Page 30 of The Curse of Ophelia

“I’d hoped it was all in my head.” Akalain’s shoulders drooped. “I suppose it could be nerves for the Undertaking.”

“He has nothing to fear,” I encouraged. “He’s the strongest of us, born of two powerful warriors.”

She smiled appreciatively, leaning forward to squeeze my hand. “I suppose it is natural. Will you try to reach the root of it, though? Instill your fortitude in him.”

For her, for him, of course I would. I would do anything, and I told her as much.

I could have looked at the sash for hours, but a shuffle from above had me reluctantly packing it back into its shiny box. Akalain hid the gift and was returning to her settee when her son rounded the corner into the small sitting room.

When his eyes landed on me, his face broke into a grin, but something was wrong. The light did not fully reach his eyes—the forest green deeper than normal.

“Good morning,” he greeted us both, but his eyes never left my face. “I didn’t expect to find you two in here.”

“We were having tea,” his mother responded calmly, but worry flashed through her eyes at his subdued expression. “I’ll leave you to your day,” she excused herself.

“Thank you…for the tea.” I smiled at Akalain as she exited, the secret of his sash humming between us.

She cast me a glance heavy with a mother’s concern, and my throat tightened. I nodded slightly, confirming that I would always look out for him, and she blinked a brief thank you.

When she rounded the corner, I turned my attention to her son. “Hi, Augustus,” I breathed. Angels, every time I saw him my breath was taken away. This man, this warrior…this strong, beautiful being was mine.

I extended my hand, and he was near me in a moment, strong arms lifting me off the couch. He crushed me to his chest, as if he could not get close enough, and my arms wound around his neck.

“Hi,” he whispered, his breath fanning across my ear. “What were you and my mother discussing?”

“You,” I laughed, breathing in the honeysuckle and leather scent of him that was my home.

He only exhaled in response, pressing a long kiss to my temple. His arms were tight around me, and I had to arch my back to look up at him.

“Is everything all right?” I asked, bringing a hand to his cheek.

He leaned into the touch as he whispered, “With you, everything is perfect.” But I didn’t miss the dimming of his eyes as he shut them, savoring the warmth of my hand against his cheek.

*

I had hoped Augustus’s spirit would lift as we worked in the city, assisting with the clearing of debris around Palerman’s largest music hall, but he was quiet. Even as I recounted my favorite shows we’d seen performed over the years, he barely grunted in response.

The rift in my heart spread with each minute that passed. Akalain and I had not been misreading his behavior. His eyes never reached their full warmth, even with each of his charming smiles, and his hair hung limply around his face and neck. Every inch of him seemed duller.

Around midday, he perched on the edge of the Angel fountain in the center of town, and I folded myself into his side. In silence, we shared bits of bread and soft cheese, passing fruit back and forth between bites.

We were surrounded by the bustle of shopkeepers, patrons, and children, everyone working to fix what was left of our town since the war had ended over a month prior. Our people—though many were worse for wear following the war—waved to us as they passed, and we politely greeted each. But I kept one eye on Augustus’s sunken frame the entire time.

“Is something bothering you?” I finally asked, waving at a group of young warriors from across the square.

He raised a shoulder in response.

“Augustus,” I whispered, grabbing his face and turning it to me. My eyes traced every inch of bronzed skin, seeking any explanation for the unease I felt within him, the one snaking into my Bind and throughout my whole body, as if in warning. “What is it? And do not claim there is nothing weighing on your mind.”

“There truly is nothing. I’m only thinking about my journey in three days.” His eyes did flare in the slightest as he spoke, but it wasn’t his usual warmth. It felt forced, a vulnerability seeping into his gaze though he fought it.

“I can see in your eyes that you are not yourself, Augustus.” Something tugged on the Bind, confirming the off-kilter step of the other half of my soul. I flicked my eyes to the spot where the tattoo hid beneath my sleeve. “I can feel it. Please, whatever your burden may be, whatever trial you are working to decipher, share it with me.”

I could see his mind calculating, working through whatever harped on his conscience in that moment. He appeared torn, battling internally over…something.

He reached to where my palm cupped his cheek and removed it, grabbing both of my hands between his two calloused ones and pulling them to his chest. His green eyes locked on mine, and now I was the one being searched. “I love you, Phel. I love how deeply you wish to protect me and carry any weight on my soul.” He pressed his lips to my forehead for a long moment, every ounce of adoration forced into that singular touch burning through me.

He pulled back, speaking so closely to my face that I felt his breath against my lips, “There is truly nothing I need to share at this moment. I promise you, if there is, I will tell you.”

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