Page 26 of A Balm of Healing
“Not if those winged fae are up against Forest Fae. Just wait until springtime. I will win against you fair and square.”
Heated stares passed between the other two, both competitive and passionate, and Emeric wasn’t sure if they were about to trade blows ortrade blows. There was never any telling with them.
He gripped Gweneth around the arm. “Let’s go before one of them implodes. Always bickering, the two of them.”
“Come now, Pops.” Bastien’s grin widened as he stole him away from Gweneth and led him into the entry room. “Let’s see how well those legs work.”
“Go easy on me,” he warned. “It will be a while yet until I’m at full strength.”
But instead of testing the resilience of his legs, his son turned on him and lowered his voice, his silver-blue eyes sparking with curiosity. “When did all of this happen? How did you meet her? What did she do to heal your legs? I want to know everything.”
For years, Bastien had been his support, and he suspected letting go of that role wasn’t easy.
He glanced toward the kitchen to find Gweneth and Seraphina in a hushed conversation of their own. “She broke every warped bone in my legs and healed them properly. And…” The heat of pride flared in his chest as he commanded the snowbalms outside his home, and small vines slithered through the cracks in the window, blossoming their white blooms before their eyes.
“You got your magic back,” Bastien gasped.
He nodded. “I accepted the application of a live-in nurse and ended up with a fiancée.” He paused to bite his lip. “She’s wonderful. If you just get to know her—”
“I already love her because you do.” Bastien embraced him, causing a flood of emotion to wash through him. “I’m so happy for you, Pa.” He held him at arm’s length. “Truly.”
“Your blessing means everything to me.” He cleared his throat. “I know she’s not your mother, but…”
Bastien squeezed his shoulder. “There’s always room for another mother. Seraphina has three fathers after all.” His son chuckled and stretched his arms over his head. “You deserve to be happy.” His eyes snapped open. “Oh!”
Digging into the satchel at his waist, Bastien pulled out a small glass vial and placed it into Emeric’s hand.
Emotion clogged his throat, and he swallowed several times as he attempted to keep it at bay. Within the small vial lay a single seed the size of his fingernail. He’d recognize it anywhere, as it was the very foundation of the tree he’d carved out for himself and Bastien to live in many years ago.
“I know you swore to never set foot in Attleglade again,” Bastien said, scratching his chin. “So, I went for you. A few pinecones survived the fire at our old place, and I extracted one of the living seeds.” He chuckled and ran a hand over the back of his neck. “It looks like you might not have to hire someone else to grow it for you after all.”
“Bas…” Emeric croaked before pulling him into another embrace. “Thank you for this thoughtful gift.”
Bastien waved away his thanks, running a hand over his neck again like he did when he was flustered and didn’t know what to say. He backed out of the room and climbed the stairs with Seraphina, likely finding a vacant room to sleep in later that night.
Moments later, Gweneth joined his side and elbowed him in the ribs. “You never mentioned Bastien is charming.”
“Oh, his charm fades away fast, I assure you. Give him ten minutes, tops, before he’ll do something to question your entire judgment about his character.”
Gweneth laughed and squeezed his arm. “I highly doubt it’s as bad as you say. Seraphina seems completely enamored with him.”
“Ten minutes,” he emphasized, smiling at the thought of his son despite everything. “And a fair warning, he will talk your ear off if you let him. That boy loves the sound of his own voice.”
Another laugh as they headed back toward the kitchen. Not to resume their earlier activity, unfortunately, but he imagined their new guests might enjoy a cup of warm tea.
Just as he placed a teapot on the stove to boil, Bastien called for the two of them. Except…his voice sounded as if it came from outside.
They each pulled on a pair of shoes and shrugged their coats on before exiting the house. A light snowfall cascaded from the white skies, each snowflake dancing with graceful leaps and twirls. He’d always loved the quiet stillness winter brought each year. Despite the cold, he often found a cozy place to enjoy the scenery while sipping on a hot cup of tea.
“You can see the entire city from up here!” Bastien shouted from above him, bringing his attention to his lithe form standing confidently on the edge of the roof. He pointed in the distance. “I think I even spot Nyana’s place.”
Gweneth inhaled sharply and clutched onto his wrist. “He’s on the roof!”
“Don’t worry,” Emeric reassured. “The trees in Attleglade are much higher.”
But his words did nothing to erase the distress in her eyes. Surely, she’d seen plenty of fall injuries in her healing career. Possibly even a few fall deaths as well.
“Whoa!” Bastien cried out as he slipped on a patch of ice on one of the shingles. Gweneth’s scream drowned in his ears as Bastien fell the distance from the roof to the ground. Only to roll into the fall and smoothly onto his feet. An enormous grin stretched across his face as he pointed to her. “Gotcha! You fell hard for that one.”
