Page 32 of Ties of Shadow

“Not today, he can’t,” Uncle Koll muttered. “Not when he is partially b—”

“Uncle.”The Shade glared at him.

“—that is, beat down from exerting all of his magic,” Uncle Koll finished. I frowned, tilting my head as my gaze flicked between them.

“Sit. Both of you.”

I shouldn’t have felt so frightened by someone half my weight, but something about the flint in his gaze and the butcher knife in his hand had me sitting immediately. The Shade rested his elbows beside me before he reached into a cabinet underneath and grabbed a small bottle. It was a lovely, familiar pink hue. He passed it to Uncle Koll, who took a quick drink.

“Ray, the berries!” Uncle Koll shouted.

Ray, a large fluffy, something—“Honey badger,” the Shade said inside my mind—rude but helpful—bustled out of what must have been a pantry, dragging a basket behind him. He pushed it up to the Shade, who grasped the handle and set it before us. I reached forward for the cutting board and knife to help with the preparation, but before I could reach either, a spatula tapped on my hand.

“Ah-ah. My kitchen now.” Uncle Koll turned and poured cubes of venison into a boiling soup pot. “I got this. But Lady Aelia, won’t you be so kind as to tell us about yourself.”

The words started slowly, but as Uncle Koll bustled around, chopping the herbs, I was reminded so much of Chef that my shoulders relaxed, and the words fell more easily. I spoke of her, of the staff, of my father, of the potions.

“You seem close to Chef.” Uncle Koll commented idly as he minced garlic.

“I am. I…was.” I squirmed in my chair. “When she came to the castle and saw me… floundering, she kind of took me under her wing. Though she wasn’t a lady, she taught me what I needed to know so as not to embarrass the king… king regent…at his table. My father could only teach so much.”

Uncle Koll dumped some vegetables into the pot. “And were you close to your mother?”

“My mother and I were two peas in a pod. When she died, my father almost did too, cursed by their soulbond.” The men shared a look. “I remember flashes from when we were together. Happy moments, until she got sick.”

“It’s not fair when a life ends too soon.” Uncle Koll’s words caught in my throat, so I just nodded my agreement. “My Lydia and I were bonded.” He pulled out his arm, and around his elbow, a band of leaves and swirls wrapped like a light brown tattoo. I frowned at it, uncomfortable with his frank vulnerability. “She was a gift from the heavens, my other half. When she left this world, I wondered if she took the best part of me.”

I grimaced. “You must have been devastated.”

His sigh was heavy as he stirred the ladle. “I was for a time. And certainly, moments are just as painful as before, but they trigger less and less often as your heart expands, time passes, and new love enters.” He ruffled the Shade’s hair. “My next love was for a black-haired waifish boy who got in more mischief than he could handle.”

“Don’t you regret the bond?” I clamped my lips shut, regretting the words immediately. Who was I, and where did this unfiltered speech come from? “I mean. I’m sorry. That was rude.”

Uncle Koll smiled sadly, rubbing at his chest. “It certainly still hurts, at times. My heart will always have an ache for my Lydia. But all this grief is just love unshared. All the love that I have for her is now reflected in that memory—in the pain, certainly—but even more in the joyful memories of what was. This grief is a gift—the knowledge that she was here, and she mattered, and I loved her. I live every day trying to raise this young man in the way she would expect, and I work very hard to make her proud.”

“But you’ll never find that kind of love again…”

“Ha. Poppycock. I mean, perhaps the stars will only match me with Lydia, but you know as well as I how sometimes after a loss, a new bond can be formed. Not every marriage is a bond-match. Take the king and queen, for example, a love match, even if they weren’t bonded. Somehow the magic knows what we need. What I had with Lydia is special, but if the stars give me another love—bonded or not—that will be a gift as well. Love is not a piece of bread you cut smaller and smaller pieces from. It’s a living, growing thing that expands and changes as we grow and live our lives. There’s enough love in the world to expand to cover us all.”

I didn’t realize a tear had beaded on my lid until it dropped to my cheek. I hastily wiped it away with a pretend cough. How could this be? My mother died, and my father spared very little love for me after and would certainly never remarry. His whole existence was her, and as a result, he had become a shell of a human, sustained by his drink and his proud work.

But—my conscience sharply reminded me—of course, Queen Gemaline had nearly adopted me, even in her sick state. She hadwelcomed me in, combed my hair, listened to my rantings and ravings and smiled at me with such warmth. “I can perhaps see what you mean. The queen certainly demonstrated extraordinary kindness to me when we moved in. I do not presume to say she loved me, but I certainly began to love her. She already had a whole family and a whole people to love, but she let me in and cared for me as much as she could.”

Both men stopped moving when I mentioned the queen.

The Shade picked up a bread crumb and dropped it onto his plate. “And how is she?” His voice was low, and its huskiness made my brows pull together.

“I’m worried for her.” A tightness crawled up my throat, squeezing my chest. “I search and struggle to find what she needs for the potions, but it doesn’t seem as effective as it once was. She used to be able to walk the halls or attend the balls and sit with the king, but lately…” I shrugged. “It doesn’t help that I can’t find enough racerbristles.” My eyes slid to the Shade, and I couldn’t stop the heat from their glare. He could save her.

The Shade flicked the bread across the room. “And who is bringing her racerbristles now?”

Guilt blossomed beside the anger in my chest. I didn’t feel guilty, but he should. I blinked a few times to clear the weird sensation. “Likely a servant. Leon knew where a bush was.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat at the memory. “I’m sure someone has brought them.”

“Maybe we should make a deposit,” he murmured.

I fully turned in my seat. “A deposit?”

The Shade nodded as he started in on the fruit and Uncle Koll dropped off a plate of eggs and tomato. “You weren’t wrong. I do have plenty of racerbristles.”

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