly sneaking in whenever I wasn’t looking to pull out the bigger, heavier plants and making them magically disappear.

If Astrid still lived here, he’d have never gotten away with it, but she was long gone now.

“I’ve got this,” I insisted, dragging the heavy shrub thing by its roots along the path. Whatever I left just outside the border always magically disappeared too—I wasn’t sure whether that was Verner’s doing or if the palace had assigned some helpful Shades to dispose of it for us.

“I’ll just dart across and do it. No one is around.”

I shot Verner a scandalized look. “And here I was, thinking you were an upstanding citizen.”

“I am,” he replied, pained. “But watching you struggle is an acute kind of torture, Meera. Just leave it there—perhaps it will grow lighter overnight and you can move it tomorrow.”

I snorted. “It won’t be here if I leave it overnight. Anything even moderately heavy that I might have to lift seems to vanish into thin air as soon as night falls.”

He looked me dead in the eye, bold as brass. “Well, that’s very convenient, isn’t it? Thank the gods for that.”

I tossed a stick at him before resuming my huffing and puffing, moving the shrub—maybe it was a small tree?—a few more inches before giving up and heading over to sit with him.

“What does Hunter sweat smell like?” I asked, lying back on the ground. Fortunately, I was already gross and covered with dirt, so what was a little more seasoning at this point?

“You’ve smelled better,” Verner replied diplomatically, lying down next to me, and mock wincing as I nudged his leg with my foot. “Though you’ve also smelled much,muchworse. Sweaty and happy is a vast improvement over clean and sad.”

I let out a proper cackle laugh at that—the kind that only the true inner circle, which had only ever consisted of my sister in the past—got to hear.

“Noted. I’ll bathe less.”

“Very considerate of you.” Verner turned his head toward me and grinned, showing off a row of sharp fangs. The very first time I’d seen that smile, I’d found it a little alarming. Now it was one of my favorite sights each day. He inhaled deeply, really taking in the reek. “You’re very happy today, Meera.”

“I am,” I agreed, feeling my face heat. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m done clearing the garden beds. I checked in with Selene this morning, and her pregnancy is going well. Verity seems really happy with the duke. And it’s my favorite time of day—when we have lunch together.”

Verner hummed happily. “It’s my favorite time of day too. Though, I’ve run out of ojurac for you again, I’ll make another trip home on my day off.”

“You really don’t have to, you know,” I insisted. “Especially if you don’t enjoy the visits.”

“It’s not that I don’t like them… I suppose it’s complicated.” Verner was quiet for a long moment, the mood shifting in an instant. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk about, but there isn’t really anyone I can speak about it with. And I didn’t want to burden you with my problems when you’re already going through so much—”

“Verner,” I gasped, outraged. Or perhaps guilty—had I not made him feel safe enough to share things with me? I hadn’t meant for our friendship to be so one-sided. “It’s not aburden. We’re friends! You can always talk to me.”

He briefly touched my hand, and I felt oddly disappointed when he pulled away again.

“You’re right. I think I knew that deep down.” Verner sighed heavily, sounding more world-weary than I’d ever heard himsound. “It’s a forbidden subject—both at home and in the realm at large, given my father’s authority and his ability to dictate how his family is perceived.”

I waited silently for him to say more, not having the first clue about where he was going with this.

“I had a sister.”

“Ah,” I breathed, unease settling heavily in my gut. For the most part, Shades were pretty hardy. They didn’t perish of disease or in accidents the way humans did—so long as they had access to power, they could heal from most anything.

But they could be killed by a silver blade, and they were especially susceptible to that when they were in their vulnerable human-realm forms. If a Shade died young, that was usually the reason why.

“She was killed on a trip to the human realm to feed.” I nodded, wanting to reach for Verner’s hand but unsure if he’d welcome it. “We weren’t close. She was twenty years older than me. The true firstborn. The true heir to Sunlis. In truth, she wasn’t the most pleasant company. Aside from our difference in age, we just never particularly liked each other.”

He grimaced, shooting me a wary look as though worried I’d judge him for saying those words out loud.

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