Page 90 of A Storm of Fire and Ash
It felt like days, but it was only hours since she saw what I really was—since I’d revealed magic in a moment I couldn’t take back. Since I’d saved her from something no one else had stepped in to stop. She used to hate me. Now—she feared me. Or at least that’s what I felt.
My stomach twisted. What if she had told someone? But then, her gaze softened. She gave me a small smile. Tentative. Careful. But not cruel.
I blinked, surprised. “Morning,” I offered quietly.
“Morning, Elara,” she said, voice even.
Before I could say more, Yara turned and beamed. “I was just saying how I’m going to help you get ready tonight!”
I blinked. “Get ready for what?”
Kalista stepped forward before Yara could answer, her tone calm but edged with excitement. “The First Snow Festival.”
I raised a brow. “What’s that?”
Kalista’s arms dropped to her sides as she spoke. “I’m surprised the prince didn’t tell you.” I didn’t say anything. Kalista continued, “It’s a ball. Happens every year on the day the first snow falls. Always the same day. The snow never misses.” She paused, then added, “It’s said to be the goddessNiama’sblessing. Her way of reminding us that the land will sleep, and life will return again.”
I glanced toward the window, where the sky was cloudy and dark gray. A celebration for something I still didn’t quite understand.
“It sounds…” I hesitated. “Beautiful.”
Yara threw an arm around my shoulders. “You’re going to look like a goddess yourself, just wait.”
I smiled, though part of me still watched Kalista from the corner of my eye.
The scent of cinnamon and butter clung to my hands as I dusted flour over the dough Sivka handed me. We worked side by side in silence, her movements swift and exact, mine slower, clumsier, but improving. She didn’t say much, but her quiet nods of approval felt like praise. There was peace in the repetition—rolling, folding, brushing with cream. I lost track of time. My thoughts wandered only briefly, but they always tried to find him, to circle back to the way his eyes had lingered on mine last night. I pushed them away.
“Not bad,” Sivka finally muttered, looking down at the tray I’d filled.
I looked up, surprised. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She gave a rare smile. “You should.”
The door creaked open, letting in a rush of cold air—and Fintan. He looked handsome. His sapphire coat buttoned perfectly, not a speck of dust on him. His whisky eyes scanned the room until they landed on me.
“Elara,” he said, softly. “Can we talk?”
Ugh… that’s all he ever wants to do is talk, but I don’t think I have the answers he is looking for. My stomach twisted a little, but I nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
I wiped my hands on a cloth, offered a quick thanks to Sivka, then followed him through the side door and intothe crisp air outside. Snow hadn’t fallen yet, but the sky held that heavy stillness—the kind that whispered it was coming.
Fintan stopped beneath the covered walkway, back to the iron wall, his hands tucked behind him. I waited. He looked like he was trying to decide what to say.
“I can’t function without you,” he said finally. “I’ve tried. Gods, I’ve tried, Elara. But everything feels off. And tonight… I still want you there. At my side. I can’t take being away from you any longer.”
His words were sweet, heartfelt even, but they didn’t reach me the way they used to. That spark—the one that once made my pulse stutter every time he smiled—it was gone.
“I care for you,” I said softly. “I really do. You mean so much to me, Fintan. I loved you.”
He flinched. “Loved.”
I hated the way his face fell, how raw the hurt was in his eyes. I felt his pain. His heartbreak. But I couldn’t lie to him. Not anymore.
I reached out and grabbed his hand. “I need to fix myself first,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not whole—not yet. If I gave you what I have right now… it wouldn’t be fair,” I paused. “And it wouldn’t be real. You deserve the world, Fintan, and I can’t give it to you. You need to move on from me.”
He looked down, breathing slowly, then stepped forward and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Save a dance for me tonight?”
I gave him a soft smile, trying to keep the sting from showing. “Of course, Golden Boy.”
