Page 48 of The Curse Between Us

Edric gave him a wry smile, but there was something bittersweet in it. “You do not show it,” he said. “Is it the Eskarven ice in your veins that keeps you so cool and collected, my lord?”

“Perhaps.” Zephyr allowed himself a small smile in return. “But here, in this place, I feel some of the warmth of rage as well.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled his gloves back on, then placed a hand on Edric’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb gently over the tense muscles. “We entered into this marriage to bring an end to the war,” Zephyr said quietly. “To stand poised on the brink of another—” He trailed off, the weight of the words pressing on him.

“And one between forces we cannot know or understand.” Edric sighed, bringing his gloved hand up to rest on Zephyr’s. He gave him a rueful smile before letting his hand fall back to his side. “What have we done, Zephyr? What have we set in motion? The end of our world, or its salvation?”

“I do not know,” Zephyr admitted softly. “We have done what we judged to be right. As for the rest…” He glanced up at the blossoms above them, their delicate petals swaying in the breeze. “We will face it together.”

“Together,” Edric echoed quietly. Their gazes locked for a long moment, an emotion passing between them that Zephyr couldn’t quite name. Then, with a glance toward the othersgathered by the stream, Edric spoke again. “Not only you and I, though.”

Zephyr followed his gaze, a smile breaking across his face as he watched Eileen shove Ollie playfully, her laughter ringing out across the valley. Hadley and Clara were sitting by the stream, eyes closed in meditation as they tried to make sense of everything that had just been revealed.

Slowly, Zephyr removed his hand from Edric’s shoulder, the loss of contact sharp and sudden. Edric sighed, and a blossom from the tree, disturbed by his breath, drifted gently down to the grass at their feet. Zephyr’s throat tightened as he watched it fall, the delicate beauty of it haunting in its imperfection. He had to look away, the bittersweetness of the moment almost too much to bear.

Chapter Twelve

Since that first expedition into the new valley several weeks before, it had become a private refuge for Edric and Zephyr. On occasion, they were forced to share it with teams of researchers from their universities and libraries, but most days, it was theirs and theirs alone.

Today, Edric needed that peace, that solitude, that blossom-scented breeze stirring Zephyr’s dark hair as he gazed at Edric with his fathomless blue eyes. He rode out of the palace, not even pausing to thank the guards at the gate as they raised it to let him pass. He would chide himself for his unbecoming and frankly unkingly rudeness later.

The rough path that led eastward down through the mountains had smoothed out under constant wear these past weeks. It allowed Edric to maintain a good pace, but when he drew up his horse at the entrance to the valley, a quick glance confirmed that Zephyr had still managed to beat him here.

He was sprawled by the stream, face tilted up to the sky and eyes closed. Edric swung down from his horse and approached quietly, but when he was a few feet away, Zephyr opened his eyes and smiled up at him, showing neither alarm nor surprise at his presence.

“Hello, Edric.”

Edric dropped to the ground with a sigh, aching to lay his head in Zephyr’s lap, to feel his fingers comb soothingly through his hair. Of course, he did no such thing, instead maintaining acareful distance and propping his head on one elbow to look into his husband’s face.

Zephyr’s smile faded as he gazed back at Edric, a slight frown creasing his brow. “You’re upset.”

“I’ve just come from another council session,” Edric explained with a sigh. “Hadley, Alec, and Herbert have not given me a moment’s peace since we first visited here, since the priestesses first spoke of the prophecy.” He plucked at a blade of grass, tearing it to shreds, then immediately regretted destroying a piece of this place. Restless, he climbed back to his feet, pacing around the open meadow. “Does it hang as heavily over you as it does over me? Wondering if every move, every decision I make, is truly my own choice or determined by some ancient prediction?”

Zephyr remained where he was, a slight frown creasing his brow. “In some ways, yes. I do wonder. I want to believe our actions are our own, but I also know nothing is as simple as that. If we are truly a piece of this prophecy, if we are the ones who are meant to restore balance to our world--” He shrugged, looking away. “That is what frightens me. The possibility that we might fail.”

Noting the distress on his face, Edric crossed back over to his husband and laid down on the grass beside him. “We won’t,” he said. “I don’t know what it means, Zephyr. What our broken world being put together again can look like. But look around.” He waved a hand at the meadow, the stream burbling nearby. “We’ve already begun it, haven’t we? Our world is changing, and if Clara and Hadley are correct, it’s all because of us.”

“A heavy responsibility,” Zephyr murmured, though some of the tightness around his eyes began to ease.

“But one that we carry together.” Reaching out, Edric laid his gloved hand on Zephyr’s shoulder. “I hate that there isnothing we can do except wait. Alec and Herbert are making plans, attempting to foresee every eventuality, consulting with Hadley as to what she imagines might be coming. But all their theories will drive me mad.”

Zephyr laughed, laying his own hand over Edric’s. “I can only imagine. You would much prefer the simplicity of a battlefield, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” Edric admitted. “Somehow, I doubt that is the test that lies before us.”

“As do I,” Zephyr said softly.

The conversation faltered, but the quiet was not an uncomfortable one. Edric could hear the birds calling to one another from the treetops, the splashing of the waterfall, the steady and familiar sound of Zephyr’s breathing. The stress and tension slowly melted from his body as he laid there, eyes slipping closed. This place was a miracle, and even if it did foreshadow dire events to come, Edric could not help but marvel that he had had a hand in creating it.

“Tell me something good,” he said without opening his eyes. “How are matters at home?”

He could hear the smile in Zephyr’s voice as he replied. “Good, for the most part. Clara is pleased about the increase in devotees at the temple, these past weeks, and when Clara is happy, the rest of the kingdom generally follows.”

Edric could only imagine. “And at the palace? How are Wilfred and Pierce?”

“Exactly as they always are.” Zephyr laughed. “Pierce has had a portrait of himself commissioned, wearing the regent’s diadem. He claims he’ll need it as proof that he once held power in the land, when he’s old and his memory begins to fade. Personally, I think it’s pure vanity on his part, but I’m sure it will be striking when it is finished.”

Edric grinned, imagining that conversation. For all his eccentricities, he liked Pierce, and he had proven himself quite capable during the time Zephyr was away. If he wanted a portrait of himself in testament to his time as regent, Edric would not judge him for it.

“Perhaps we ought to commission one of our own,” he said. “In full ceremonial dress, severe and pompous, with a map of our joined lands spread on the table before us.”

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