Page 54 of A Conduit of Light
Revichwas in the bare clearingBaronHeimlenand she had been training on for weeks—bare except for the cherry tree that now grew there, its fruit still ripe and red with birds of the forest swooping down for a visit.
“Thisyour work?”Heraised one eyebrow and nodded toward the tree as she came closer.Hewas sitting on a large rock covered in moss, one boot up on the stone and one bracing on the dirt floor.Heheld a carving knife in his hands, and he was working away at a large piece of wood, shavings falling to the ground around his feet.
Shenodded and smiled, bending down to meet his lips in a kiss. “Ididn’t know you…whittled?”
“Youstill have lots of things to learn about me,Ash.”Hewinked and there it was—that charming smile upon his face and she sighed inwardly, accepting her lack of control around it.
“Iwanted to show you something.Beforewe start.”Shepulled the paper out of her pocket and handed it to him, her heart hammering.
“What’sthis?”Heopened the parchment and grinned. “Beloved?That’swhat it means, doesn’t it?Don’tlook so surprised.I’vespent my fair share of time in theMagicalLanguageHall.”Hewinked at her again and placed his carving and knife on the side of the rock.
“It’s…I…Iwant it to be my new name.”Cheeksflushed, she felt the need to explain. “Iwas reading this book and it was talking about how love cannot be coerced with magic, andIjust thought of you and the girls and my time here, lovingFelgren, lovingViridis.Ilooked over the page and this word just…”
“Fit,” he finished, a dazzling grin lighting his face.Henodded, looking down at the paper. “Itreally does.It’sbeautiful.Perfect.”
Hestood and leaned in for a kiss, taking her face in his hands as she held onto his arms, bliss overtaking all of her senses.
Itwas real.
Thelove they shared, the happiness, the sense of purpose.Allof it was real and she was determined to never forget that moment,Revich’slips on hers, pulling her closer in stolen moments before their duties must begin.
Thesun shone down in the forest upon the two lovers, their future bright ahead of them, while the first signs of summer whispered on the warm breath of the wind.
* * *
Itwasseveral days later that she lay inRevich’sbed, the fire the only source of light in the room as the flames licked over fresh fir tree wood, the scent warm and welcoming in the air.
Herbody flushed hot, sweat rolling down her chest as she tried to catch her breath.Thewaves of her release still pulsed through her body as he kissed his way up her belly, stopping at the base of her breast, as he always did, his lips light and teasing.
Shegroaned in satisfaction, pulling his head up to hers, kissing his face repeatedly before she found his mouth and tasted the heady sweetness on his tongue.
“Ihave something for you,” he whispered on her lips, the sound muffled by her determination to continue their current task.
Shelaughed against his mouth, whispering back, “Why,BaronRevich, and hereIwas thinking you’d done enough.”
Hereturned her laugh, snickering on her mouth between kisses.Then, finally leaving her lips, he got out of the bed and walked to the shelves of books against the wall.
Sheadmired the view, watching the muscles of his legs tighten with each step he took, eager for him to return.
Whenhe did, he held the rhyzolm in one hand and an object in the other, wrapped in green cloth.
“What’sthis?” she asked, sitting up, curiosity alight in her eyes.
“Iwant you to keep this,” he said, taking her hand and placing the green stone in her palm, kissing the tips of her fingers before closing them around it.
Shebeamed at him, knowing what it meant.Understandingthat he was giving her a piece of himself that he cherished.Thatstone was connected to them both, and he trusted her with the keeping of it.
“I’llhold it close forever.Ipromise.”Sheheld the stone to her heart, her overwhelming sense of love and joy pouring into it.Sheclosed her eyes, thanking the stone for bringing her here, to this very moment where she was incandescently loved by its owner.
“Andwhen you’re not holding it,Imade you something.Somethingto keep it in—for safe keeping.”Hehanded her the wrapped object.
Sheset the stone on the bed beside them and unwrapped her treasure.Itwas a wooden box, polished and shining in the low light.Shefelt the clasp at the back and wound it before opening the lid.Musicmet their ears, light and joyful as the tines of the mechanism flicked over the protrusions of a revolving cylinder.
Shegasped and looked up at him, the sound lilting through the room. “It’sbeautiful.Youmade this?Thisis what you’ve been secretly whittling away at this week?”
“Yes.Andthe song is for you as well.I’msure you know it—I’veheard you humming it before.It’sTheSunandTheMoon.Pompeiimade the mechanism inside.Heis a gifted artist and learned the skill in theSpire.”Heswept hair back from her face as she stared down at the box, her mouth still open in surprise. “Youlove it?”
“Ido.It’sabsolutely perfect.”
