Page 124 of A Reign of Roses
It wasn’t the winter air that set my very bones on edge.
“And then, even worse than being unskilled or being unstable, I’m too scared to practice. So I’m a failure and acoward.”
“No, no,” I said, though I knew it was terribly unhelpful. I crawled across the floor and looped my arms around her neck, pulling her close.
“And I can’t tell Briar,” she said through her tears into my shoulder. “Because it’s her coven, too. I know she already knows. She’s holding back in our lessons. I can feel it.”
I didn’t know what to say that would help her. How to offer guidance on a system of beliefs she’d had about herself since childhood. Or what advice to offer on her magic and its origin, ominous or otherwise. “Will you please join us for dinner?” I said in the end. “I don’t think isolation is helping anything.”
“Really?” she sniffed. “I think it’s doing wonders.”
My lips twitched with a weak smile as I pulled Mari closer, feeling her tears slide down the back of my shirt, quiet as a prayer in the dead of night.
34
Arwen
Kane’s private dining quarters weresurely designed for hosting dignitaries, plotting conquests, or impressing royals with masterfully sliced garnishes, not ale spewed from Ryder’s nose in an uproarious fit of laughter—yet our motley group was absolutely defiling the stately room.
Hot buttered rum spilled across the polished wood as I reached for Kane’s arm in hysterics, gripping it to keep from falling out of my chair at the sight. I fished for a napkin to mop up the mess through my tearing eyes.
Barney cackled alongside my brother, pressing his mouth to the crook of his elbow to make sure he didn’t suffer a similar fate.
“Suffice to say,” Briar continued, smirking, “it was the last time a peddler tried to sell me ‘witches’ brew.’ ”
Kane raised his mug to cover the grin tugging at his dimpled cheek. His shoulders were relaxed. His eyes crinkling.
We’d needed this. All of us. The Quartz of Rose had been a losson every front. Failing to secure Ethera’s army, Mari’s setback, and of course, Aleksander…
I’d asked Kane this morning, curled in his arms, what he thought of Aleksander and Ethera’s blood oath. If he had any knowledge what their agreement all those decades ago might mean for us if we were to somehow bear a child. Kane only told me he’d have his spies travel to Rose when this was all over and uncover what they could. I knew he thought it was useless now. He’d never allow us to have a child in a world his father still lived in. And once Lazarus was gone…
To stave off tears before breakfast I’d then asked how his generals were feeling about laying siege to Solaris without first hearing from Hart or Amelia—clearly they hadn’t been able to secure the blade.
Kane had said if Briar could fix Mari’s magic, maybe we’d wait another few days—four at the most—and try to portal to Hart’s enclave first and see if he had news. But it had been three weeks since we’d blown Lazarus’s lighte reserves. Surely he would be ready for war soon. Either way, we both knew time was running out.
I’d only wished Mari would have joined us tonight. Only wished she could have—
The mahogany doors peeled open and I turned in my seat, expecting another round of warm rum and fizzy ale. A shock of curled red hair filed in instead, bringing a fresh grin to my cheeks.
“You came.” I almost sang the words.
Mari only nodded, a little shyly, and walked past my side of the table to take the last empty seat next to Griffin.
I might have gasped when he peered up at her with those usually unfeeling pale green eyes and said, “Hello, Mari.” And then, swallowing, “You look very well.”
Her answering grin was faint, but warmed my heart all the same.
Since our return, I’d caught Griffin not once buttwicestrolling past the woodcutter’s cottage where Mari and her father lived. I was sure he’d made his way up to the library daily, hoping she’d found solace in between her favorite stacks. And now she was seated beside him—the commander practically glowed.
The jovial conversation and rich spirit continued to flow, and while Mari hadn’t laughed yet, I did catch a smirk working its way across her face as Dagan regaled us with a story about finding her hiding under his counter in the apothecary when she was six.
“I told the kids hunting for her that I’d transformed Mari into a newt.” Dagan’s eyes lit with the memory. “And if they didn’t bolt, they’d be next.”
Apparently Dagan had known for years that the entire keep thought he was a wizard and simply chose not to correct anyone. Everything I learned about the man made me love him more.
“I wish I’d been there,” Briar lilted. “I would have made good on such a promise.” Her eyes simmered on Mari’s warming cheeks. “Nobody harasses our little witch.”
“Well,” Mari said, her voice still a bit small. “About half the castle did. I could write you an essay on how too much free time in an army stronghold with no role models other than burly soldiers can turn little boys into monsters.”
